Hello, caller. >> I'm about to pass out. >> Yes, ma'am. I'm taking a nap. >> There's something in the back of my head. Help me. >> Ready to move. >> Hey, man. What's your name? What's your name? What's your name? What's your name? >> Imagine surviving a gunshot wound to the head just long enough to tell a 911 dispatcher the person who pulled the trigger was your own son. >> And what's your first name? >> Joseph. >> Minutes later, officers find your spouse unresponsive outside the family home. By sunrise, that same son is surrounded by armed officers more than 70 miles away. One wrong move away from changing the ending of this case forever. >> Stop. >> The male victim, the father, was a hard worker who tried to keep his son on [music] the straight and narrow. Now, his son is behind bars as his accused killer. >> This is a story about a typical American family living in a modest home on an ordinary street in small-town Florida. It's about the kinds of everyday struggles that countless [music] parents and their adult children experience behind closed doors. Differences over responsibility, independence, [music] and the hope that tomorrow will be better than today. But, it's also a story about how a series of incidents that once seemed unrelated would eventually be viewed in a very different light. To understand how investigators arrived at that conclusion, we have to begin long before that disturbing 911 call with the Voit family itself. Marvin Randall Voit was born and raised in Bartow, Florida, a small city about 35 miles east of Tampa, where news tends to travel fast. Marvin, better known as Randy, graduated from Bartow High School. Growing up, Randy developed a passion for skateboarding. Friends recall him spending countless hours on a board. It wasn't just a pastime, it was part of his identity, and he shared that with his son, Joseph. The persistence and patience it demanded seemed to carry over into adulthood. As the years passed, Randy settled into a quiet, [music] working-class life. He found steady employment with a local company, stayed there for years. He and his wife, Susan, built a life together that, from the outside, [music] seemed remarkably ordinary. Loved ones and many in the community would all describe the Voits [music] as genuinely good people, the kind of couple you'd trust with a spare house key. >> Everything we've heard about this couple was they were really good people. >> In 2006, Randy and Susan purchased a home on Highland Boulevard in Bartow. Their son, Joseph, nicknamed JoJo, was just 5 years old at the time. That house became the center of the family's life. Birthdays, [music] holidays, family dinners, it was where Joseph grew up under his parents' roof. [music] As he got older though, concerns began to surface. By his early 20s, he was still living at home, unemployed, not attending school, and spending most of his time online playing video games. His parents wanted more for him. Randy in particular became increasingly frustrated as he watched his son drift [music] without any clear direction. Arguments became more frequent. Family members tried encouraging Joseph to find work [music] and begin building an independent life. But beneath those everyday disagreements >> [music] >> were signs that something else was brewing. For example, [music] there were repeated police encounters in the months leading up to December 2024. At the time, each seemed like an [music] isolated incident. The first began with a quiet Thursday morning, a loaded handgun, and a reason that left officers scratching their heads. It was a seasonably warm Thursday morning in Bartow on October 19th. Skies were sunny, traffic was light, and for most residents, it began like any other day. But just after 10:00 a.m., police were dispatched to reports of gunfire in a quiet residential neighborhood. As officers entered the area, they heard additional shots and began searching for the source. They didn't have to look very far. Standing outside his home was [music] 22-year-old Joseph Voit. He was holding a handgun. As soon as he saw the officers, he dropped the firearm. When questioned, Joseph admitted he had fired multiple shots into the ground. When asked by officers why he did it, he replied, "I was just bored." But, firing rounds in a residential neighborhood carries obvious risks. Bullets can ricochet off pavement, penetrate nearby homes, or strike someone blocks away. By the time they were done, investigators had recovered 15 spent shell casings from [music] the street. Joseph was arrested and charged with discharging a firearm in a residential area. In Florida, it's a first-degree misdemeanor punishable by up to 1 year in jail. He posted bond and remained free as he awaited trial. Months later, on May 18th, officers returned to the Void home on reports of a family disturbance allegedly involving Joseph. However, that incident ended without [music] any criminal charges. The same cannot be said for November 30th. Just weeks before his scheduled court hearing in the firearm case, police were dispatched to another complaint involving Joseph. This time, it began miles away from home. A Bartow resident called to report a man dressed in black wandering through a neighborhood. He was observed yelling at locals and looking into the windows of a vacant house that was listed for sale. When two concerned neighbors approached to ask what he was doing, they told police the man suddenly sprayed both of them with mace before running away. The investigation led officers [music] right back to the Void residence. When they knocked on the door, Randy answered. Officers asked if