Into the Night: The Search for UW-Milwaukee Student Sean Baek

In a conference room on the first floor of Cambridge Commons residence hall, just down the hall from the main entrance where University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee student Sean Baek was last seen almost three weeks earlier, a vigil was held for him. The standard refreshments sat on a table on one side of the room. Flanking the refreshments were Dean of Students Adam Jussel, Director of Housing Arcetta Knautz and other ranking members of staff. Students shuffled timidly through the door in groups of two or three, taking seats apart, letting their eyes shift among each other, but keeping their mouths shut.

Jussel humbly began the vigil and opened the floor as a place for unstructured discussion, a chance to get your thoughts out on Baek’s missing status. Instead of any emotional catharsis, though, an oblique silence fell over the room. Whether it was from shock, fear, or otherwise, the room exuded an aura of sorrow and confusion. After a decent amount of shuffling feet and those sighs a person makes when they just might speak but change their mind at the last second, staff broke the silence. They poured out a few stories of what they thought, why they were there, and their own feelings of shock, even though they didn’t know Baek. They made themselves vulnerable to the group.

A counselor leading the conversation asked students and others present how they know Baek and why they chose to attend the vigil. The room remained silent with blank faces. Some clenched their hands or hid them beneath sleeves. Others bounced their leg under the table or stared at the floor in what seemed a desperate attempt for the silence to cease. 

Then, a clamor exploded outside in the hall. A fleet of drums and woodwind instruments flooded through Cambridge Commons’ first floor for an awkwardly timed festival. For that brief moment in time, coexisting in Cambridge Commons, were the two furthest ends of an emotional spectrum: A moment one could perhaps never expect mixed with continued confusion from weeks of unresolved loss. For those who knew about Baek’s love of music, though, it was fitting.

On March 5, 2020, UWM freshman Sean Baek had already been missing for 21 days. It’s now been another 23 days, at the time of publication. He’s still missing. He remains UWM’s longest missing student from the residence halls. Baek’s disappearance echoed throughout the halls of campus. Theories of his whereabouts could be heard in passing groups of student conversations, leaving it nearly impossible to be uninformed. The chancellor sent emails, the police responded with press releases, the story hit the media and missing signs engulfed campus and Milwaukee. Information on Baek’s disappearance was papered around UWM’s campus, the Milwaukee community and his hometown in hopes of finding him. That is until the COVID-19 chaos overtook it all, and Baek’s name seemed to be erased from the public conversation.

As abruptly as UWM has responded to coronavirus changes recently, conversation about Baek was much more prevalent in weeks prior. That doesn’t mean people aren’t still trying to find him. They are. A GoFundMe page was created on March 17, 2020 to help with the search, which COVID-19 has made harder; the world is distracted by coronavirus, and group searches are no longer possible due to limitations on gatherings. It’s not a great time to be missing.

“Sean exited his residence hall at UW-Milwaukee in the early hours of February 14th. There has been no sign of him since,” the GoFundMe page reads. “As you can imagine the police are limited in resources to find Sean and the family has hired a private detective in the hopes that we can find Sean soon. We cannot form any group searches due to COVID-19. We are asking you in the crazy times we live in to please give a few dollars to help this family in crisis – to help bring Sean home. Sean is 18 years old and has type 1 diabetes, needing insulin to survive. Time is critical.”

UWM officials remain determined to figure out what happened to Baek.

“We are doing everything we can as a community to find Sean, and we want your help,” Jussel, Dean of Students said in an email to the campus community.

His plea for community help mirrored the plea for participation in the vigil where desperation hung in the air.

Eventually the music died down, and the vigil group changed to a quieter room. It’s a gathering COVID-19 will no longer allow. The conversation dwindled into talk of which resources there were for students who may need them. Some crafts were brought to the table. Many decided to draw and write letters to Baek’s family. Maybe in moments as vexed as that, that is all one can do.

