Six year anniversary of Standing Rock unsolved murder

“My favorite memory was just having him here,” Eagle said. “We were always together in our bedroom watching movies with our kids. He kept telling me he wanted to get married, even if we get married and come home and just watch movies.”

Eagle said she and Iron Road met at a party in 1995 at a mutual friend’s house. They were dating on and off, but it wasn’t until 2013 that they became a couple and decided to move in together in McLaughlin, South Dakota.

Memoree LeCompte, a friend and co-worker of Iron Road’s, describes him as an outgoing, comical man who loved his job. She said the last time she saw him he wasn’t himself.

She said he came to work with bruises on his face and wouldn’t tell any of his coworkers, who were also some of his closest friends, what happened or who hurt him. LeCompte said he changed his story multiple times, and to this day, she doesn’t know why he was bruised.

He was struggling with addiction, LeCompte said, but before his homicide he’d “turned his life around.” He was working on his sobriety and saving money for a new trailer for his family.

Eagle said Iron Road tried to hide his injuries from her. He was still walking five miles with broken ribs to KLND Radio, where he worked as a DJ. Eventually, the swelling in his face dramatically worsened and the pain was unbearable. He left work to go to Mobridge Regional Hospital.

“His baby’s first birthday was coming up and so was Christmas,” Eagle said. “So he kept going to work until he couldn’t handle the pain anymore.”

Iron Road was released that same day. Eagle said it was then she found out from the hospital how bad his injuries were. She said he had swelling in his brain, and his eyes were swollen shut. But since there wasn’t any internal bleeding, he was released with pain medication.

“Within 24 hours, hour by hour he got worse,” Eagle said. “Oh my God he suffered. The whole time he constantly shook like he had the chills.”

The Bureau of Indian Affairs opened a homicide investigation following Iron Road’s death.

“In my personal opinion, they pushed hard in the beginning when it was a spotlight,” Eagle said. “Until they started investigating and finding out he was a drug addict and it seemed like after that, they didn’t push so hard.”

Eagle said she called the Standing Rock ambulance service on Dec. 7, 2019. When they arrived, Iron Road refused service, Eagle said. He said he didn’t want to leave his family.

The paramedics asked Iron Road a series of questions to determine if he was fit to refuse service. Eagle doesn’t remember how many he answered incorrectly but said she was told if he’d answered one more wrong he would have been deemed unfit to refuse service.

Later that same day, he slipped in and out of consciousness and vomited up blood, Eagle said. She said she called the ambulance again, multiple times, but this time, they refused to come, since they’d already been there that day and Iron Road had signed a paper refusing service.

The Standing Rock Sioux Tribe did not respond to a request for information about its ambulance service’s policies or Iron Road’s specific case.

Bobby Tallchief, Osage Nation’s director of emergency management, is unfamiliar with Iron Road’s case, but he said paramedics denying service in the way that Edwards described seems “really odd.” “We never said, ‘No we aren’t coming’ because of something that happened in the morning,” Tallchief said. “That’s just not right. When the bell rings, you go.”

Eagle did not give up. She asked Iron Road’s family to help her convince him to go to the hospital. A family member contacted Jonathan Edwards, a friend of Iron Road’s who at the time was a volunteer for Akicita Fire Department, Standing Rock Sioux Tribe’s volunteer fire department. He agreed to check on Iron Road.

Edwards wrote a report following the incident, which he sent to Bear Soldier District Officers. He gave Buffalo’s Fire permission to quote from the report.

“I did not respond as a member of Akicita Volunteer Fire Department because we do not have an Emergency Response Unit in the community at this time, and I am not registered or currently licensed as an EMT or Paramedic,” Edwards wrote. “It is because of these factors that I am not in violation of any HIPPA or privacy laws in writing this report. I responded as a private citizen to a friend’s wife’s call for help.”

In the report, Edwards said Iron Road was unable to answer questions and follow commands. Edwards asked Eagle to call the ambulance again.

The report states Edwards spoke on the phone with the ambulance dispatcher, who told him Iron Road was already treated at a hospital and there was “nothing wrong with him.” Edwards said in the report that Iron Road needed urgent medical attention.

Finally, paramedics agreed to come.

Iron Road was airlifted to a hospital in Bismarck. He lost consciousness in the helicopter but woke up in the hospital distraught and confused, said Eagle. She heard he was looking for her, but she wasn’t able to be with him because she needed to take care of their daughters.

Eagle said Iron Road was put into a medically induced coma to calm him down. She and her daughters visited him later that night. Eagle’s youngest daughter spent her first birthday in the hospital. One week after he was put into the coma, doctors tried to take him out of it.

“He wouldn’t wake up. He reached a temperature of 107 from the infection in his face,” Eagle said. “I saw the brain scan two days before he died, and his brain was alive in parts. But it didn’t matter.”

Now, six years later, his loved ones are still looking for answers.

“I felt lost after Nate left us,” LeCompte said. “It sucks to this day there’s no conclusion or justice for him.”

LeCompte said she wants justice for whoever killed Iron Road. “They took a life. They took a dad from his babies. They took a man from his dreams.”

LeCompte said her favorite memory was when she gave Iron Road a ride home from work and they picked up a hitchhiker. The stranger immediately recognized their voices from the radio station. The three had a good laugh, something LeCompte said Iron Road was good at making people do.

“He would always joke around,” LeCompte said. “He would brighten your day.”

Shortly after his death, community members and relatives were speaking out about the incident. Eagle said she was told that a group of men had attempted to rob Iron Road and that things got out of hand. The individual who told her that did not want to go to the police, Eagle said.

When Eagle told investigators about the conversation, she said they told her there was nothing they could do unless the individual came forward and spoke to the police directly.

“There is a lack of holding someone accountable,” she said. “People know what happened and are not wanting to come forward. I don’t know why they don’t want to go to the cops.”

The last time Eagle heard from the BIA regarding Iron Road’s murder was Sept. 2024, when she said they performed a routine check-in with follow-up questions. Eagle said she got a letter in 2020 from the BIA stating they are no longer pursuing the investigation, and are handing the case over to the tribal police.

It is unclear if Iron Road’s case is still being federally investigated. The BIA did not respond to a request for comment. The FBI said they cannot comment on an open case or confirm they are investigating.

Since his death, Eagle said street lights have been put up on the road where Iron Road was reportedly assaulted.

LeCompte said she was always proud of the way Iron Road made a better life for himself despite hardships. His story has inspired her to lead with kindness and love.

In her culture, when people die, LeCompte said, they move on to the spirit world where they watch over Earth from stars in the sky. Now, when she wants to speak to Iron Road, she looks to the stars.