#SebastianRogers • This is Sebastian’s abusive stepfather, Christopher Proudfoot, threatening to “slap the shit” out of a “c*nt private investigator.” He continued belittling those searching for Seth Rogers’ son, Sebastian.
Look is crazy this fat bitch go blah blah like chicken laying the egg of a ostrich. I’m shook she make threats to people and cry “omg free speech” then “I’m sue you if you talk shit”
She typical Altoona trash bag who live in her ghetto car shop turned into catering slop shop 🤭
If anybody see Granny tell her to stop running from service OMG they went 5 times her dad say “she gonna cooperate I will see to it” and she still hiding 🤗🤭
“I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.” — 2 Timothy 4:7
HEAVEN JUST GOT LOUDER. WE WILL FOREVER MISS AND REMEMBER YOU, DOLLY. 💔
When AtNight came into Sebastian’s case in August 2024, the request was painfully simple: help a father find his son.
Nothing that followed was simple.
We expected the work to involve searching for information. Most of our time was actually spent figuring out whether the information arriving every day deserved to be believed. That difference became the whole job.
Anyone who worked this case knows the feeling. A message comes in late at night and your heart starts moving before your mind has caught up. There is a photograph, a vehicle, a person who swears they saw him, or a detail that seems to fit something you read weeks earlier. You call somebody. Another person wakes up. Laptops open. Maps come back onto screens. For an hour, perhaps longer, the whole case feels alive in a new way.
Then you locate the original photograph and discover that it is old. The timestamp is wrong. The vehicle is a different model. The supposed witnesses all heard the story from the same person. What looked like five confirmations becomes one unverified statement passed around until nobody remembers where it began.
Nobody celebrates when that happens. You make the note, close the lead and sit there for a minute before opening the next one.
That was the roller coaster. Hope never arrived gently. It came crashing through the door, made everybody believe the night might end differently, and sometimes disappeared before sunrise.
There were periods when we honestly felt close to something. There were also days when the archive grew by hundreds of files and we understood Sebastian’s disappearance no better than we had the day before. That is difficult to explain to anyone who has never worked inside a case like this. A person can spend an entire day doing careful, necessary work and finish with nothing except proof that one more possibility did not happen.
The public usually saw the arguments, interviews and personalities surrounding the case. Our view was less dramatic. It was folders full of photographs with no dates, video clips missing the minutes around them, tips that had traveled through several people, maps covered in places someone believed had been searched, and thousands upon thousands of messages written by people who ranged from deeply sincere to completely detached from reality.
Behind those files were real people trying to make sense of them. People lost sleep. Families had their evenings interrupted. Food sat untouched beside computers. Somebody would notice one strange word in an old message and send everyone back through material they thought they had finished months earlier.
The work changed people. We became more cautious, sometimes more cynical than we wanted to be, and then something genuinely promising would arrive and all of that hope came rushing back anyway. You need hope to continue opening the files. You also need enough discipline to admit when the thing you hoped for is not there.
We did not always handle that pressure perfectly. There were bad days. Frustration got into conversations. People defended work they had poured themselves into. Opinions changed as new information arrived. Things that once seemed important became less important; material initially dismissed sometimes deserved another look.
That belongs in the story too.
AtNight’s account of this case should not read as though we floated above it, calm and correct at every turn. We were in it. We made decisions with the information available at the time. We dealt with the same noise, urgency and emotion that affected everyone else. Any honest review has to be willing to look at us with the same seriousness that it applies to every other person and institution discussed in the record.
What stayed constant was Sebastian.
Attention East Coast
We are currently looking for Aaron East
Jacksonville Florida
We have another location, it's been forwarded for follow-up.
If you see him, call ASAP
Molested a little girl.
🚨 WANTED: AARON KYLE EAST 🚨
Aaron Kyle East is currently wanted and may be traveling with a Florida driver’s license. He could be anywhere.
@__0HOUR1_ is helping us with locating this creep!! 🤙🏾
⚠️ CONSIDERED DANGEROUS ⚠️
Do NOT approach or attempt to detain him. Contact our team immediately with credible information.
📞 Tip Line: 808-354-3034
📧 [email protected]
A substantial cash reward is available for information leading to his location and arrest.
