Complimentary Story
August 2026Have you ever experienced an event in your life that causes you to wonder or even doubt whether you can recover? I’m talking about something that creates a sudden and unexpected anguish, a pain so great that it becomes your constant companion. A grief that suddenly hijacks part of your being and claims permanent residence in a portion of your soul, carving deeper and spreading wider until the void is vast enough to merit its own zip code within you.
If my words resonate with you, I understand, because I, too, have felt such pain. And perhaps, like you, I’ve felt it more than once during my life.
It’s now been six months since the abduction and likely murder of 84-year-old Nancy Guthrie, most famously known as the mother of Today Show co-host Savannah Guthrie. She’s also the mother of two other, lesser-known adult children, Charles “Camron” Guthrie, and Annie Guthrie. Nancy is also a grandmother.
Except for the family celebrity connection, this case might not have captured the public’s attention. Beyond the notoriety, however, the unresolved status of this case, the oddities and numerous unanswered questions continue to drive real-time discussion across many media platforms.
Since her apparent abduction, countless hours of analysis have been provided by well-known retired homicide detectives, veteran FBI case agents, behavior profilers, and forensic linguists, in addition to the observations and commentary by arm-chair detectives.
Everybody counts or nobody counts
Readers who have suffered a loss every bit as brutal or baffling might be dismissive of the attention given to the Guthrie case. Perhaps you are dealing with your own unresolved case of a missing or murdered loved one. A death enveloped by suspicions that are ignored by police or dismissed by the media. Attention is something that “ordinary families” simply do not receive. That disparity is real, and it stings with a particular cruelty when you are left alone to push reluctant agencies while the world moves on. It is the unanswered questions — specifically, information that is knowable but not known — that taunts you by day and haunts you at night. I know because I’ve lived it.
In the words of the fictional homicide detective Harry Bosch, “Everybody counts or nobody counts.” The character, a creation of author Michael Connelly, might be fictional, but the words are not. Every victim deserves the same level of effort and justice, regardless of their social status, whether they are a marginalized individual or a powerful figure.
Your demand for answers is legitimate. Your grief is valid. Your loss is not lesser, and that your case has lacked investigative attention or hasn’t been packaged for mass consumption must not deter your quest for truth and justice. I know because I’ve not only lived it, I’ve learned how to navigate through it.
Observations of the Guthrie Case
Even if you’ve been closely following the abduction and likely murder of Nancy Guthrie, you undoubtedly have questions. Especially if you’ve been closely following the case. From the very beginning, nothing about her abduction has appeared to make sense.
The account given to the public is this: An 84-year-old widow in fragile health and limited mobility, living alone for fifty years in the same quiet house in the Catalina foothills of Pima County outside Tucson, was allegedly taken from her bedroom in the early hours of February 1, 2026.
She was first noticed missing when she failed to arrive at a friend’s home that Sunday morning to stream the New York church service her daughter Savannah attends — a standing weekly gathering. Around 11:00 a.m., one of those friends called Annie Guthrie, who lives only a few miles away with her husband Tommaso Cioni and their teenage son. Annie and Tommaso were Nancy’s primary caregivers.
According to the official timeline released by Pima County Sheriff Christopher Nanos, Nancy had spent the previous evening at Annie and Tommaso’s home for dinner and games. She arrived there by Uber around 5:32 p.m. and was driven back, the garage door opening at 9:48 p.m. and closing two minutes later. That was the last confirmed activity at the residence.
Family members later reported discovering her missing at 11:56 a.m. the next day; the Sheriff’s Department was notified at 12:03 p.m. and a patrol unit arrived twelve minutes after that. The back doors were found propped open. Blood later identified as Nancy’s was observed just outside the front door. Inside, investigators located her purse, cell phone, hearing aids, Apple Watch, and — most critically — her life-sustaining medication. Nancy herself was gone.
Most of what followed remains the subject of intense public debate and is readily available online. If you choose to dig further, use real discernment about your sources.
Closer to home
As this issue of Wisconsin Christian News hits the stands, six months have passed without answers about exactly what happened to Nancy Guthrie. Just days before, Savannah Guthrie posted an impassioned public video message across social media, appealing to whoever had her mother to “do the right thing.” Her message struck me as carefully worded and curious, as I suspect she knew exactly who she was addressing. Beyond that, however, her celebrity status did what you or I could not — immediately reach millions of people.
Shortly after Nancy Guthrie’s “disappearance,” I was asked to investigate a local case of a missing 69-year-old woman who was last seen in January 2026. Although 15 years younger than Nancy, she was also noted to be in very fragile health and lived alone. A neighbor and friend noted that she suddenly and inexplicably disappeared from her home. Food was left on the counter and in the refrigerator, a pan on the stove, mail on the counter, and clothes in her closet. No obvious signs of foul play — but gone. Just gone.
I was asked to investigate because her friend could not get the police to do so, despite contacting them by phone and in person numerous times over a three-month period. Admittedly, there was no blood at her house, which was locked-up tight. There were no signs of a struggle. Just an eerie silence inside her home, and a deafening silence from the police. She was not the mother of a celebrity like Nancy Guthrie, but a mother, grandmother, and friend, nonetheless. Yes, the disparity is real. It’s unfair, and it stings.
In my case, she had no one to plead for her to millions of followers on social media, nor was her case mentioned by President Trump or FBI Director Kash Patel. What she did have, however, was a very determined and persistent pro-bono investigator and friend who cared and who wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. As a result, search warrants were written, approved, and executed. DNA was collected. An investigation by the local police major crimes division was opened and pursued. And before the six-month date of Nancy Guthrie’s “disappearance,” closure. You see, everybody counts or nobody counts.
My message for this issue is dedicated to the readers of Wisconsin Christian News who need it most. Those who have suffered or are suffering from having a loved one ripped from your life by murder or swallowed whole by their mysterious disappearance. I understand because I lived it. The only way I found to survive it is to turn pain into persistence and be guided by passion and prayer. And never take no for an answer.
Regarding the case of Nancy Guthrie, my assessment is best reflected by a statement by Ayn Rand and modified by fictional police chief Jessee Stone played by Tom Sellick: “If you don’t like the answers you’re getting, check your premises.” I would state it a bit differently: if things are not making sense, go back to the very beginning and question the original narrative.
HagmannPI.com
