Christina Downer, SNL Writer Jimmy Fowlie’s Sister, Disappeared Without a Trace
SNL Writer Jimmy Fowlie’s Sister Disappeared Without a Trace
The Disappearance of Christina Downer: A City Searches for One of Its Own
The neon of Koreatown has always swallowed stories—some in a single night, others more slowly. In the early-morning hours of 15 December 2025, it appears to have swallowed Christina Lynn Downer without a trace. Thirty-eight years old, barely five-foot-three, and rarely seen without her miniature pinscher Rex trotting beside her, Downer has not answered a text, tapped a like, or opened her apartment door in two weeks. To family and friends, the silence is deafening—and completely out of character.
“She’s never gone off the grid like this,” her younger brother, Saturday Night Live writer-comedian Jimmy Fowlie, told followers in an emotional Instagram post that has since been re-shared by half of Hollywood. “This is not like her.”
Last Known Movements
According to the Los Angeles Police Department’s Missing-Persons Unit (case #25-237639), Downer was last physically seen in the vicinity of 6th & Alexandria, the heart of Koreatown’s late-night barbecue-and-karaoke corridor. A smattering of security cameras captured a woman matching her description walking a small rust-colored dog shortly after 1:00 a.m., but the footage ends at Wilshire Place. From that moment forward, Christina—along with Rex—seems to have stepped out of the frame entirely.
She had told no one she was going anywhere. Her 2016 silver Honda CR-V remains parked on her lease-restricted spot behind the Normandie Avenue four-plex she has called home since her divorce two years ago. Inside the unit, her phone charger, wallet, and prescription migraine medication were found untouched. Even the bowl of kibble for Rex sat half-full—an ominous detail for a woman acquaintances describe as “the kind of pet parent who alphabetizes treat ingredients.”
Digital Footprint Goes Dark
Detectives have traced her final online activity to 11:42 p.m. on 14 December, when she heart-reacted to a Facebook meme posted by a college roommate. The next morning her WhatsApp, iMessage, Instagram, and even her Starbucks-rewards account simultaneously flat-lined.
LAPD’s cyber-forensics lab confirms her last cellular handshake came from a tower at New Hampshire and 3rd—four blocks from where the surveillance video ends. After that: nothing.
A Family’s Public Plea
Jimmy Fowlie, 34, has spent the past week toggling between writers’-room deadlines and marathon search shifts. “Christina is my only sister,” he said in a phone interview. “Our mom passed in 2019; Dad’s in a memory-care facility. It’s always been the two of us tag-teaming life. For her to vanish without so much as a ‘BRB’? Impossible.”
Fowlie’s celebrity circle—Kenan Thompson, Chloe Fineman, D’Arcy Carden, Hannah Einbinder among them—has papered social feeds with the official missing-person flyer: a smiling brunette with blunt bangs, a teal hoodie, and Rex perched in her lap like a gargoyle in a sweater. The comic has also organized volunteer print-runs; by Sunday, 5,000 door-hanger copies will have circulated from MacArthur Park to Larchmont.
“Look, I get it—people go missing in L.A. every day,” Fowlie conceded. “But Christina isn’t transient, isn’t battling addiction, isn’t in a volatile relationship. She had a standing Tuesday Zoom with her book club. She sends birthday GIFs at 12:01 a.m. She schedules dentist appointments six months out. Something happened to her.”
The Koreatown Connection
Koreatown after midnight is equal parts neon playground and open-air chessboard: rideshare drivers, third-shift kitchen crews, club promotors, and the occasional parolee weave past office workers pulling 14-hour days. Violent crime has dipped 11% year-over-year, yet the labyrinth of mini-malls, basement bars, and 24-hour spas still offers plenty of shadowed alcoves where a five-foot-three woman could disappear.
LAPD’s Olympic Division says it has reviewed footage from 22 businesses; only four cameras were angled toward the street. None picked up Downer after the 1:00 a.m. sighting. Detectives have also interviewed employees at The Bun Shop, Bohemian Beer Garden, and Normandie Casino—venues she frequented—but report no leads.