🔒 All legitimate tips remain confidential.
❗️PLEASE NOTE:
This line is reserved exclusively for legitimate fugitive tips. Anyone prank calling, spam calling, or intentionally disrupting investigations will be blocked immediately.
For business inquiries or matters unrelated to this case, contact:
📧 [email protected]
Your information could make the difference. Help us bring him in safely.
CHRISTOPHER PROUDFOOT SAYS SEBASTIAN HAS NO FRIEND'S THAT
SEBASTIAN WANTED FRIENDS FOR CHRISTMAS
HE HAS MILLIONS OF FRIENDS AROUND THE WORLD,
SEBASTIAN IS VERY MUCH LOVED AND MISSED BY HIS DAD SETH R ROGERS.
Do you have any information about SEBASTIAN ❓
Tell Dog 📞
@DogBountyHunter
Don't be afraid,
COME FORWARD ⏩
WHERE IS SEBASTIAN ❓🧩
CELEBRATING THE LIFE OF TONY L. MATHIS •• REST IN PEACE, BROTHER.
~
It is hard for me to believe that this is how it ends. I always knew that one day our effort would near its end, that the daily calls would slow down, that life would eventually pull us in different directions. I knew the rhythm we had would not last forever. But I never thought it would end like this.
Before I say anything else, I want to ask people to give Tony’s family privacy. Please let them grieve in peace. Let them have quiet. Let them have dignity. Let them cry, pray, remember, and hold each other without the noise of speculation or intrusion. Some losses are too personal for the public to crowd. This is one of them.
There were days on this search where I felt so alone that I was not sure how much more I had left in me. Days when the pressure, the hatred, the division, and everything going through my mind made the world feel smaller and darker than it had any right to be. And in those moments, I thought about Tony.
More than anyone I have ever known, Tony had made peace with the fact that death comes for us all. He taught me that death is inevitable. And because it is inevitable, it loses the power to define what matters. What matters are the things that are not inevitable. The things we choose. The things we create. The people we love. The roads we take when everything in life seems to be pushing us the other way.
That is what Tony taught me.
Above all else, I loved him for his remarkable refusal to go quietly into that good night. I once shared with him the line, “Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” It reminded me of him then. It reminds me of him now more than ever.
Because if you really think about a man like Tony, what stands out most is this: in a world where he had every reason to give up, he chose not to. A dozen times over, he could have walked away. He could have closed the door, protected his peace, and left the burden to someone else. But he did not. For reasons only a man like Tony can fully explain, he chose to rage.
Not rage for the sake of anger.
Rage against darkness.
Rage against apathy.
Rage against cruelty.
Rage against the forces that wear good people down and try to make them quiet.
Rage to protect the people he loved.
Rage to defend a missing child from being forgotten.
And somehow, even knowing how much darkness there was, he still found room for life. For humor. For joy. For peace. For family. For love.
That may be the most deeply moving mark a man can leave behind. To know how this story ends for all of us, and still choose to live passionately anyway. To know the light is fading, and still spend your life protecting it. That is who Tony was. That is the lesson at the center of my time with him.
I had the honor of meeting Tony first virtually, and then in person. It started back in September 2024 when my team brought a missing child’s poster to my desk again and again. I kept saying no. Not because I did not care, but because in our work, when we step into something, we do not leave until the mission is complete. We do not accept obstacles. We go through them, around them, over them, or under them. Success is the only acceptable outcome. I told the team that if we went through with this, it could change our lives.
Looking back, Tony gave us better warnings than anyone could have.
He understood the terrain before we ever stepped onto it.
Hatred. Division. Smear campaigns. Lies. Evil. Love nowhere to be found. Unity evaporating. Common sense becoming uncommon. Civility becoming uncivilized. Humanity becoming inhumane.
Tony told us it was a dangerous search. We laughed it off. Dog and I had already been through hell and back chasing fugitives and dealing with violent people and their extended crime families, so nothing seemed too hard for us. We thought we knew what hard looked like. Tony knew this was different.
And he was right.
Mr Eslami stated he intended on “shooting” police officers.
“..the best response to police is simply saying ‘I’m a member of ISIS.’”
And some of MAGA is befriending this idiot? You idiots. LOL 🍿