Three YouTubers were arrested Monday near the Pima County home of missing woman Nancy Guthrie after months of complaints from neighbors who say the livestreamers have turned their street into a spectacle, blocking roads, trespassing, and, in at least one case, urinating in public behind a makeshift tent.
The Pima County Sheriff's Department confirmed the arrests of Alexander Zabel Jr., 54; Troy Lewis "DAA Juice" Bradshaw, 34; and Damian Todd Enderle, 46, on June 8. All three face misdemeanor charges. Zabel and Bradshaw were booked into the Pima County Adult Detention Complex. Enderle was cited and released at the scene.
The arrests mark the sharpest law-enforcement response yet to an ongoing problem that has plagued Guthrie's neighborhood since the 71-year-old, mother of "Today" show host Savannah Guthrie, vanished on February 1 under circumstances authorities have called an abduction. For months, self-appointed internet investigators have descended on the quiet residential area, livestreaming for clicks while residents pleaded for peace. The sheriff's department finally drew a hard line.
Arizona Traffic Ticket and Complaint forms obtained by 13 News lay out the specific allegations against Zabel and Bradshaw. The details are not flattering.
Zabel faces two counts of obstructing a highway or thoroughfare and one count of public nuisance. Sheriff's documents accuse him of placing traffic cones on a roadway and sitting in a lawn chair during a livestream on May 26. On June 6, he allegedly set up what the document calls his "pee tent" on a road in the neighborhood. Sheriff Chris Nanos told 13 News reporter Kayla Butter on Monday that deputies had received video evidence of a YouTuber peeing in public behind a makeshift tent and pouring urine on a nearby property.
Zabel was held on a $453 bond.
The PCSD document describing Zabel's conduct did not hold back:
"Due to the sensitivity and proximity to the high-profile address, Alexander made an offensive setting in the middle of the neighborhood, causing an obstruction to the free use of property that interferes with the comfortable enjoyment of life of property by the entire community."
Bradshaw's ticket was more concise. He was charged with one count of public nuisance and held on a $255 bond. His citation described him as "live streaming on the side of the road, causing a nuisance to others who reside in the neighborhood."
Enderle, who helps manage the local crime blog 857 Tucson, was charged with one count of public nuisance. During a livestream Monday night, he said he expected to face a fine but did not know the amount.
The arrests did not come out of nowhere. Sheriff Nanos has said for months that neighbors and the local homeowners association filed repeated complaints about streamers who refused to leave despite being asked multiple times. The HOA posted trespassing signs. Deputies issued warnings. PCSD set up designated media areas early in the Guthrie case and made clear that trespassing charges were on the table.
None of it worked. The streamers kept coming back. When law enforcement draws a clear line and people cross it anyway, the next step is enforcement, and that is exactly what happened Monday.
A PCSD release issued to 13 News Monday night made the department's position plain: "Despite those efforts, some individuals continued to disregard the law." The statement continued: "Sheriff Nanos will no longer tolerate behavior that disrupts the community or violates the law. Effective immediately, individuals found in violation of the law may be cited and released on a first offense."
That language, "cited and released on a first offense", suggests the department is prepared to escalate if streamers return.
Nancy Guthrie has been missing since February 1. Authorities have said she was taken against her will. The PCSD and the FBI are still investigating. Tens of thousands of tips have poured into both agencies' tip lines, but no suspects have been identified.
The family has offered a $1 million reward for information leading to her recovery. The FBI has offered $100,000. A man in Milwaukee added a separate private $100,000 reward. The crime-tip line 88-CRIME has offered up to $100,000 for information leading to an arrest.
In early May, a YouTuber found human remains near River and Craycroft in the Tucson area. That discovery underscored the chaotic, uncontrolled nature of the amateur search effort that has surrounded the case, well-meaning in some instances, reckless in others.
When 13 News spoke with Zabel back in February during a volunteer search for Guthrie, he struck a very different tone than the one reflected in the charges filed against him months later. "We feel it's our duty to find her," Zabel said at the time. "It's everybody's mom, everybody's grandmother."
Whatever duty Zabel felt in February, the sheriff's department now says his conduct by late May and early June had crossed from civic concern into public nuisance, complete with traffic cones, lawn chairs, and a tent rigged for urination on a residential street.
Not everyone agreed with the arrests. During a Monday night stream, 857 Tucson said its followers raised money to bond out both Zabel and Bradshaw. By 9:15 p.m., the blog's operators were outside the Pima County Adult Detention Center waiting for the two men to be released. They claimed several other people were also waiting.
Meanwhile, the Pima County Deputy's Organization, which has long been critical of Sheriff Nanos, weighed in on X with a post about the arrests. "The public can once again see why we fight so hard to rid ourselves of him," the organization wrote, though the post did not specify which aspect of the sheriff's handling it objected to.
The courthouse told 13 News that no interim complaints exist for any of the three men. 13 News reporter Mary Coleman reached out to the HOA for comment and had not heard back as of 7 p.m. Monday.
Sheriff Nanos also confirmed Monday that a memorial for Guthrie near her home had been removed. He said the sheriff's department did not remove it and suggested the HOA may have been responsible. That detail, minor on its own, captures the broader tension: a neighborhood caught between a genuine tragedy and the circus that has grown up around it.
The Nancy Guthrie case is a real crime with real stakes. A woman was apparently abducted. Her family is desperate. The FBI is involved. The reward money alone, well over $1 million combined, reflects the seriousness of the situation.
But seriousness does not grant anyone a license to camp on residential streets, block traffic with lawn chairs and cones, urinate in public, and livestream the whole production for an audience. That is not investigation. That is disruption dressed up as concern, monetized through clicks and views. The residents who live in Guthrie's neighborhood did not ask for any of it. They filed complaints. They went through the HOA. They waited for law enforcement to act. It took months.
The pattern is familiar in an era when communities bear the consequences of decisions made by people who never have to live with the results. In this case, the streamers descended on a neighborhood reeling from a crime, turned a missing-persons case into content, and left the people who actually live there to deal with blocked roads, trespassing, and public urination.
Mid-February, PCSD told 13 News that one of the hardest parts of the investigation was vetting the sheer volume of tips. Tens of thousands have come in. Sorting signal from noise in a case like this is painstaking work. Amateur streamers clogging the neighborhood and generating spectacle do not make that job easier.
There is a broader lesson here about what happens when law enforcement faces sustained public-safety challenges and the online world treats real crime scenes as content opportunities. The people with cameras and ring lights are not accountable to the neighborhood. They do not answer to the HOA. They do not pick up after themselves. And when they get arrested, their followers raise bail money within hours.
The incentive structure is broken. A streamer gets arrested for blocking a road and urinating in public, and his audience treats it as proof of persecution rather than a natural consequence of antisocial behavior. The neighbors, meanwhile, are the ones who had to smell the "pee tent."
Sheriff Nanos deserves credit for finally enforcing the line. Whether misdemeanor charges and small bonds are enough to deter the next wave of content tourists remains an open question. The department's statement that first-time violators "may be cited and released" leaves room for stiffer consequences on a second offense. That escalation may prove necessary.
The Guthrie family still has no answers. The FBI and PCSD are still working the case. Anyone with information can call 1-800-CALL-FBI or 88-CRIME. Those are the calls that matter, not the ones made to a livestream audience from a lawn chair in the middle of someone else's street.
When authorities finally act to restore order after repeated warnings go unheeded, the only surprise is that it took this long.
A missing woman's neighborhood is not a studio set. The residents who live there deserve the same peace and order that every American expects on their own street, and no amount of subscriber counts should override that.
