We have tragic news out of Troup County, where a body was found in **West Point Lake**. He just vanished—nowhere to be seen.
“I’ve got a weird‑shaped object right here,” one of the searchers said over the radio. “Yeah, I’m right on top of whatever it is. It looks like a rock… Uh, I got something. Oh. Okay. We just found him.”
“We’ve confirmed it’s definitely a body. We don’t know if it’s him or not, but we know we just found a body.”
—
You might call them scuba divers, but for **Jeremy Sides** and **Adam Brown**, it started as something much simpler. Their new hobby—cleaning up waterways—soon evolved into solving mysteries.
They travel the country searching for closure in cold cases. The public service they provide is immense. The gift of closure to grieving families is absolutely **priceless**.
—
On this day, I traveled to **LaGrange, Georgia**, to search for the missing‑person case of **Fernando Ortiz**, a 34‑year‑old man who went missing on **Christmas** around 2 p.m.
This is **Liberty Hill Park**, where I’m standing now. Fernando’s truck was found here, right by the boat ramp.
It was a strange scene: the truck was running, the door open, and his dog still inside. Fernando was gone. No trace.
So we came here to try to help the family, scan the waterways, run sonar, and—hopefully—bring some answers and a little peace.
—
We started getting the Nissan and our boat set up. Several other search teams were already on scene, some preparing to walk the surrounding woods while I focused on the water.
Jeremy was on his way. Meanwhile, I walked down toward the boat ramp to get a better look at where his truck had been found.
They mentioned a stump in the area where the dive team had been concentrating. I decided to scan it myself.
The water level was low, which, for our purposes, was a good thing.
Down at the boat ramp, the drop was obvious. The water was **super low**.
I got the boat in the water and fired up the sonar.
We zoomed the unit in to about 50 feet, starting at 55, then headed straight toward a buoy. We were looking for **anything strange**, anything that stood out from the usual mess—logs, rocks, stumps.
There was a fair amount of debris, but not a ton. A few man‑made objects straight off the ramp, but nothing clearly obvious yet.
—
It sounded like they’d been focusing on this general area because this is where Fernando liked to fish.
You can see a pipeline on the sonar that runs out from shore, and a big old tire lying on the bottom in about six feet of water.
We decided to scan this whole inlet thoroughly. It was the most logical starting point.
Just then, Jeremy arrived.
—
“So what’s the word, buddy?” he asked.
“We’ve got people searching the woods and another search team here,” I replied. “His truck was parked pretty much right here—running. They said the door was open when they found it. The dog was sitting in the truck. I think it’s that same truck up there now. He’s just… gone.”
“Have you scanned any yet?” Jeremy asked.
“I just started, but I’ve got to change the battery,” I told him.
—
“Right off the bat,” Jeremy said, “I’m thinking he gets out… Is there a boat dock?”
“There’s a ramp, but the water’s so low. The pier’s basically on dry ground—not much of it in the water.”
He asked if Fernando could have walked out on the pier and jumped, but with the current water level, the depth was still around 10 feet in some spots. We didn’t know exactly what the level had been when he disappeared.
We also knew he’d reportedly been wearing only a T‑shirt and work boots.
—
We spoke briefly with a woman involved in the search—likely family.
“We specialize in water searches,” Jeremy explained. “I’ll put the boat in and scan sonar. He’s going to do the same with his RC boat. We’ll start at the ramp and work the whole area. If we see anything, we’ll mark it and figure out what it is.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
We agreed: I’d run sonar from the bigger boat while Jeremy used his smaller RC boat to cover the shallower edges.
—
Out on the water, we began a grid pattern. I eased along the bank at about 10 feet of depth.
One advantage here: unlike some lakes that drop to 50 feet, this area was relatively shallow—around 10–15 feet in the middle.
There weren’t a lot of standing trees under the surface, which helped. But there **were** a fair number of sticks and scattered debris.
I noticed a large fallen tree the dive team had apparently already checked. At around 15 feet, it seemed to mark the drop‑off.
—
“See anything yet?” Jeremy called.
“Logs and tires,” I answered. “I see that big log out that way—probably what the dive team was focused on.”
Not far from that area, I spotted something else: a **rock with a rope tied around it**.
Not to be grim, but in a recent case, a man had weighed himself down with a backpack. A rock with a rope could be a fisherman’s makeshift anchor—or something more concerning.
I took my time scanning carefully around this point, where Fernando was known to fish.
