It was a literal hole in the wall. You had to climb a set of stairs in South Campus Gateway to find it, but once you were inside, the smell of cheap beer and the sound of mid-2000s bangers hit you like a freight train. Ugly Tuna Saloona Columbus Ohio wasn't just a bar; it was an institution for Ohio State students. If you went to OSU between 2004 and 2018, you probably have at least one blurry memory involving an Ugly Hour pitcher.
Or maybe you know it for the reason that keeps it in the national headlines to this day.
Brian Shaffer.
When people search for this bar now, they aren't usually looking for drink specials. They’re looking for a ghost. On April 1, 2006, a 27-year-old medical student walked into the bar with his friends. Security footage showed him entering. It never showed him leaving. To this day, the "Ugly Tuna Mystery" remains one of the most baffling cold cases in American history. It changed the vibe of the bar forever. It turned a place of celebration into a site of pilgrimage for true crime sleuths.
The Rise and Fall of the Gateway Legend
The Ugly Tuna Saloona opened back when the South Campus Gateway was the "new" thing. It was supposed to revitalize the area south of 15th Avenue. It worked. For years, the Tuna was the undisputed king of Thursday nights. They had this thing called "Ugly Hour." It was legendary. You could get pitchers for next to nothing, and the floor was permanently sticky. It was gross. It was perfect.
But things changed.
The original location closed its doors in 2018. It felt like the end of an era. The developers wanted something different for the Gateway, and the lease wasn't renewed. People were devastated. But then, a glimmer of hope appeared. The bar rebranded as Ugly Tuna 2 and moved further north to Chittenden and High. It tried to capture that same lightning in a bottle. It had the same fish-shaped signs. It had the same blue lighting.
📖 Related: Finding the Right Words: Quotes About Sons That Actually Mean Something
It just wasn't the same.
The move was a gamble. The new spot was smaller, and the landscape of High Street was changing fast. The gritty, dive-bar energy of the early 2000s was being replaced by polished cocktail lounges and expensive apartments. By the time 2023 rolled around, the second iteration of the Tuna called it quits too. The "Ugly" era of Columbus nightlife officially went dark.
The Brian Shaffer Mystery: Why We Still Talk About the Tuna
You can't discuss Ugly Tuna Saloona Columbus Ohio without talking about the night everything went wrong. Brian Shaffer was a bright medical student at Ohio State. He was out celebrating the start of spring break.
The facts are hauntingly simple:
- Brian entered the bar at approximately 1:15 AM.
- He was seen on CCTV footage talking to two women outside the entrance.
- He appeared to re-enter the bar.
- He was never seen again.
The Columbus Division of Police went through that footage frame by frame. They accounted for every single person who left that night. Except Brian. There was no other public exit. There was a construction exit, but it was considered nearly impossible to navigate while intoxicated without being spotted.
Theories? They're everywhere. Some people think he left with the band. Others think he was a victim of the "Smiley Face Killer" theory, though detectives have largely debunked that. Some even suggest he chose to disappear, walking out of his life to start over. But his family and friends never bought that. His father, Randy Shaffer, spent the rest of his life looking for his son before tragically passing away in a freak accident in 2008.
👉 See also: Williams Sonoma Deer Park IL: What Most People Get Wrong About This Kitchen Icon
The bar became a landmark for tragedy. Even when the music was blasting and people were dancing on the tables, that security camera near the escalator was always there. It was a reminder that someone went in and stayed in. Forever.
The Real Impact on Campus Culture
The Tuna wasn't just about the mystery, though. It represented a specific time in Columbus history. Before the Short North became a high-end arts district, and before campus was filled with Target Expresses and high-rise dorms, High Street was a bit more wild.
The Tuna was the bridge between the old-school campus bars and the new-scale development. It had a specific brand of chaos. You’d see professors grabbing a beer next to seniors who had just finished their last final. It was democratic in its grubbiness. Honestly, that’s what made it great.
When the original location closed, a part of the OSU identity died with it. Today, the space where the Tuna once stood is just another part of the corporate campus machine. The stairs that Brian Shaffer climbed are still there, but the neon fish is gone.
Why Dive Bars Like the Tuna are Vanishing
What happened to Ugly Tuna Saloona Columbus Ohio is happening everywhere in the Midwest. Gentrification is a sterile word for a messy process. In Columbus, the "Gateway Project" was the beginning of the end for the dive bar scene.
Real estate prices on High Street skyrocketed. Local legends like Too’s Spirits Under High (the basement bar where you’d get "Panty Droppers") and The O Patio fell one by one. The Tuna lasted longer than most because it had such a loyal following, but eventually, the economics just didn't work.
✨ Don't miss: Finding the most affordable way to live when everything feels too expensive
A bar that sells $2 beers can't pay $40-per-square-foot rent. It’s basic math. It sucks, but it’s the truth.
The Tuna tried to adapt. They added food menus. They tried to modernize. But the "Ugly" was the point. When you try to make a dive bar clean and corporate, it loses its soul. That’s probably why Ugly Tuna 2 didn't have the staying power of the original. You can’t manufacture "grime" in a brand-new building.
What to Remember If You’re Visiting Columbus Today
If you're in town looking for the Ugly Tuna Saloona Columbus Ohio experience, you’re about six years too late for the original and a couple of years late for the sequel. But the ghost of the bar still lingers.
If you walk through the South Campus Gateway today, you can still feel the layout. You can stand where the cameras were. You can look at the construction areas where Brian might have slipped through. For true crime tourists, it’s a somber visit. For alumni, it’s a nostalgic one.
There are still a few places left that capture that old High Street energy, though they are fewer and further between.
- Old North Arcade: It’s further north, but it has that "everyone is welcome" chaotic energy.
- Out-R-Inn: The last true bastion of old-school OSU bar culture. If you want a sticky floor and a history that dates back decades, this is your spot.
- The Library: Tiny, dark, and wonderful. It feels like the Tuna’s weird little brother.
Actionable Insights for the Curious
If you are researching the bar or the Shaffer case, here is how you can actually engage with the history responsibly:
- Visit the Site: The South Campus Gateway is located at 1546 N High St. The former Ugly Tuna space has been repurposed, but the outdoor plaza is where the famous footage was captured.
- Support Local Cold Case Initiatives: The Brian Shaffer case is still technically open. Groups like Central Ohio Crime Stoppers take anonymous tips. If you're into the mystery, focus your energy on supporting organizations that keep these cases in the public eye rather than just consuming "tragedy porn."
- Find the Alumni Groups: There are several Facebook groups dedicated to "Old School OSU" where people share photos of the Tuna from the early 2000s. It’s the best way to see what the interior actually looked like during its heyday.
- Explore the "New" Campus: Understand that Columbus is a city in flux. While the loss of the Tuna is sad for some, the city has a massive variety of new spots in the Short North and University District that are defining the next generation of memories.
The story of the Ugly Tuna is a story of a city growing up. It’s a story of a mystery that might never be solved. Most of all, it’s a reminder that nothing—not even a bar with a giant neon fish and the cheapest beer in town—lasts forever. The legends stay. The buildings change.
If you’re looking for a drink, head to Out-R-Inn and pour one out for the Tuna. It’s what Brian or any other Tuna regular would have done. The era of the Saloona is over, but the stories people tell about those nights on the second floor of the Gateway? Those aren't going anywhere.