For more than a year, almost two, the question remained unanswered. The man at the center of this story is Simón Rodríguez, who vanished on February 1, 2022. A retired 78-year-old with a gentle smile and a steady temperament, he left his home in El Cerro de Andévalo in the morning and told his family he planned a countryside excursion. He was seen at the health center about half an hour later, and then—nothing. He did not return home that day, and the community began a long, relentless search that continues to this day.
“The land swallowed him,” says Encarna, one of Simón’s three daughters. She speaks of a disappearance that defies easy explanation, a case that has consumed countless hours of searching, interviews, and worry. The family remembers the last movements with painstaking clarity: the last sighting is placed on the sidewalk behind the doctor’s office, and the alert was issued immediately as the search effort began in earnest.
On that Tuesday morning, Encarna was in regular contact with her mother, who always asked about the previous night. At 9:25, a routine message arrived: her father had left the house. He was anxious, sensing something was off. Encarna asked her mother to be calm, recalling that the day had begun with a sense of unease. Her mother described her husband as awake since dawn, intending to go to the countryside, take a shower, and perhaps use the bathroom before heading out. Despite attempts to persuade him to stay, he was determined to go by nine o’clock.
By late morning, the family had mobilized the first lines of search. Encarna phoned a friend and the local health center in a bid to stay anchored, and by noon the Civil Guard had been alerted and engaged. The pace of the investigation quickened as the hours slipped by.
“I’ll go get some paper for a while.”
Encarna recalls that Simón left the house around 9:15 a.m. He had entered the wellness center before 10:00, though he did not have his mask on and was reminded by staff that entry required one. He told the attendant he needed to use the restroom and grab some paper before heading to the countryside, explaining that he might need it while out in the fields. The center’s reception was busy with appointments, and it’s unclear whether anyone saw him leave after that moment. Moments later, a friend reported spotting him near the esplanade in Cabezo de la Horca, in front of the town’s patron saint statue.
After 11:00 a.m., Encarna joined the search alongside a Civil Guard sergeant. They moved into the countryside near a nearby Beremérita area, calling out for him as they went. The search escalated into a sustained effort, but the sense of time stretching without answers persisted: a year, then a year and a half, and still no trace of Simón.
Night vision and relentless effort
The news of Simón’s disappearance shocked the town. He was a well-known figure in the community, a former barber who had become a familiar and friendly presence to many. Despite health issues, he had not shown significant cognitive decline and was managing his conditions with the care of loved ones. The family notes that while he might have had Parkinson’s symptoms—muscle stiffness and slower movement—these did not define his character or his independence, and they struggled with what could have happened in the hours that followed his last sighting.
Search efforts involved dogs from the Civil Guard’s Sinologist Service, a helicopter, night-vision equipment, multiple patrols, drones, and dozens of volunteers on foot and by vehicle. The town’s collective memory is filled with the images of people combing the countryside, following any lead, and holding onto a fragile thread of hope that Simón would be found safe.
“The vast majority think he might have gotten into a car.”
Encarna speaks of a common worry among family and neighbors: if he left the path he could have been taken by someone else, or perhaps he wandered off and became disoriented. She wants to believe that he found his way somewhere, even if the answer remains elusive. The family understands that this is not simply about a missing person; it is about a life—Simón’s life—full of work, countryside memories, and the love of his family. His clothes—tracksuit, a sleeveless green-tinged vest, light-blue shoes, and a hat—are remembered as a possible clue of the last moments before he disappeared. No wallet, no hat, nothing turned up to confirm a location or moment when the trail went cold. The search continues because every thread matters.
Police investigations have considered disorientation and the possibility of a tragic accident. Yet the family remains grounded in a need for closure. They acknowledge the uncertainty while choosing to hold onto the belief that something, somewhere, will bring them answers. They want to know what happened and where his path ended, to honor his memory and bring a sense of peace to those who loved him most.
The family reflects on Simón’s life—his role as the town’s first barber, his love of the countryside, and his skill with horses and hunting. The community remembers him as a man who moved with purpose and who cared deeply for the people around him. The grandchildren await his return, and the entire town longs for a sign that Simón is somewhere safe.