The Disappearance of Tom Vrab

What really happened to the comedian?

If you remember Vine, the video platform which allowed users to upload six-second clips and had significant cultural influence between the years of about 2012 and 2014, you likely remember Tom Vrab.

Tom was known for his goofy, absurdist, often surrealist bits which quickly made him one of the most followed comedians on Vine, which at the time made him a minor celebrity, and, maybe more importantly to him, someone who was seen in many Hollywood circles as quickly climbing the ranks.

Tom Vrab, circa 2010.

Tom was, or is, I should say, I think he is, from Orange County, California, now in his late thirties, but I don’t know for certain, I haven’t spoken to him in over ten years, and neither have many of his formerly close friends.

I wouldn’t put myself in that category. I ran into him here and there, he’d even been to my house once or twice, maybe stopping into a barbecue, meeting up with a buddy we had in common.

I had seen him performing stand-up a handful of times. I saw a charismatic, talented guy. I liked him, he seemed effortlessly cool while remaining offbeat.

The word friend is tough to define. Especially in Los Angeles. I don’t know if Tom was a friend, sometimes the feeling isn’t mutual. He was just one of those people I had a natural chemistry with and enjoyed talking to whenever I bumped into him, that was the extent of things between us.

Given the relationship, or lack thereof, it’s not surprising that I didn’t notice when a few years of my life had passed by without his name popping up, when one day a friend of mine, echoing what was becoming a common sentiment on the internet, said, out of nowhere, “Whatever happened to Tom Vrab?”

“I don’t know,” I said, “oh my God, dude, look at this.”

I pulled up his Twitter account, where I found a rather disturbing (and since deleted) chain of tweets, where presumably Tom, if not someone who had access to his account, had written an often-mispunctuated variation of the phrases “Help me,” and “Pray for me,” dozens of times, with nothing else in between.

Tom’s Twitter account, now set to private.

This was in June of 2016, roughly three years since me, the internet, or apparently anyone besides his girlfriend had last heard anything from him.

I sent him a DM, and he responded that he had been having some issues for the past several years, which I will not elaborate on out of an abundance of respect, because the message closed by asking me to keep the content “veryprivate [sic].”

At this point I dropped it, figuring he’d had some kind of nervous breakdown, even though I was aware that isn’t something that exists in such simple of terms, that the concept is essentially an urban legend along the lines of spontaneous combustion.

I was aware of certain mental and physical conditions which can cause someone to become “locked in” as they call it, meaning being mentally cognizant while unable or barely able to move one’s body, which Tom’s extremely ominous tweets seemed to hint at, as though he were pecking them out with a pencil between his teeth.

“H.elp. me.”

This scenario wasn’t especially likely for anyone, but Tom had been mentally sharp, observant, present, and a wiry, healthy six-foot-two-inch guy a ton of energy, short of a car accident or some other severe trauma his sudden physical and/or mental deterioration didn’t make any sense, definitely not so abruptly, but usually when someone is in a car accident, it’s not kept a secret.

But I dropped it. I dropped it because I figured that Tom had family and better friends than myself, actual friends, and that it was none of my business.

I’d also exchanged a few Facebook messages with his girlfriend, Jenna Szabo, whom I had never met, and she urged me to respect Tom’s privacy, a phrase she was increasingly using on social media to dismiss anyone trying to figure out what was going on.

Jenna S.

Jenna S. on Instagram: “Happy #nationalmuttday2015 We have no idea what Edie’s breed is. Probably a little terrier and a dash of bichon frise mixed with a whole lotta LOVE ❤️”

July 3, 2019

So, even though I had an uneasy feeling about the situation, such as that he may be trapped in a dungeon somewhere, I let it go, although I’d still google his name every now and then, hoping for some news.

I wasn’t doing deep-dives, but sometimes late at night the issue would gnaw at me, and I’d quickly check his accounts, hoping to see a semblance of normalcy, a complete sentence maybe, and then I’d force myself to sleep and against going down a Zodiak-style rabbit hole.

Somehow, probably because Jenna had blocked me on Facebook when I messaged her asking for any possible clarification as to what Tom was suffering from, I had missed a (since removed) GoFundMe campaign created by Jenna for Tom’s benefit, back in May of 2016.

The text of the funding campaign inspired more questions than answers. In summary, according to Jenna, Tom was suffering from an unnamed condition, the pertinent information being:

1. He had lost the ability to read, write, or speak.

2. Simple tasks, such as sending a text message, were excruciatingly painful, both mentally and physically.

3. Because of the chronic pain and emotional suffering, he required an environment with as little stimulation as possible, basically total silence.