Joseph was home. Randy told them his son was in the bathroom. Despite repeated requests from his parents, Joseph refused to come out. Only after an officer issued a lawful command did he finally step outside, where he was taken into custody without further incident. Joseph was charged with two counts of battery, released on bond the following day, and ordered not to possess any firearms while the case was pending. Just 1 week later, the Voyt family's address appeared on dispatch screens once again. But, this wasn't just another call for help. It was an account of sheer terror. >> I need a transfer. I got a gunshot. I shot her and her husband. >> Hello, caller. >> I'm about to pass out. >> Who is the shooter by you? >> One moment, ma'am. >> He's up in the attic. Help me. >> How do you know him? >> I don't know the caller. I'm getting PDN. >> Okay. All right. Yes, ma'am. Ma'am, they're coming as fast as they Okay? All right. We'll be there. Yes, ma'am. Yes, ma'am. They're coming as fast as they can. So, just stay with me, okay? All right. All right. We're coming as fast as we can. Okay, ma'am. Is the attacker still nearby? Okay. That's fine. Is there any serious bleeding? >> I don't know. >> Yes, ma'am. Yes, ma'am. They're coming as fast as they >> He's just bleeding. >> Is there any serious bleeding? >> Yes. Help me. He hit me. He shot my husband in the head. >> Okay. Yes, ma'am. They're coming as fast as they can. Okay? I understand. Yes, ma'am. They're coming as fast as they can. Yes. Ma'am, what Ma'am? >> Oh. >> Okay. What part of the body was injured? >> Head. >> Okay. I'm sorry. And I promise you they're coming to stop the bleeding, okay? Ma'am, ma'am, ma'am, is there more than one wound? Okay. All right, and now I'm going to go over there. I'm going to stop the bleeding. It's going to be a double level one, so >> Did we decide where the son was? >> Um she said she doesn't know. Anyway, she first called, she wasn't able to advise either. Ma'am, [music] I'm going to send a paramedic to help you now, okay? Stay on the line. I'll tell you exactly what to do next. I can go ahead and stop if you need to go ahead and ask your questions about it. >> Under standard emergency dispatch protocols, callers with life-threatening bleeding are coached through life-saving measures while paramedics are en route. But those instructions depend on one critical factor. The caller has to remain conscious long enough to follow them. >> Ma'am, I'm still there. >> Ma'am, please be advised we do not know where the son is at this time. >> Hello, ma'am. Ma'am, I don't know if he's okay. Listen, ma'am, they're coming to stop the bleeding again, okay? I'm going to tell you how to stop the bleeding. Listen carefully and make sure we do it right. Get a clean, dry cloth or towel and tell me when you have it. Hello, ma'am. Ma'am, hello. >> Ma'am, it was reported he also um injured in the head. >> I'm about to She's That's what she said. She said that she was shot in the head and then her husband was shot in the head. >> He's no longer responding. >> Saturday, December 7th. Just after 11:20 p.m., the first officer arrives at the Voit residence. In the driveway, he finds Randy Voit lying beside a vehicle with apparent gunshot wounds to the head. According to the arrest report, the responding officer noted that Randy appeared obviously deceased. Therefore, believing there could still be survivors inside, the officer immediately enters the home. Inside, he finds Susan Voit. She's still alive. As the officer reaches her, Susan utters words no mother should ever have to say. "My son shot me." She added that he also shot his father before fleeing. The officer renders aid until fire rescue arrives moments later. Susan is rushed to a nearby hospital in critical condition after becoming unresponsive. Within minutes, investigators issue a statewide alert for Joseph Voit. While working to identify the vehicle he might be driving, detectives [music] contact a relative. The relative tells them Joseph is likely in a gray Toyota Camry she had gifted him. She could offer no explanation for what had happened. At that point, investigators had a suspect, a vehicle, and a direction of travel. Then, at approximately 2:15 a.m., Orlando police locate the Camry on International Drive and pull the vehicle over. What happens next is a high-risk felony stop, a tactic used when officers have reason to believe a suspect is armed or connected to a violent crime. Every command is deliberate, every movement controlled. It may seem slow, but that's the point. Slowing the encounter gives officers time to assess threats, maintain control, and above all, prevent additional deaths. >> Get out. Stop. Put your hands up. Face away from me. Stop. Hands all the way up. Step to the right. Keep going. Keep going. >> Yes. >> Keep going. Stop. [music] From the top of your collar, lift up your shirt. From the top of your collar. The back. >> [music] >> And the top. Lift it. All the way up to expose your waistband. Slowly [music] spin around. Slowly spin around. Keep going. Keep going. Keep going. Keep going. >> You might be wondering why officers don't just rush in and handcuff the suspect. The answer is safety. Until Joseph is completely away from the vehicle, officers have no way of knowing whether he's carrying a concealed weapon or whether someone is hiding inside the car. That's why they're having him expose his waistband, rotate his body, and continue moving backward under constant supervision. They're deliberately keeping distance while forcing him to follow a sequence of precise instructions that limit sudden movements and gives