Sean Baek’s sudden disappearance perplexed all who knew him – and still does. He was a freshman at UWM and just beginning to adjust to Milwaukee, a far cry from the streets of his hometown of McFarland, Wisconsin, a village about 10 miles southeast of Madison with an area of about five square miles. For perspective, the Village of McFarland could fit into the City of Milwaukee 19 times and still have a bit of wiggle room. His still recent high school years back home were very much happy, according to his mother Kristin Stanke Erickson. Aside from having Type-1 diabetes, Baek was much like any other teenager his age; he practiced his hobbies, hung out with friends and learned new things.

“He loves his friends and life and family,” Stanke Erickson said, “[He] is a great person with everything to live for.” However, he was also participating in a riskier ritual of big city life: Drug culture.

Fast forward to the early hours of Feb. 14, 2020, when a commotion started to brew near the front desk of the Cambridge Commons residence hall, where Baek was living. About 700 students live in Cambridge Commons, the university says, describing the dorm as a “LEED Gold Certified building featuring a green recreation area, two green roofs, and stunning views of Milwaukee’s skyline along with access to the beautiful Milwaukee River.”

Staff had just been notified by a student that two residents, Baek and his roommate, had consumed LSD in their room earlier that night, according to UWM Police Chief Joseph LeMire. Baek’s reaction was apparently not of concern, but his roommate’s condition demanded medical attention, said LeMire. EMTs and police were immediately called to come visit the dorm room in question.

But police never got the chance to speak to Baek that night.

There were a lot of “lasts” that night. The last time he was caught on camera was outside the residence hall on the corner of Cambridge and North Avenue, which, in that area, is a strip of college bars and restaurants in one direction and the Milwaukee River in the other. The last person to see him was an eyewitness who saw him continue down North Avenue in the direction of the nearby Milwaukee River, according to LeMire. The last person to hear from him was his dad, through a text, added the police chief.

“I love you guys, I am so sorry. I promise I’m happy.”

Baek’s intentions were only mystified by this message, and the days and weeks after his disappearance provided no shortage of speculation and rumors. Everything ranging from human trafficking to suicide was considered, but the investigation into Baek’s vanishing act has yielded practically nothing.

Sean Baek had walked into the night and simply disappeared.

War Room

The Sean Baek war room is tucked into the belly of the UWM Police Department headquarters. It is the heart of the investigation into Baek’s disappearance. From the small lobby, the room is up a flight of brightly lit stairs, around a few corners, and through a heavy door. In the center of the war room is a large, oval-shaped conference table and cushioned, rolling chairs. On the walls, there are several white boards, a map, and messy notes scrawled in crooked lines. There are photos of Baek, some that have been released and others possibly not seen by the public. According to LeMire, the war room has seen it all.

The search began on the morning of Valentine’s Day and has not slowed since, said LeMire.

“We searched all day everyday…and every day since then,” LeMire said in an interview.

This was shortly before UWM’s resources would be focused on grappling with an unprecedented crisis: switching an entire bustling campus into a virtual reality because of a virus few, if any, locally saw coming. Now the residence halls have emptied out along with campus.

But back in February only a few hours passed before UWM-PD officers realized that Baek still had not returned to his room after fleeing the building. The search began in that moment, beginning with a call to his family and ending with K9 and drones descending onto the surrounding area, borrowed from the city of Glendale and the city of Greenfield Police Departments.

Officers say they searched every inch of the surrounding area, including nearby vacant buildings, abandoned vehicles, and the woods behind Cambridge Commons. Baek’s car was accounted for in the Cambridge underground lot. While the K9 and drone units were able to search around the river, a dive team could not be safely deployed due to weather and current speeds, according to LeMire.

A security camera in the lobby of Cambridge Commons residence hall caught Baek wearing a maroon-and-white shirt, white shoes and a Milwaukee Bucks hat. The camera saw Baek just as he was passing the front desk and fleeing the building. Baek ran out the glass double doors, and headed toward North Avenue. 

While the security camera facing the street outside of Cambridge Commons could not see Baek going toward the river, LeMire says more than one eyewitness confirmed their suspicions.

“When someone runs out of a building, you talk to the people that were on the street. One person sees this bit, another person sees this other bit, and we piece it together.”

