On March 31, 2006, Brian Shaffer, a second-year medical student at Ohio State University, went out to celebrate the start of spring break. He had just wrapped up a week of exams and long study nights. The plan was to unwind with friends, have a few drinks, and enjoy the break ahead.
By 2 a.m., he was gone.
Surveillance footage captured him walking into the Ugly Tuna Saloona, a bar near campus. It never captured him walking out. He left no note, gave no warning, and took nothing with him. Nineteen years later, Brian remains missing, and the mystery remains unsolved.
Earlier that day, Brian had dinner with his father, Randy Shaffer, at a local steakhouse. It had become a comforting ritual in recent weeks. His mother, Renee, had passed away from cancer only three weeks earlier, and both men were still grieving.
Despite his exhaustion, Brian wanted to go out that night. He had just completed several all-nighters studying for exams. He had plans to fly to Florida in a few days with his girlfriend, Alexis Waggoner. Some friends believed he was planning to propose.
After dinner, he joined his friend Clint Florence to go bar hopping. They started at the Ugly Tuna Saloona and made their way through a series of bars around Columbus. At around 10 p.m., he called Alexis, who was visiting family out of town. They spoke briefly. He told her he loved her and that he was looking forward to their trip.
They never spoke again.
Inside the Disappearance
At around 1:15 a.m., Clint and Brian were back at the Ugly Tuna. They were joined by Clint’s friend Meredith Reed, who offered to drive them. The three were seen arriving together on the bar’s security footage. Brian appeared relaxed. According to his brother Derek, there was nothing unusual in his demeanor.
He mingled inside, had drinks, and was later spotted speaking with two women just outside the bar. Around 1:55 a.m., he turned back toward the entrance and walked inside.
That was the final image ever captured of him.
At 2 a.m., the bar closed. Meredith and Clint looked for Brian but could not find him. They called his phone. No answer. Assuming he had gone home on his own, they left. Alexis called the next day and got voicemail. She thought he was probably resting. By Sunday, when he still had not returned any calls, she reached out to his father.
Randy went to Brian’s apartment. Everything looked untouched. His car was parked. His bed was made. His medical textbooks were neatly stacked. There was no sign of forced entry, no unusual items missing. Nothing suggested he had left with a plan.
He simply was not there.
Brian was officially declared missing after he failed to show up at the airport for the Florida trip with Alexis. She had expected to meet him at the terminal. He never arrived.
Who Brian Was
Brian Shaffer was born in 1979 and raised in a suburb near Columbus, Ohio. He was the eldest of two sons. He graduated high school in the late 1990s and completed a degree in microbiology from Ohio State. In 2003, he entered OSU’s College of Medicine.
By 2006, he had already completed the White Coat Ceremony and was on his way to becoming a doctor. Friends described him as charismatic, warm, and funny. According to Lori Davis, a missing persons advocate who spoke to NBC Ohio, Brian was known for his sense of humor and his ability to connect with people easily. She also said he could be stubborn, but never in a way that suggested recklessness.
Although he was committed to medicine, Brian had other dreams. He loved music, played guitar, and was obsessed with Pearl Jam. He often told friends he wanted to start a band. According to Sgt. John Hurst, who worked the case for years, Brian had even spent extended time in Puerto Rico. He fantasized about a more relaxed life, away from hospitals and classrooms.
His second year in medical school had been difficult. Renee, his mother, was diagnosed with myelodysplasia, a rare and aggressive form of cancer. Brian was close to her. Her death affected him deeply. But according to friends and police, he was not experiencing depression. He was focused on exams and seemed excited about his upcoming vacation.
He had called Alexis the night he vanished. His message was affectionate and upbeat. There was no indication of fear or distress.
What the Cameras Showed
Columbus police launched an investigation immediately. They reviewed hours of security footage from the Ugly Tuna Saloona. They saw Brian entering the bar twice—once with his friends around 1:15 a.m., and again after stepping outside briefly to talk to two women.