4. There are only a few doctors in the world who treat this condition. “Most live in Italy and Australia,” although one doctor lives in Virginia, and treats Tom by phone.

5. Jenna is “the only one who can take care of” Tom.

6. Tom’s mental condition worsened after the death of a pet ferret.

It’s a fairly enthralling read, and since no link is available, I’ll paste it here in its entirety:

ATTENTION: Tom is unaware that I have put this together for him. Im trying to keep it a secret until we've reached our goal. So I'm asking that we ONLY post this on Facebook because he doesn't have a FB page. As well as Tom's privacy being of great concern to me. His healing is dependent on it. Thanks so much for your support and understanding.

It is my (Jenna's) goal to raise money for our dear friend Tom Vrab to aid him in his ongoing struggle to heal is brain, his body, and his spirit.

It might come as a surprise to many of you to hear that Tom has been in neurological recovery for nearly 3 years now. This is the first time that we have revealed any details of Tom's illness.

It is, and has been, a long and painful journey. One that took away Tom's ability to read, write, and speak for nearly a year. Which is one of the many reasons you haven't heard from him. Along with at least 50 other severe symptoms and side effects, it is physically and mentally painful for him to do many of the things we take for granted every day. Even something as simple as sending a text message is emotionally stressful and physically draining for him.

Another unfortunate part is that there is no real name for his condition or known treatment. It's not something that Doctors are aware of AT ALL. And nothing that is easy to explain to anyone. There are only a handful of doctors in the world that are familiar with and will treat Tom's condition. Most live in Italy and Australia.

There is 1 doctor here in the United States. He lives in Virginia. And he treats Tom by phone. And to be honest his treatments are completely experimental. Tom seems to be the most severe case of all his patients. We have no idea if the medicines are doing anything to help. Some, in the beginning, even worsened things. Last year we were so desperate for help that we decided to go through with an experimental two week medical procedure in Seattle that the doctor recommended. None of it covered by insurance. It totaled $15,000. We had to sell everything we could to cover expenses, including Tom's car.

Since then, Tom has been living with me . I take care of him full time and I have been unable to (photo) shoot for the last 2 years. His condition is so specific and intricate that I am the only one who can care for him, since I'm the only one who has watched his illness progress from day one. This complicates things further, because it's just the two of us. No one else can physically be there for him.

Even I can't begin to explain the amount of pain, horror, and absolute torture he has endured on a daily basis. There are no words that could possibly paint a vivid enough picture. There are no pain medicines in existence that can ease the pain. The only effective healing comes from peace and quiet. Stress is a killer. Literally. Too much brain stimulation can kill him. Therefore, our living situation has to be perfect.

The biggest external problem we face right now, is needing to find a suitable home to move to in a very short amount of time. The management at our current apartment decided to re-pipe every home in our complex. A 14 day construction site in both bedrooms/bathrooms and kitchen, which is the entire house. I've spent 3 agonizing weeks doing everything I can to stop them. Explaining to anyone with the power to help how damaging their "project" would be for Tom's health. There only response was "It would cost us too much money and be too much of an inconvenience for us to change the schedule now." It's so upsetting how heartless some people are.

On top of all that, our sweet precious ferret, Prince, was diagnosed with cancer in April and passed away on March 1st. It was completely unexpected and absolutely heartbreaking. Prince was only 4 and 1/2 years old and a perfect fuzz ball of health and happiness. It has been especially difficult for Tom to come to terms with his passing. Tom was sick for most of Prince's short life. He feels guilty that he "wasn't there" for Prince," that their time together was tainted by his illness.

So before I burst into tears I'm going to wrap this up by asking for your help. I really want Tom to remember what hope feels like.

I have two weeks (until May 30th) to find a suitable home for us. The next 6-12 months are crucial for his recovery. I need to find a detached home that is peaceful, quiet, and comfortable. So far "peace & quiet" are just out of our price range. So anything that you can contribute would be beyond appreciated.

If you cannot financially help out please don't feel guilty. You can help by praying for Tom's swift recovery. He needs that just as much.

I am confident that Tom will completely heal and get back to making us all laugh until we cry! Like I've told him many times. "The finish line is in sight." Even though some days are harder to see it than others.

I know he misses his friends and family dearly and he especially misses the comedy world. There's nothing he wants more than to just be himself again and get back on stage, back into auditioning rooms, and back to fulfilling his dreams.

It's very important to Tom to be the one who explains his experience in detail once he has healed, and I respect that. His privacy is extremely important to him and it's very stressful for him to know that people have personal information about him when he isn't there to validate or deny it. And that is also why I am asking that we don't post this on any social media sites other than Facebook. As well, you can share this link through private messages, texts, and emails.

