In a raw and emotionally charged testimony before a U.S. House Judiciary subcommittee hearing in Charlotte, North Carolina, on September 29, 2025, Stephen Federico unleashed a torrent of grief and fury that has since gone viral. Holding a framed photo of his 22-year-old daughter, Logan Haley Federico, he recounted the horrific details of her murder during a home invasion in Columbia, South Carolina, on May 3, 2025. “She was dragged out of bed naked, forced on her knees with her hands over her head… BANG! Dead. Gone!” Federico exclaimed, his voice breaking as he described how Logan, a petite 5-foot-3, 115-pound aspiring teacher, begged for her life before being executed with a stolen shotgun.

The suspected killer, 30-year-old Alexander Devante Dickey, was no stranger to the criminal justice system. With a staggering record of 39 arrests—including 25 felonies—spanning over a decade, Dickey should have been incarcerated for potentially more than 140 years, according to Federico’s calculations. Yet, due to a series of systemic failures, lenient plea deals, and incomplete criminal records, he walked free to commit what Federico calls an “execution” rather than a random act of violence. “Why? Because Alexander Devante Dickey—who was arrested 39 goddamn times, 25 felonies—was on the street,” Federico thundered.

Federico’s testimony, punctuated by the now-iconic line, “What y’all did, you woke up a beast and you pissed off the wrong daddy,” has ignited a national conversation about “soft-on-crime” policies that allow repeat offenders to evade meaningful consequences. He vowed, “I will fight until my last breath for my daughter… You’ll be sick and tired of my face and my voice until this gets fixed.” This article explores Federico’s personal tragedy, the failures that enabled it, and his relentless crusade for reform.

The Tragic Night of May 3, 2025

Logan Federico, a vibrant 22-year-old from Waxhaw, North Carolina, was full of promise. Just two weeks before her death, she had achieved her dream of becoming a teacher, a path she pursued with passion at a local college. On that fateful night, she was visiting friends in the Old Shandon neighborhood near the University of South Carolina in Columbia, staying overnight at a home just northeast of the campus. What should have been a carefree evening turned into a nightmare when Alexander Dickey, on a burglary spree, broke into the residence.

According to police reports and Federico’s testimony, Dickey entered multiple homes that night, stealing credit and debit cards before targeting the house where Logan was sleeping. He dragged Logan from her bed, forced her to her knees, and shot her in the chest with a stolen 12-gauge shotgun. After the murder, Dickey used her stolen cards for a shopping spree at a nearby store, a detail that police confirmed through surveillance video. “When they saw his face on the video, they didn’t have to do a check. He was arrested so many times they knew who he was,” Federico later told reporters.

The brutality of the crime shocked the community. Logan, described by her father as a “hero” in her final moments, had no chance against the intruder. Federico received the devastating call while driving, describing it as “a kick in the stomach.” The loss of his daughter, one of three, transformed a grieving father into an advocate, determined to ensure her story sparks change.

Alexander Dickey’s Criminal History: A Revolving Door of Justice

Alexander Devante Dickey’s rap sheet reads like a chronicle of unchecked criminality. Since 2013, the 30-year-old had amassed nearly 40 charges, including strong-armed robbery, grand larceny, drug possession, first-degree burglary, and multiple counts of violence. Of these, 25 were felonies, offenses that carried severe penalties—first-degree burglary alone mandates a minimum 15-year sentence in South Carolina.

Despite this, Dickey spent only about 600 days—roughly 20 months—in prison over a decade, averaging 2.65 crimes per year since age 15. Many charges were dismissed or reduced through plea deals, such as a 2023 case where he pleaded guilty to a lesser charge as a “first-time offender” despite prior arrests for serious burglaries. A critical failure occurred in 2014 when fingerprints from a first-degree burglary arrest were not properly submitted to the State Law Enforcement Division (SLED), resulting in an incomplete rap sheet that misled prosecutors.