—
I continued walking along the bank and scanning the outer edge of the point. Nothing really jumped out at first—just a couple of small items—until I reached the area opposite the boat ramp.
That’s when I noticed something strange on the screen.
“All right, I’ve got a weird‑shaped object right here,” I said. “Might just be a rock. For a second, though, it looked really odd.”
I tried switching to a live‑scan view. It was only in about five feet of water. The lake level might have dropped a little since Fernando went missing.
—
We were close to the boat ramp—practically right behind me.
“I don’t know if it’s the right dimensions,” I muttered, “but it’s got a weird shape. On some shots, it almost looks… human‑like. On others, it just looks like a rock.”
When you’re doing this, you look for *anything* that doesn’t match the usual patterns of trees and rocks. On the live‑scan, one target looked like a rock, but on side‑scan the shape seemed different.
“Could be nothing,” I told Jeremy, “but it’s the first weird thing I’ve seen.”
—
Jeremy brought the boat over to help scan the area.
“The boat ramp and parking lot are right here,” I explained. “Somewhere around this spot.”
“I’m going right over it,” he said. “I’m right on top of whatever it is.”
Some sonar shots made it look like a rock. Others hinted at legs. The live scan looked more like a round object.
“It’s only four to seven feet deep,” Jeremy noted. “You might be able to just look down.”
—
We eased over the target.
“Look to your left, right behind that,” I said, guiding him. “Just look down. It’s so shallow.”
“It’s pretty muddy,” Jeremy answered. “I can’t see much… Wait. There’s something right there.”
“Does it look like a rock?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he replied slowly. “It’s blowing **bubbles**, though.”
“Are you serious?” I said. “Come get me real quick.”
—
I had seen the shape briefly before the water clouded up. Now, with the bubbles, it felt different.
“It’s just the first weird thing that doesn’t look right,” I said as he pulled closer.
We repositioned and tried again, but every time we got near, the mud kicked up. On the sonar, it still mostly resembled a rock.
“I’m about to be on it, I think,” Jeremy said. “Yeah, I’m right on top of whatever it is.”
And then everything changed.
—
“Uh, I got something,” Jeremy suddenly called out. “Okay. Put it down. Put it down. Put it down.”
He had used a pole or tool to gently probe the object—and it had moved in a way no rock would.
“We found him,” he said quietly.
We quickly marked the location with a bucket so we’d know exactly where the body was: about 15 feet out from the bucket, in roughly five to seven feet of water.
“That looked like a rock,” I said, stunned. “I mean, that’s okay. Good job. That’s two.”
—
We knew what had to happen next.
“I don’t know if law enforcement is here already,” I said. “The family and everybody’s right up there.”
We agreed to walk up calmly and speak gently. After that, we would call the police.
“If there is a body,” Jeremy said, “I’m supposed to call…”
“Yeah, definitely call,” I replied. “We’ve confirmed it’s a body. We don’t know if it’s him, but we know we just found a body.”
—
On the phone, we described what we’d seen.
“It looked green,” Jeremy said, referring to clothing. “Like a greenish hoodie. Maybe some white lettering. I only saw it for a second.”
The dispatcher told us they would notify the detective and the duty sergeant. The dive team would be called out.
“If they’ve got a dive team, we’re happy to help,” I added. “It’s only four or five feet of water. We can assist with our boat if needed.”
—
We showed a responding officer the sonar image we’d first captured.
“So, if you see our boat down there on the right side,” I explained, “this is the image we got on sonar.”
“It’s about 10–15 feet out, in five to seven feet of water. We used a pole to probe the spot and brought the body up just a little—head level—for a second, then gently lowered him back. We didn’t move him from the location.”
“You actually saw the head?” the officer asked.
“Yes,” we said. “We’ll mark the exact spot for the dive team.”
—
Back on the water, we used GPS and visual markers to pinpoint the location.
“It’s right there,” I said. “You’re literally on top of him.”
“Is that about where he is?” the diver asked.
“I’m right on top of him,” I confirmed. “It’s about five feet to the top of him—maybe seven or eight feet total depth.”
Now it was in the hands of law enforcement and recovery teams. Our part—finding him—was done.
—
A truck left running. A door open. A loyal dog waiting in the seat. A favorite fishing spot.
And in the shallow, muddy water just off the ramp, something that looked like a rock on sonar—but wasn’t.
What started as a search for “anything strange” on the screen ended with the recovery of a man a family had desperately hoped to find.
Because sometimes closure doesn’t come from what you can see on the surface. It comes from looking just a little bit deeper.