It might be nice to say that "Tom and I got through this all by ourselves ," but it would be much sweeter to say "we did it with the help of amazing, generous, and kind hearted people, like you."

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts.❤️

I read over this a handful of times and was flooded with thoughts. It was disjointed and didn’t seem to stand up on its face. The condition remained mysterious, even after a rather lengthy elaboration.

If there were doctors who could treat it, why did they not have a name for it? Could both of these things be true? The author seemed cagey, as she was with me when I messaged her. I remained confused and wanting clarification.

Further, it seemed given Tom’s complete inability to function, he should probably be in a facility of some sort, and not being taken care of by a woman without any medical training.

And this led to more questions. After briefly stalking Jenna online, I found that she was involved in pet adoption efforts, and there was that irrelevant paragraph about the ferret who passed away after a sudden illness.

Could Tom be an animal she had now tasked herself with rescuing, as part of some sick pathology akin to that movie Misery? Was she shooting him up with something?

Was this Munchausen by proxy?

And, making any such situation all the more suspicious, she needed money.

In the time since the campaign was posted, Tom’s social media accounts have been closed or made private, meaning Jenna is the only person who makes any comment on the situation, and she usually blocks anyone who pushes for information.

Tom, who was formerly an internet star, has been an internet ghost for years.

I decided last week that this was too weird, that I was going to throw privacy to the wind. Maybe I could be a friend to Tom, whether I ever was or not, just by figuring out what was going on here.

The internet wanted to know, too.

I contacted a bunch of his old cohorts, people who we knew in common, to see if they’d heard anything, (I was even able to use an archiving site to find his Top 16 on MySpace.)

Nobody had spoken to him in over a decade. All of those friends, gone just like that.

I called the police. Nobody had reported him missing.

This led me to believe his family had some grasp on the situation, so I contacted several of his direct relatives. I also contacted Jenna’s family.

I felt weird about all of this, like a meddling yenta, perhaps creating chaos for someone who simply wanted to be left alone, but I wanted to know.

Nobody wished to be quoted, and family members treated the subject like one might if their relative were in prison for cannibalism, but one Facebook conversation with someone who wishes to remain anonymous, and who is informed of the situation, went as follows:

ME: … I’m not aware of a condition where someone goes from normal to catatonic like that.

X: I wouldn't worry about that. The GoFundMe was probably not true. You can guess why you haven't heard from him and you'd be right.

ME: I don't have a good idea of what happened to the guy. Is he schizophrenic?

X: Drugs, man.

Maybe to some readers this was an obvious possibility, but it had never occurred to me.

Drugs!

He didn’t seem like that type of guy, although, again, I didn’t know him very well.

Yet, there was one time, around 2018, years after the GoFundMe and prior to my current snooping, years after I’d last seen Tom, that now sticks out in my brain.

I was walking down Sunset Blvd in West Hollywood, it was about midnight and I was on my way home, when I dropped into a shabby strip mall off of Laurel Canyon, in hopes of getting a burrito from El Pollo Loco, which was closed, so I ducked into the McDonald’s next door.

This McDonald’s, on a major intersection, at this time of night, is populated by roughly fifty percent junkies, street people, whatever you wish to call them.

As I stood in the line, buzzed, I caught the eye of a guy in a corner booth, who looked like Tom but much thinner, and with hollow eyes, doing nothing but staring, like he could have been sitting there for hours and hours. A big, overstuffed backpack was sitting on the booth next to him.

I kept looking at him, but I couldn’t tell if he was looking at me or just in my general direction. I wondered if I should approach him, but I often have a hard time recognizing faces, especially in such a foreign context.

If it wasn’t him, I’d be bothering a random lunatic. If it was, what would I even say, and would the tasteful thing be just to leave him alone?

For some reason, having not thought about him recently, I suddenly assumed he’d been institutionalized, and so why would he be here, now?

He kept looking at me, and I kept looking at him, and I walked out without ordering.

Drugs. A single syllable that told me everything I needed to know.

I don’t know if Tom was involved in the GoFundMe, if it was part of a scheme for quick cash.

I don’t know what him and his girlfriend are doing these days, but I know they’re still together.

I don’t know if he is an acid casualty, I don’t know if he’s a tweaker, I don’t know if the two of them are running scams, disability scams, fundraising scams.

I just know that he is alive, and now I know what happened to him, without any specifics. Drugs. Needless to say, it’s not the outcome I expected, and certainly wasn’t hoping for.