Elizabeth Feaster Obituary, Death: 6-Year-Old Girl Fatally Shot by Father Billy Feaster in Backyard Murder-Suicide During Family Visit in Bethany, Oklahoma; Police Confirm Tragedy Occurred Near NW 42nd Street and Rockwell as Family Members Heard Gunshots from Inside the Home

On a quiet Sunday morning in Bethany, Oklahoma, the unthinkable happened. In a moment that shattered the peace of a family home and echoed a father’s devastating final act, 6-year-old Elizabeth Feaster was shot and killed by her own father, 29-year-old Billy Feaster, during what should have been a routine parental visit. Police have confirmed that the man then turned the gun on himself, taking his own life in the backyard of a residence near Northwest 42nd Street and Rockwell. Inside the home, other family members—unsuspecting, unaware of the horror about to unfold—heard the fatal gunshots, only to discover a scene that no family should ever have to witness.

Authorities responded swiftly to the murder-suicide, but there was nothing they could do to save either the child or her father. The crime, which has sent shockwaves through the community, is being investigated as a domestic murder-suicide—one of the most harrowing and emotionally devastating forms of gun violence in American life. It has left an indelible mark not only on the family that survives them but also on a town now forced to reckon with the fragility of childhood, the unpredictability of parental breakdown, and the unbearable weight of loss.

Police have confirmed the identities of the deceased: Billy Feaster, 29, and his daughter Elizabeth Feaster, just 6 years old. The circumstances of the visitation have not yet been fully disclosed—whether the father had court-ordered visitation rights, or if the arrangement was informal—but what is clear is that the child was with her father in the backyard of a home that belonged to or was shared by other relatives. At some point during that visit, he used a firearm to kill his daughter and then immediately ended his own life.

The sound of gunfire—piercing, sudden—drew other family members into a nightmare. Authorities say that multiple relatives were inside the home at the time, completely unaware of the violence taking place just feet away. When they rushed out to the backyard, they discovered both bodies. The emotional trauma inflicted in that moment is difficult to quantify, yet its effects will undoubtedly ripple for years. These witnesses, many likely to be Elizabeth’s relatives, are now left to live with not only the loss but the unimaginable memory of its aftermath.

The motive behind Billy Feaster’s actions remains unclear, and police have not released additional context about prior history or potential warning signs. In many murder-suicide cases, especially those involving parents and children, signs of emotional instability, unresolved custody battles, or untreated mental health issues may lie just beneath the surface. Investigators are expected to review any previous family court filings, medical or psychological records, and statements from those close to the family to begin piecing together what led to such a horrifying act of irreversible violence.

Elizabeth Feaster was just six years old—a child still in the early stages of forming friendships, going to school, laughing freely, and discovering the world around her. Her life was marked not by conflict but by innocence, and now, tragically, her name joins a growing list of child victims in murder-suicide incidents across the country. The senselessness of her death—a result of her father’s fatal decision—underscores a devastating reality: that the most dangerous moments can come not from strangers, but from within the family unit itself.

The Bethany Police Department has described the investigation as ongoing, but the central facts are no longer in dispute. The loss is total. The damage, permanent. And the questions—of why, of how it came to this, and whether it could have been prevented—linger with painful intensity.

In cases like this, the legal and investigative process is often only the beginning of the healing journey for those left behind. Surviving family members must now navigate a maze of grief, trauma, and potentially even public scrutiny. They must also manage the logistical and emotional burden of planning a funeral for a child—one whose life should have been defined by milestones, not mourning.

It is not only the immediate family who feels the weight of such a loss. The broader community—classmates, teachers, neighbors, friends—must also grapple with the sudden void left by Elizabeth’s death. Schools may bring in counselors. Churches may offer vigils. Local leaders may issue statements. But no gesture, however heartfelt, can fully make sense of such a senseless act.

And yet, this tragedy demands reflection—on multiple levels. It demands an inquiry into the systems that govern family safety: How can a man with the capacity to commit such an act have had access to a child? Were there warning signs that went unheeded? Was this a culmination of private struggles that had no outlet for help?

These are not just theoretical concerns. In the United States, murder-suicides involving parents and children are a deeply troubling, underreported crisis. According to data compiled by various advocacy groups and research institutions, hundreds of children are killed each year in acts of familial murder-suicide. Many of these cases involve fathers taking the lives of their children and themselves amid custody disputes, mental health crises, or economic strain. And yet, despite the recurrence, there remains a persistent lack of early intervention strategies, public awareness campaigns, or consistent legal safeguards that might prevent future incidents.

In Bethany, the murder-suicide involving Elizabeth and Billy Feaster is more than a local crime. It is a stark emblem of this broader national issue—where domestic violence, emotional instability, and firearm access intersect with tragic consequences. Law enforcement and child welfare advocates often emphasize the importance of early warning systems, protective court orders, and accessible mental health support as critical tools in identifying at-risk family dynamics before they escalate into irreversible loss.

In the meantime, Elizabeth’s memory must be preserved. She was not just a victim; she was a daughter, a niece, perhaps a sister—a child who likely had favorite songs, bedtime stories, a backpack for school, and a future full of possibility. Her story, though brutally abbreviated, deserves to be told not through the lens of her death, but through the vibrancy of her life, however short it was.

Local authorities have not yet shared details about funeral arrangements, but one can expect that the community will rally to honor Elizabeth’s life. In these moments of grief, families often seek solace in collective remembrance—through candlelight vigils, balloon releases, or memorial funds. If one is established, it could offer a way for the community to contribute not only financially, but emotionally, to a healing process that will take years.

As police continue their review of what led to the tragic events in that backyard, the town of Bethany is left with the sorrowful task of holding space for both heartbreak and resilience. No words can undo what happened. But perhaps in naming it, sharing it, and grieving it publicly, a path can emerge to ensure that Elizabeth Feaster’s name is not forgotten—and that no other child must suffer a similar fate at the hands of someone meant to protect them.