Federico lambasted this as the “main cog in this whole problem,” arguing that had Dickey’s full history been known, he would have been imprisoned, not free to escalate to murder. Following Logan’s death, Dickey faced charges including murder, two counts of first-degree burglary, possession of a weapon during a violent crime, grand larceny, and financial card theft. South Carolina Attorney General Alan Wilson has urged prosecutors to seek the death penalty, giving them until October 10, 2025, to decide, amid ongoing forensic delays. Federico hopes federal intervention from President Trump and Attorney General Pam Bondi will ensure capital punishment.

The Congressional Hearing: A Father’s Fury Unleashed

The hearing, focused on violent crime and repeat offenders, was prompted by another tragedy: the August 22, 2025, stabbing of 23-year-old Ukrainian refugee Iryna Zarutska on Charlotte’s LYNX Blue Line by Decarlos Brown Jr., who had 14 prior arrests and was on cashless bail. Federico’s testimony stood out for its visceral intensity. He corrected Democratic Rep. Deborah Ross (D-N.C.), who mistakenly identified Logan’s photo as Zarutska’s, snapping, “Her name’s Logan Federico, not Iryna. And you will not forget her, I promise you.”

Federico implored lawmakers: “You need to fight for the rest of our children, the rest of the innocents, and stop protecting the people that keep taking them from us! Please! You have the power.” He demanded accountability for those who released Dickey, stating, “Everyone responsible for keeping this man on the streets should be thrown in prison.” The hearing highlighted partisan divides, with Republicans like Reps. Nancy Mace, Pamela Evette, and Ralph Norman calling for the impeachment of Solicitor Byron Gipson over perceived leniency.

Systemic Failures and Broader Implications

Federico’s story exposes deep flaws in the U.S. criminal justice system, particularly in handling repeat offenders. Issues like missing fingerprints, plea bargaining for “first-time” treatment despite priors, and short sentences create a “revolving door” effect. Nationally, recidivism costs billions annually, with studies showing education programs can reduce reoffending by 30%, but prevention and swift justice are key. In North Carolina, “Iryna’s Law” aims to limit cashless bail and reinstate the death penalty, reflecting growing backlash against progressive reforms.

Critics argue soft-on-crime policies, including reduced sentences and bail reform, prioritize rehabilitation over public safety, enabling tragedies like Logan’s. Federico joins other families, like that of Zarutska, in highlighting how these policies fail victims. Even figures like President Trump have condemned similar cases, calling perpetrators “animals.”

Stephen Federico’s Crusade: From Grief to Advocacy

Once a private citizen, Stephen Federico has become a fierce advocate, vowing to haunt lawmakers until reforms are enacted. “I’m not going away. My daughter isn’t going away,” he declared on Fox News. His testimony, amplified on social media by accounts like @FoxNews and @EndWokeness, has garnered millions of views and support from conservatives.

Federico’s resolve stems from profound loss—Logan was his “hero,” and her spirit, he says, “can’t be killed.” He criticizes the solicitor’s office for poor communication, noting four months of silence post-arrest. Joined by other survivors, like Mia Alderman, whose granddaughter was also murdered, Federico demands personal accountability for justice officials.

Calls for Reform and the Path Forward

Federico’s plea echoes broader demands: stricter penalties, better record-keeping, and holding judges and DAs accountable. Proposals include mandatory minimums for felonies, fingerprint protocol reforms, and federal oversight in high-recidivism cases. While rehabilitation has merits, Federico argues it fails unrepentant offenders like Dickey.

Politicians from South Carolina Gov. Henry McMaster to Rep. Norman have pledged action, with calls to impeach soft prosecutors. As the case against Dickey progresses, with AG Wilson pushing for death, Federico’s voice ensures Logan’s memory drives change.

Conclusion

Stephen Federico’s transformation from grieving father to “beast” awakened by injustice embodies the human cost of failed policies. Logan’s murder—a preventable execution by a career criminal shielded by systemic leniency—demands reckoning. His unyielding fight, captured in viral testimony, pressures lawmakers to prioritize victims over offenders. As Federico promises, “Logan deserves to be heard,” her story may finally “fix” a broken system, saving future innocents. Until then, the beast he warns of will roar on.