Thanks to the eyewitnesses as well as information gathered from other security cameras, police can trace Baek down the path toward the river, but so far they have yet to see any footage of him walking any of the paths that lead away from the river toward the street.

“The brush and the bushes are pretty heavy. If, for example, there was a trail and the only way to go out [to the street] then we would check the cameras in that area.”

After every rock was overturned, and any physical searching that could be done was done, LeMire says they started looking in other places. They contacted his friends and peered into Baek’s phone record, social media and nearby camera footage.

A security camera from Cambridge Commons shows Baek turning right onto East North Avenue, which connects with the river.

The eerie ice coated path to the river spares little light making it hard to see what lies ahead. It leads to raggedy wooden stairs that creak beneath one’s feet and, at the bottom, a large river covered in pure snow layered above the ice that lined the banks. At the center, the water continues to flow and the darkness of the night makes it appear black. The river dimly lit by the lights on the bridge above continues as far as the eye can see. Under the bridge is still and quiet and fog consumes the frigid air. A smaller bridge less than a mile from the first meets with a path that has two destinations. One leads into the city and the other to the water.

It is still not confirmed where Baek went after his last sighting on camera. But police have explored many possibilities. They scoured the city searching for him and have alerted other surrounding stations as far as Illinois. Many have questioned why a dive team has not been sent to the river to search.

According to Cherl Nenn from the Milwaukee Riverkeeper, freezing temperatures and rapid currents would have allowed for only a thin layer of ice over the portion of the Milwaukee River that runs behind Cambridge Commons. On the night of Baek’s disappearance, the water temperature, which was about 0 degrees Celsius, fell just below the average temperature of the last few years.

“It’s very possible that someone could fall into the water either directly or through thin ice,” Nenn said in an interview. “At those water temperatures, someone would have less than 15 minutes before complete exhaustion or unconsciousness from hypothermia.”

Who Is Sean?

Baek’s mother assures he is not in the river and has no doubt that Baek would not commit suicide.

The tired and trembling voice over the phone of Baek’s mother, Kristin Stanke Erickson, turned to strength and confidence when asked about her son’s intentions from the text message he sent his father.

“I know for a fact this child would not commit suicide,” said Stanke Erickson.

She said she called her son’s phone for three-four hours after he went missing, and it continued to ring every time she called, and then it finally changed to no ring and just voicemail.

Stanke Erickson said the text message, “I love you guys, I am so sorry” that police confirmed Baek sent before he went missing was referring to the drugs, not suicide.

“He thought he was going to get in trouble with his dorm; that’s why he fled,” Stanke Erickson said.

The night he left was brisk, and he had no winter coat. Stanke Erickson said she and Baek’s father always had to tell him to put on a coat since he was little.

“The no coat thing, that’s just Sean, knucklehead, it was probably in his car,” Stanke Erickson said.

He probably looked vulnerable alone with no coat and was not thinking straight with the LSD in his system, according to his mother.

Stanke Erickson said Baek is a very smart 18-year-old man who did a stupid thing, and she doesn’t want Baek’s reputation to be destroyed because of one mistake. She hopes friends, family and the community keep him in their thoughts for the wonderful person he is.

“For as dumb a decision he made, he is incredibly happy,” Stanke Erickson said. “He loves his friends, and life, and family, and is a great person with everything to live for.”

Stanke Erickson said that since Baek’s disappearance, she has talked with many of his friends who have told her stories about her son.

One of the stories that stuck out to her was when Baek’s friend told her that Baek had talked more than one of his friends out of suicide in the past.

Another moment she remembered fondly was the most recent time he was home. He was talking and goofing around with his 15-year-old little brother, who has minor autism.

“He was showing so much maturity and kindness toward helping Brady and being so sweet to him,” said Stanke Erickson, “He is just blossoming into this beautiful person.”

When Baek started college, he immediately made friends. He is very intelligent, and he expressed how much he loved college and UWM, Stanke Erickson said.

