SANTA FE, N.M. — One year after the tragic deaths of Hollywood icon Gene Hackman and his wife Betsy Arakawa, the quiet New Mexico community they called home is still reflecting on the profound loss and the unexpected media frenzy that followed. On Feb. 26, 2025, Santa Fe County Sheriff’s deputies responded to a call at the couple’s residence on Old Sunset Trail around 1:45 p.m., where they discovered Hackman, 95, Arakawa, 64, and one of their dogs deceased inside the home. The incident thrust the normally serene town into the national spotlight, with former Santa Fe Fire Chief Brian Moya recalling the overwhelming response in an interview with Fox News Digital.
Moya, who has since retired from his position, described the initial emergency call as a moment etched in his memory. Driving home from work, he received a heads-up from his assistant chief about the situation involving the renowned actor. “Well, personally, I remember the call today, I was driving home from work and I got the call from my assistant chief letting me know about the situation that happened. And I thought I had a little more time than 48 hours,” Moya said, referring to the rapid escalation of events. By 5 a.m. the next morning, his phone was inundated with 35 texts and 40 calls from contacts, marking the start of what he called “the fastest three weeks of my life to date, professionally, just dealing with the media.”
The deaths were initially deemed suspicious, with reports noting signs of mummification on the bodies, according to authorities at the time. However, on March 7, 2025, the New Mexico Department of Health clarified the causes: Hackman succumbed to hypertensive atherosclerosis cardiovascular disease, with Alzheimer’s disease as a contributing factor. Arakawa’s death was attributed to hantavirus pulmonary syndrome, a rare illness transmitted by rodents. These revelations came amid intense scrutiny, as the couple had been married for more than 30 years and were well-integrated into Santa Fe life since Hackman relocated there in the 1980s.
Hackman, a two-time Academy Award winner for his roles in 1971’s “The French Connection” and 1992’s “Unforgiven,” had retired from acting in 2008, seeking a peaceful existence away from Hollywood’s glare. Friends and locals portrayed Arakawa as fiercely protective of her husband, especially in his later years as health challenges mounted. The pair was last photographed publicly together on March 28, 2024, outside Pappadeaux Seafood Kitchen, with Hackman leaning on a walking cane and holding his wife’s arm for support.
For first responders like Moya, the celebrity status of the individuals involved did not alter their protocol. “We handle it like everybody else, and we treat everybody the same. I think that's what people don't understand, is that it's a call to us. We don't go into who this person is. We just handle the call and move on… We're professionals, just like any other profession, and we stay professional throughout the call, whoever that person is, we're helping that day,” Moya emphasized. He credited rigorous training and privacy protocols for enabling the team to maintain composure amid the chaos.
The media attention was unprecedented for Santa Fe’s emergency services. Moya admitted he underestimated the story’s magnitude at first. “I didn't realize how big the story was going to be. I think when I first got the call, it was not that big of a deal. And then looking back a year later, two press releases with 50 cameras, I never would have thought it was that big of a coverage … Just continuous news coverage was a very unique situation for me,” he reflected. The national coverage highlighted not just Hackman’s storied career—spanning iconic films like “Superman”—but also the personal side of the couple known to locals.
In the tight-knit community, Hackman and Arakawa were remembered for their humility and kindness. Kathleen O'Brien, owner of Harry’s Roadhouse, a restaurant the couple frequented, shared her bittersweet sentiments. “It's very sentimental, and it's bittersweet. We had no idea what was going on, and we were caught off guard. We thought we would have our treasure for a very long time,” O'Brien said. She described Hackman as “such a responsible gentleman who was so kind to our crews,” noting he never uttered a harsh word and was always gracious, as was his wife.
The couple often held business meetings at the restaurant, where Hackman would work on his books for an hour or two on the patio. O'Brien recalled their weekly visits, underscoring how embedded they were in daily Santa Fe life. Friends echoed this view, saying Arakawa helped Hackman find peace in retirement, shielding him from the pressures of his past fame. “Gene Hackman's 'protective' wife helped actor find peace away from Hollywood during final days, friends say,” one report noted, capturing the couple’s devoted partnership.
The discovery of the bodies, including their dog, added an emotional layer to the tragedy. While official reports confirmed natural causes, the initial suspicious circumstances fueled speculation and extensive coverage. Moya highlighted the challenges of balancing public interest with respect for privacy. “I think our training comes a lot into it. We have to treat everybody the same. We have a lot of rules behind protecting people's personal information. And I think it's just training and professionalism of the fire departments nationwide on how we handle situations like that,” he explained.
Looking back a year later, the event remains a poignant chapter for Santa Fe. The community, which had grown accustomed to spotting the couple around town, grappled with the sudden void. Hackman’s legacy as a Hollywood treasure contrasted with his low-key local presence, where he was simply a polite regular at eateries and a neighbor on Old Sunset Trail. The media storm, while intense, also brought attention to the town’s first responders, who managed the situation with poise.
As the anniversary approaches, reflections from those close to the couple continue to surface. A friend detailed the “trauma” of the discovery in interviews, underscoring the personal toll. O'Brien’s recollections paint a picture of normalcy interrupted, with the restaurant’s portal becoming a symbol of Hackman’s grounded final years. The New Mexico Department of Health’s findings provided closure, but the emotional impact lingers.
Beyond the immediate events, Hackman’s death prompted tributes to his career, from gritty cop roles to Western antiheroes. His choice of Santa Fe over Tinseltown highlighted a deliberate retreat, facilitated by Arakawa’s support. The hantavirus diagnosis for her raised awareness of the rare disease, though officials reported no broader outbreak linked to the case.
For Moya and his team, the experience was a professional milestone. The “shocking first call” evolved into a lesson in handling high-profile emergencies. As Santa Fe moves forward, the memory of Hackman and Arakawa endures as one of quiet dignity amid extraordinary circumstances. Community members like O'Brien express hope that their story inspires appreciation for life’s simpler moments, far from the cameras that once defined Hackman’s world.
The broader implications touch on how small towns navigate fame’s aftermath. Santa Fe’s experience with the media blitz could inform future responses, emphasizing the need for robust protocols. While the official causes closed the medical chapter, the human story—of love, retirement, and unforeseen loss—resonates deeply. Friends and locals agree: Hackman and Arakawa left an indelible mark, not as stars, but as cherished residents.