officers time to react if the situation suddenly becomes dangerous. Considering what took place just over 3 hours earlier, this level of caution wasn't unusual. It was expected. >> Keep going. Keep going. Keep going. Keep stepping to your right. Keep going. Keep going. Keep going. Keep going. >> Anyone else in the car, dude? >> What you got? Wallet, cell, weapon, nothing? >> It's a question. >> No. >> Okay. It's terrible. Just want to look in the back. Okay. >> You need to tell you >> Here. >> Different directions for me, okay? >> While one group of officers detains Joseph and conducts an initial search, another team methodically clears the vehicle, checking for additional occupants, weapons, or any other immediate threats before detectives and forensics approach it. >> Move it on passenger side. Hey, get ready. You have them ready to back this off, y'all? >> I got it. >> Brother, you had no other property just your wallet, right? That's all you had on you? >> Wallet and $2. >> Going to have you stand up real quick, all right, buddy? >> Okay. >> Stay right here, face the car. >> For our protection now. >> Yes. Yes. >> Got to top real quick. >> Yes, sir. >> Just got to light him up. >> Anything else? Hey, bud. Look that way for me. No, like you move your whole body that way. We're going to switch your handcuffs, okay? >> As officers prepare Joseph for transport, one of them applies a second set of handcuffs before checking that they're not too tight. It may look like a simple courtesy, but it's actually standard procedure. Handcuffs that are overly tight can restrict circulation, compress nerves, and cause lasting wrist injuries. Taking a few seconds to adjust them helps protect the suspect from unnecessary harm. Of course, it also reduces the risk that an otherwise lawful arrest becomes compromised by an excessive use of force claim. >> Cool. All right. I'm going to make sure these things don't tighten up on you. Cool. All right. You can sit normal. Yeah, you're good. >> [snorts] >> By the end of the encounter, Joseph Void was taken into custody without a single shot being fired. For officers confronting a homicide suspect believed to be armed, it was a textbook example of adequate use of force. Joseph was transported to the Orange County Jail, where Polk County Sheriff's Office detectives interviewed him. >> That was kind of weird, but I still got to watch you, all right? I'm going to go back in the three. If you need something, I'm in the monitor room. Just kind of holler out holler out to me. Let me know if you what you can do or what you need, all right? >> All right. >> And what's your first name? >> Joseph. >> Joseph, [clears throat] I'm Wayne. If you need something, give me a holler. >> [snorts] >> What you just saw is virtually all of the interview footage that has been made public at the time of this upload. Despite public records requests, including one submitted by our channel, the remainder of Joseph Voit's interview has not yet been released. As a result, what we know about his statements comes from police reports and other official court records. According to investigators, Joseph admitted to shooting both his father and his mother. He told detectives his father constantly rode his ass about spending most of his time playing video games, getting a job, and making something of himself. Prosecutors initially charged Joseph with first-degree murder for the death of Randy Voit and attempted first-degree murder for the shooting of Susan Voit. As the case progressed, prosecutors ultimately resolved the charges through a negotiated plea agreement. In April 2025, Joseph agreed to plead guilty to one count of second-degree murder and one count of attempted second-degree murder. In exchange, he was sentenced to 40 years in the Florida Department of Corrections. While every case is unique, the circumstances surrounding Joseph Voit invite comparisons to several other tragedies involving young men and their own parents. [music] Cases like Tyler Hadley, Chandler Halderson, and Grant Amato are very different in their details, but they share a number of unsettling themes. Each involved a young man who struggled to establish self-sufficiency, remaining heavily dependent on family, financially, emotionally, or both. And in each case, the relationship between parent and child had become increasingly strained by conflict over responsibility, expectations, and the future. It's tempting to point to one factor, video games, social isolation, unemployment, or life online as the explanation, but investigators and forensic experts rarely find a single cause. Instead, these tragedies often emerge from a complicated intersection of dependency, deception, deteriorating family relationships, untreated behavioral or mental health issues, and escalating conflict behind closed doors. Whether Joseph Voit belongs in that same category is ultimately for investigators, the courts, and the evidence to determine. But his case raises many of the same difficult questions. In the end, this wasn't just the story of a homicide investigation. It was the story of a typical American family living in a modest home on an ordinary street in small-town Florida until one night changed everything forever. The evidence tells us what happened, but it can't fully explain why. While Joseph alone is responsible for pulling the trigger, tragedies like this often spark broader conversations about enabling and dependency. It leads [music] to a difficult question. When an adult child struggles, how do families balance support with the need for independence? As always, feel free to share your thoughts below.