Baek’s mother talked about his strong relationships with friends and his passion for music. He is a talented singer and guitar player. There are a few things he can’t do well like play basketball,” she said with a laugh.

Stanke Erickson described how kind Sean acts toward his friends and how hilariously funny he is. Baek is the first person to pick someone up off the ground when they need help, especially his friends, said Stanke Erickson.

Baek recently changed his major. He wanted to go into computer science out of influence from his father. Now he wants to be a business major and has started taking some business classes that he was really enjoying, according to Stanke Erickson.

Stanke Erickson had a message she wanted to share with UWM students.

“Just tell kids to please be safe; it’s just not worth it,” Stanke Erickson said. “Don’t go out by yourself at night alone, it’s not okay.”

She wanted young college students to remember they are not invincible even though they may feel they are. She remembers she thought she was when she was 18 years old.

Growing Up in McFarland

Before enrolling at UWM, Baek spent his childhood in his hometown McFarland. He went to McFarland high school and was extremely involved in music, participating in two choirs. He was also on the golf team and had close relationships with his friends.

The small town of McFarland, located in Dane County in the lower third of the state, had a population of 8,449 people in 2017, according to the United States Census Bureau. The downtown area consists of about six businesses. Surrounded by effigy mounds on the area’s glacial drumlins, McFarland has long been called the “City of the Second Lake” and was once considered a second potential spot for the state Capitol in Madison. Norwegian settlers turned it into a farming town, sending cut ice down to Chicago or fishing for carp. Today, a pizzeria, coffee shop, barbershop, daycare, library and a few other businesses line a small strip. The streets were bare with a few cars that passed occasionally. The liveliest part of the city was the high school. Its parking lot was full with cars. The McFarland water tower peaked out from behind the high school.

Staff at the high school would not allow Baek’s previous guidance counselor, principal or teachers to speak with the media. Luckily, Baek’s close friends from high school who graduated in his grade were willing to share.

One of Baek’s closest friends, Matthew Mandli, was shell-shocked at Baek’s disappearance. He was confused because leaving was not a behavior Baek had partaken in before. It contrasted with Baek’s lighthearted personality that Mandli fondly remembered through times they spent together in choir.

“Sophomore year, he joined choir, at first I was a bit dismissive because he was so goofy… he was this shockingly good singer and so he and I became really good friends,” Mandli said.

On February 15, Mandli wrote this message on his Facebook page:

Sean Baek,
Your parents told me to let you know you are in no trouble. Not even a ticket. The missing persons report is for insulin. Go to anywhere and ask for a police officer and you can come home.

Mandli had extreme gratitude for Baek as he recalled his favorite moments of their friendship.

“He as a person, I mean it’s just pure positive energy,” Mandli said. “There just hasn’t been anyone that reached his level of being goofy. There was not a point that I can think of hanging out with Sean that wasn’t just absolutely ridiculous the whole time.”

Baek and Mandli have known each other since an early age, and Mandli described moments from their early years of friendship.

“Sean and I met in first grade; the first time I was ever at his house was his seventh birthday party… He and I were friends and we played Minecraft together in middle school,” Mandli said.

Baek’s early life was similar to other young children, with one exception: He was diagnosed with diabetes when he was five, according to Mandli.

When Baek was young, many people did not fully understand the hardships living with diabetes entails. Now, people have become more aware of its severity and know that people with diabetes often cannot go more than three days without insulin without it being a major life risk, said Mandli.

“Being given that diagnosis when you’re that young gives you a kind of wisdom or perspective that no one should really have to have at that age, but it kind of made him able to recognize that whatever happens you just gotta keep living,” Mandli said. “That definitely helped his ability to continue laughing at things regardless of what happens.”

Mandli was alarmed to hear Baek’s roommate’s experience with Baek the night he went missing.

“When his roommate told me that right before he had left, he was visibly scared. That made me realize that this was so much more out of the ordinary,” Mandli said.

Baek was described as a calm and rational person, according to his friends and family, which contrasted what he displayed while leaving Cambridge Commons.

“He has never just gotten up and left. Never,” Mandli said. That’s why this is such a weird thing. Sean was always the opposite of that. He was the one that was able to handle situations that got out of control and was always comfortable.

