May 11, 2011, began like any other spring day in Aurora, Illinois. Timmothy Pitzen, a cheerful six-year-old with sandy brown hair and a big smile, walked into his kindergarten classroom at Greenman Elementary School. His father, Jim Pitzen, had dropped him off like usual. No one could have guessed that within hours, Timmothy would vanish—and that his disappearance would become one of the most puzzling unsolved cases in recent memory.
Fourteen years later, there are still no answers. Only a chilling note, and a nation still asking the same question: Where is Timmothy?
A Normal Morning, Until It Wasn’t
Shortly after school began that morning, Amy Fry-Pitzen, Timmothy’s mother, arrived at the school office. She said there had been a family emergency and signed her son out at 8:10 a.m. The staff didn’t question her because she was his mom. The school day went on.
But Jim didn’t know Amy had picked Timmothy up. He returned to the school that afternoon expecting to see his son—and instead learned he’d never made it to class after morning attendance. That’s when the panic began.
According to the Chicago Magazine, Amy’s next stop was a car repair shop around 10 a.m. in Aurora. A shop employee later told police he gave Amy and Timmothy a ride to Brookfield Zoo, where they spent the day. By 3 p.m., Amy had picked up her car. Then, instead of going home, she headed north.
The next 72 hours are both clearly documented and deeply unsettling.
Amy took Timmothy to the KeyLime Cove Resort in Gurnee, Illinois that night. The next morning, they traveled even farther north to the Kalahari Resort, a massive indoor waterpark in Wisconsin Dells. Surveillance footage confirmed both locations. At Kalahari, they appeared calm, smiling and nothing seemed off.
Then, on the morning of May 13, cameras caught them checking out of the resort. That was the last time Timmothy was ever seen.
What happened next unravels the story further.
Calls From the Road
After leaving Wisconsin Dells, Amy’s route turned strange. Instead of heading home to Aurora, she drove south toward Sterling, Illinois. Along the way, she began making calls to family members. Between noon and 1:30 p.m., she spoke with her mother and her brother-in-law.
She said she and Timmothy were safe, not in danger.
Her mother, Alana Anderson, said she could hear Timmothy in the background. At one point, the boy got on the phone himself and said he was hungry.
Oddly, Amy never contacted her husband.
Then the calls stopped. Cell tower data later placed her last known phone signal near Route 40, northwest of Sterling, close to Oak Knoll Cemetery. After that, the phone was turned off.
The Final Hours of Amy Fry-Pitzen
At around 6 p.m. on May 13, Amy was spotted on surveillance cameras at a Family Dollar store in Winnebago, Illinois, buying a pen, notepaper, and envelopes. A few minutes later, she showed up at a Sullivan’s Foods grocery store, purchasing snacks.
There was no sign of Timmothy in either video.
At 11:15 p.m., Amy checked into the Rockford Inn in Rockford, Illinois.
The next morning, hotel staff found her dead by suicide. She had used an overdose of antihistamines and slit her wrists.
On the bedside table was a suicide note that changed everything.
According to the ABC 7 Chicago, it read in part: “Timmothy is safe with people who love him and will care for him. You will never find him.”
She left no clues, no names, no explanation of where Timmothy might be.
The Search Begins
When police found Amy’s 2004 Ford Expedition at the Rockford Inn, they noticed something strange: grass and mud packed into the car’s undercarriage. This suggested Amy had driven off-road at some point.
Inside, they also found a small amount of blood that later matched Timmothy’s DNA.
At first, this was alarming—but family members explained that Timmothy had frequent nosebleeds. Police could not determine how old the blood was.
With the help of local law enforcement, the FBI, and volunteers, a massive search effort began across northwest Illinois. Over 70 people scoured rural fields and wooded areas around Sterling and Rock Falls, where Amy’s phone had last pinged.
But no backpack, no clothes, no body—nothing was found.
Jim Pitzen, who had never suspected his wife was planning anything unusual, went public right away.
“He’s out there somewhere,” Jim told reporters. “I know he’s OK. I just want him to come home.”
Over the years, Jim and other family members have repeated the same heartbreaking message: Timmothy, if you’re out there, we love you. We miss you.
Amy’s family was also blindsided. While they were aware she had struggled with depression, nothing hinted that she was planning to disappear with her son—or take her own life.
In interviews, her relatives have mentioned that she may have believed she was protecting Timmothy from something, though no details were ever shared.
The 2019 Hoax
In a case already filled with confusion, one of the cruelest moments came in April 2019. A young man found wandering in Newport, Kentucky claimed to be Timmothy.
He said he had escaped from two men who had held him in captivity for years.
The story made national headlines.
But within hours, DNA results shattered the hope. The man was not Timmothy. He was Brian Michael Rini, a 23-year-old from Ohio with a criminal record and a history of making false claims.
“It’s devastating,” Timmothy’s aunt, Kara Jacobs, told ABC News. “It’s like reliving the day all over again.”
Rini was later sentenced to two years in federal prison for making false statements.
A Case Still Open
Despite no new confirmed sightings, authorities continue to follow every tip. In 2013, a phone believed to be Amy’s was found off a highway in northwest Illinois—but it offered no usable data.
The FBI has released age-progression photos showing what Timmothy might look like as a teenager. He would now be 20 years old.
FBI Supervisory Special Agent Timothy Beam said in 2019: “Law enforcement has not and will not forget Timmothy. We hope to one day reunite him with his family.”
In the years since his disappearance, Timmothy’s story has become one of the most baffling missing child cases in the country. His father has remarried but continues to mark every birthday and milestone with quiet hope.
“My prayer,” said his grandmother, Alana Anderson, in an interview with NBC Chicago, “has always been that when he is old enough, he would find us if we couldn’t find him.”
The note Amy left may have been a final message—or a riddle that still hasn’t been solved.
Until there’s proof otherwise, Timmothy’s family—and the world—will continue to wait.