But they never saw him leave.
The bar had cameras covering every public exit. The only blind spot was near a service area connected to a construction zone. Investigators considered that Brian might have exited there. But the area was difficult to navigate, especially for someone who had been drinking. Cadaver dogs were sent in. They picked up no scent.
Nearby bars also had surveillance systems. None of them showed Brian.
Police interviewed more than 100 people. That included the women he spoke to outside the bar, staff, patrons, and even the band that played that night. No one remembered seeing anything unusual. No one recalled seeing him leave. His phone, credit card, and bank accounts were never used again.
His digital footprint ended at the bar.
Theories and Dead Ends
Early in the investigation, Alexis and her friends created and distributed missing posters. They searched every dumpster, alley, and riverside near campus. Alexis told The Columbus Dispatch in 2016 that she was terrified and heartbroken. She had called Brian’s phone every night for months. It always went to voicemail.
Then, one night, it rang.
It did not connect, but it pinged off a cell tower in Hilliard, a nearby town. Investigators contacted the phone company. They were told the signal was most likely a glitch. Still, for Alexis, it felt like a flicker of hope. She kept calling, but the phone never rang again.
In 2008, another disturbing moment occurred. Brian’s father, Randy, died in a freak accident while cleaning up debris in his yard. A tree branch struck and killed him. In the days after his death, a comment appeared on his online obituary.
It read: “Dad, I love you. Love, Brian (U.S. Virgin Islands).”
Police traced the message to a public computer in Ohio. It was quickly dismissed as a hoax.
Another theory emerged online. Some speculated Brian had been targeted by a suspected serial killer. The Smiley Face Killer theory suggested that a network of individuals had been targeting young men who had been drinking in bars, primarily in the Midwest. The theory remains unproven, and police never found any evidence connecting Brian’s case to it.
Years passed. Leads dried up. In 2021, the Ohio Bureau of Criminal Investigation released an age-progressed image of what Brian might look like today. It received media coverage but produced no results.
Family and Silence
Alexis eventually moved on. She stopped giving interviews. Brian’s younger brother, Derek, was the last close relative to speak publicly. In a 2016 interview, he said he believed his brother would not have vanished by choice.
“He was going to be a doctor. He had goals. He wasn’t involved in anything shady,” Derek said. “He wouldn’t have done this to us.”
He also believed that Clint Florence may have known more than he shared. Clint was the last known person to spend extended time with Brian that night. He cooperated early in the investigation but later retained an attorney and refused further interviews.
“I didn’t know him well,” Derek said. “But the way he spoke about Brian after he disappeared was cold. If he knows something, I hope he says it. I deserve to know.”
Clint’s attorney issued a statement in 2008. It was directed to private investigator Don Corbett, who was working the case. The statement read: “If Brian is alive, which is what I’m led to believe after speaking with the detective involved, then it is Brian, and not Clint, who is causing his family pain.”
Since then, Clint has remained silent.
Retired Sgt. Hurst later discussed his views on the case. He did not believe it was suicide. Most people, he said, leave notes or choose places where they will be found. He did not believe Brian had been abducted either. There was no sign of struggle. No evidence of coercion.
That left one possibility.
“Could he have walked away?” Hurst asked. “Yes. He had pressure. He had loss. He may have just said, ‘I’m out.’ I’ve had people ask if he could have amnesia. That’s possible too.”
In his final comments on the case, Hurst said he believed Brian could still be alive.
Nineteen Years Later
As of 2025, there have been no major developments in the case. Brian Shaffer remains one of the most baffling missing persons cases in the country. There is no crime scene, no confirmed sighting, no final clue.
Just silence.
His disappearance is still open with Columbus Police. Occasionally, tips come in. None have led anywhere.
And the footage remains. A man walking into a bar, smiling, looking relaxed. Then gone. No one saw him leave. No one has seen him since.
Whatever happened in those missing minutes has never been explained.
