Nancy Guthrie didn’t go to church on the morning of February 1. For an 84-year-old woman who lived alone in Tucson, Arizona, that absence was strange enough to make her worry. It was the start of something much worse—she went missing, which led to hundreds of investigators, more than 20,000 tips, and her family offering a $1 million reward to anyone who could find her.
Things about this case aren’t just the circumstances that make it so scary. That which came before is what it is. Nancy Guthrie was last seen at her house on January 31st evening. That night, there was nothing, at least nothing that could be seen from the outside, that hinted at what was to come. She was gone by morning. The police say it’s possible that she was taken against her will in the middle of the night.
Doorbell camera footage later made public by the FBI showed a man in a mask and with a gun outside her Tucson home around the time she went missing. That picture, which was grainy and very scary like most surveillance footage, was one of the few concrete clues that investigators shared with the public. It’s still not clear if all the footage fits into the same time frame. Two law enforcement sources said that at least one picture may have been taken earlier, but the sheriff’s office says this is not true.
Savannah Guthrie, co-host of NBC’s Today and Nancy’s daughter, has been incredibly honest and open throughout this whole thing. She has been raw in a way that feels real and not fake. People will never forget what she said in an Instagram video: “We are blowing on the embers of hope.” She looked very emotional and tired. Not a simple way to understand that phrase. It sounds desperate and determined at the same time. It’s what you say when you refuse to give up believing even though believing is painful.
In late February, the family offered a $1 million reward. This was a decision that was carefully thought out and made with the help of police. It seems that they were ready to give money earlier but didn’t because investigators told them not to. They were afraid that a rush of early rewards would overwhelm the tip infrastructure that was already in place. More than 750 calls came into the FBI’s tip line in the first twelve hours after the news spread. It was clear from a federal official: “We don’t need another thousand calls.” We need one. Money can make people lose a lot of their loyalty.
That’s not a sarcastic point of view. It’s an honest one. Jason Pack, a former FBI supervisor, said something similar on Today. He said that the reward probably made anyone close to what happened really face the consequences. It’s likely that someone, somewhere, knows something. It’s a whole different story if they decide to talk.
The Pima County Sheriff’s Office has made one thing clear: the Guthrie family is not a suspect list. Any idea that went against what Sheriff Chris Nanos said was “not only wrong” but also “cruel.” The case is being worked on by several hundred people. The family has said they are going to give $500,000 to the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. This is a gesture that goes beyond their own situation; it’s a recognition that millions of families live with this kind of uncertainty, usually without cameras or public attention.
People who support Nancy Guthrie have left flowers and handwritten signs outside of her Tucson home. One said, in part, “We understand that accidents do happen. You can choose what to do in life. Make the right one now, please.” That kind of sign makes it hard to figure out who it’s for and how the person who wrote it was feeling. But there’s truth to it. A community that tries to get in touch with the person or people who are responsible, not out of fear but out of conscience.
Nancy Guthrie is 84 years old. It was what she did every Sunday. She had a house, a family, and a daughter whose voice was heard by most people. Then one night, it wasn’t enough to keep her safe. The investigation keeps going. You can still call the tip line. Somewhere in Tucson, people are still waiting for the call that will make everything different.