Mandli said that Baek was good at handling hard situations because of his experience with being in an immediate health risk.

“It’s so, so weird of him to do it,” said Mandli. “That’s kind of why we were led to this whole debate on when he ran to the bridge. The two options are that he went off it or under it, and both options are so darkly different, but they’re both totally possible considering how off the rest of the situation was.”

Mandli’s confused face only enhanced how the situation was so unlike Baek’s behavior he was accustomed to.

Drug Issues and Depression

While Baek’s behavior was befuddling to close friends and family, UWM Psychology Professor Krista Lisdahl said similar reactions to drugs among adolescents are not uncommon.

She has an ongoing study involving the connection between adolescents, drugs and depression. She said that it is unpredictable with drug use, especially LSD, to know if someone is going to have a bad trip.

“A lot of times it’s related to their current mood in the current situation, meaning the environment like where they’re using, who they’re using it with and what’s going on around them,” said Lisdahl. “So someone could have a relatively positive experience several times in a row and then suddenly they have a distressing trip.”

Lisdahl said these bad trips often have led to and can lead to accidents.

While unfortunate outcomes have prevailed in some of her research, it is still uncertain what happened to Baek and where he is currently.

Since Baek’s disappearance there have been many ideas of where he could be. Friends, family, police and the public all have varying opinions.

Stanke Erickson, Baek’s mother, created a Facebook post a few days after Baek went missing about a psychic’s visions that said Baek was taken by a luxury silver van and transported to the North Lakeshore Area of Chicago. She said she did not call a 1-800 number for a psychic. She has known the psychic she talked to for over seven years and other friends of hers have talked to this psychic as well. Stanke Erickson said she would not have put it out there if she didn’t believe it.

“Our family has experienced an extraordinary amount of loss in the past 10 years,” said Stanke Erickson. “It’s unbelievable how many people have died. I did a tremendous amount of research on psychics, and I have friends that psychics have worked well for and provided comfort.”

She said she also did a wide amount of research on sex trafficking. Sean probably looked vulnerable wandering around with no coat. The area and a few blocks down from his residence hall is not the safest area especially to be wandering around alone, Stanke Erickson said. There is crime in the area, although it’s not the highest-crime neighborhood in the city.

Another post that quickly went viral contained a video of a young man who fit Baek’s physical description going door-to-door in Rockford, Illinois on a very cold afternoon begging for insulin. He was not wearing the clothing that was described when Sean went missing. A woman whose door the young man knocked on said he appeared to have visible bags under his eyes and looked similar to a photo of Baek she was later shown. UWM police were contacted and eventually Rockford police confirmed it was not Baek.

Other students, including a group of Baek’s friends, questioned whether Baek was taken to or had found shelter in an abandoned home and began a student-led hunt.

According to the Neighborhood News Service, the city used to own fewer than 100 foreclosed homes, but that exploded to more than 1,000 in recent years, and banks own about 1,500 more. There are about 2,800 vacant homes dotting the city as well, according to NNS.

Driving through Milwaukee in some neighborhoods, these homes appear in large clumps and have boards nailed over the windows. The homes appear worn, unkempt and empty from the outside.

Others fearfully question whether Baek fell into the freezing river that night.

All of these theories regarding Baek’s whereabouts have been inconclusive. One thing that is certain is that Baek’s presence is greatly missed. Missing posters with pictures of Baek are spread throughout campus and Milwaukee – but it’s now an empty campus due to coronavirus. The school buses that took students to class and from each day also have these missing posters plastered above the front window but now no students are on them. The poster contains three pictures of Baek, but one headshot is slightly larger than the rest and above it reads, “STILL MISSING.” His youthful smiling face appears to stare back at riders on the bus, creating a silence in the air paralleled by the solemn atmosphere of the vigil, a gut-wrenching reminder of tremendous loss.

Update, on March 31, 2020, authorities announced that they had found the body of Baek in the Milwaukee River. They believe his death was an accident. You can read that update here.