Theories & Rumors
Online sleuths have already filled the vacuum with speculation:
Voluntary disappearance: Could Christina have engineered her own exit to escape an undisclosed trauma? Friends push back hard: “She was planning our Secret Santa exchange,” says coworker Maya Delgado. “She already bought the gifts.”
Domestic angle: Downer divorced Michael Downer, a Bay Area tech recruiter, in 2023; records show the split was amicable, with no restraining orders. He has since remarried and, according to police, has an iron-clad alibi—he was in Cabo San Lucas the week Christina vanished.
Human-trafficking abduction: LAPD’s Human Trafficking Division is monitoring the case but says adults over 35 are statistically low-risk victims.
Mental-health crisis: Christina had a brief bout of post-partum depression in 2016, but no recent diagnosis. Her therapist, contacted with family permission, confirms she last attended a session on 3 December and showed “no suicidal ideation.”
Random street violence: The most chilling scenario—and the one investigators privately lean toward. “We’ve seen predators target petite women walking small dogs; the animal becomes a prop to stop them,” one detective said, referencing the 2022 kidnapping of 29-year-old Brianna Kupfer less than two miles away.
Rex: The Silent Witness
If Christina’s trail is thin, Rex’s is thinner. The seven-year-old miniature pinscher—13 pounds, docked tail, red sweater—has not turned up at any shelter, vet clinic, or Craigslist “found dog” post. “That’s the part that keeps me up,” Fowlie admits. “Rex barks at his own shadow. If someone grabbed Christina, that dog would have gone ballistic. Yet no one’s reported a loose, yappy dog. Which means…he’s with her. Or whoever has her has him too.”
The Hunt Intensifies
As of 28 December, LAPD has assigned two additional detectives to the case, bringing the full-time head-count to six. Search-and-rescue volunteers have scoured nearby Hancock Park, Lafayette Recreation Center, and even the concrete-washed L.A. River bed. A $50,000 reward—crowd-funded by Fowlie’s comedy cohorts—now tops the flyer.
Helicopter thermal imaging earlier this week picked up a small heat signature beneath an overgrown ficus on Mariposa Avenue, but responding officers found only a discarded shopping cart and a pile of blankets. “We’re chasing ghosts,” one sergeant muttered, “but ghosts leave trails if you know how to look.”
What Happens Next
Detectives have asked anyone who was in Koreatown between 12:30 a.m. and 2:00 a.m. on 15 December to upload cell-phone video or dash-cam footage to a dedicated portal: findchristinaLAPD.org. They are also seeking rideshare receipts; Christina’s Uber account shows no trips that night, but police believe she may have accepted an off-app ride or simply walked.
Meanwhile, her brother continues to hand out flyers at 3 a.m. to club stragglers. “I keep thinking maybe she hit her head, has amnesia, is wandering somewhere,” he said, voice cracking. “Or maybe she witnessed something and had to run. I just need her to know: no questions asked, just come home.”
How to Help
Christina Lynn Downer is 38, 5’3”, 125 lbs, with brown hair often worn in a shoulder-length shag. She has a small scar on her left eyebrow and a tattoo of a paper airplane behind her right ear. She was last seen wearing a faded UCLA hoodie, black Lululemon leggings, and white Vans. Her miniature pinscher Rex has pointy ears, a cinnamon coat, and may be wearing a green cable-knit sweater.
If you have ANY information—no matter how trivial—contact:
LAPD Missing-Persons Unit: 213-996-1800 (case #25-237639)
After-hours tip line: 877-LAPD-24-7
Email (family monitored): findchristinaLA@gmail.com
Anonymous tips are welcome. You can also upload photos/video directly at findchristinaLAPD.org.
Final Word
In a city that churns out headlines faster than studio green-lights, Christina Downer’s story has cut through the noise precisely because it lacks spectacle: no torrid affair, no ransom demand, no cryptic voicemail—just an ordinary woman walking an ordinary dog on an ordinary night, swallowed by an intersection of concrete and unanswered questions. Until someone steps forward with the missing puzzle piece, her family—and all of Los Angeles—will keep scanning every face in every Koreatown crowd, hoping the next petite brunette with a tiny dog turns out to be the one who simply vanished.
If you know anything, say something. Christina and Rex are still out there somewhere. Let’s bring them home.