Riley Strain’s cause of death has been confirmed by an autopsy report obtained by TMZ.
According to the report, the 22-year-old college student died from drowning and alcohol poisoning. His death was ruled an accident.
This news comes three months after Strain’s mother shared her son’s final text message.
Strain, a senior at the University of Missouri, went missing in early March during a trip to downtown Nashville with his fraternity brothers.
The night he disappeared, Strain was asked to leave Luke’s 32 Bridge Food + Drink. Although his friends didn’t see him again after he left the bar, surveillance cameras, including a police officer’s body camera, spotted him several times before he vanished.
One of Strain’s friends called the police the next day to report him missing. Authorities started searching for him, but it wasn’t until March 22, two weeks after Strain was last seen, that they received a report of a body in the Cumberland River.
Officials confirmed the body was Riley Strain. He was found eight miles from where he was last seen.
#BREAKING: Riley Strain Press Conference:
-Around 7:28am, worker discovered body
-When removing an object from river, the body surfaced
-Fire Department retrieved body
-Medical Examiner reviewed body, confirmed to be Riley Strain
-Family has been contacted
-No signs of foul play… pic.twitter.com/ZeBrwJeDou— Alex Caprariello (@alcaprari23) March 22, 2024
The Tennessee Chief Medical Examiner’s report showed that Riley Strain had Delta 9 (a component of marijuana) in his system and his blood alcohol level was .228.
The autopsy also noted that there were no significant signs of injury.
When I first heard about Riley Strain, I hoped so much that he would be found alive. It’s so tragic that his life ended this way. Every day, I continue to pray for his family.
MY DAUGHTER TOLD ME I’M MAKING A FOOL OF MYSELF AFTER I SENT HER A PHOTO OF ME IN A WEDDING SUIT
The crisp white of the wedding suit stared back at him from the full-length mirror, a stark contrast to the weathered lines etched on his face. Arnold, at 75, felt a flutter of nervous excitement, a sensation he hadn’t experienced in decades. He smoothed down the lapels, a wide grin spreading across his face. Helen, his Helen, had said yes.
He couldn’t wait to share the news with his daughter, Emily. He snapped a quick photo, a proud, beaming smile plastered across his face, and sent it to her with a simple message: “Guess who’s getting married!”
He waited, his heart pounding with anticipation. The phone buzzed, and he eagerly opened the message. But the words that appeared on the screen were like a slap in the face.
“Dad, you’re making a fool of yourself. You’re too old to play dress-up and pretend you’re a groom. At your age, it’s pathetic. And what ‘LOVE’ could you possibly have at 75?!”
The smile vanished from his face, replaced by a deep, aching sadness. He felt a wave of shame wash over him, a feeling he hadn’t experienced since he was a young boy. Had he really become a pathetic old man, clinging to a childish dream?
He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, the wedding suit suddenly feeling like a heavy, suffocating weight. He remembered the first time he had met Helen, her warm smile, her gentle touch. They had met in the nursing home, two lonely souls finding solace in each other’s company.
Helen had brought a spark back into his life, a warmth he thought he had lost forever. She had listened to his stories, shared her own, and made him feel seen, truly seen, for the first time in years. He had fallen in love, a deep, abiding love that defied age and circumstance.
He looked at the photo of himself, the beaming smile now a ghostly reminder of his shattered joy. Was he really being ridiculous? Was he making a fool of himself?
He thought of Helen, her eyes filled with love and laughter, her hand warm in his. He thought of the joy they shared, the quiet moments of companionship, the feeling of being truly alive again.
He picked up the phone, his fingers trembling, and dialed Emily’s number.
“Emily,” he said, his voice quiet but firm, “I understand you’re concerned. But Helen makes me happy. She makes me feel alive again. And I’m not going to apologize for finding love at this stage of my life.”
“Dad, you don’t understand,” Emily pleaded. “People will talk. They’ll laugh at you.”
“Let them,” Arnold replied, his voice gaining strength. “I’m not living my life for them. I’m living it for myself, for Helen.”
“But Dad—”
“No, Emily,” Arnold interrupted. “This is my decision. I’m going to marry Helen. And I hope, one day, you’ll understand.”
He hung up the phone, a sense of resolve settling over him. He wouldn’t let anyone, not even his own daughter, steal his happiness.
He walked to the mirror, his gaze meeting his own. He looked at the lines on his face, the silver in his hair, and he saw not a pathetic old man, but a man who had found love, a man who had the courage to embrace it.
He smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile. He would marry Helen. They would build a life together, filled with love and laughter, defying the expectations of others, proving that love, like life, has no age limit.
The wedding was small, intimate, filled with the warmth of genuine affection. Helen, radiant in her simple white dress, stood beside him, her hand clasped in his. They exchanged vows, their voices filled with love and promise.
As they walked down the aisle, hand in hand, Arnold felt a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in years. He had chosen love, chosen happiness, and he had chosen himself. And that, he knew, was the greatest gift of all.
Leave a Reply