In November of 2017 we traveled to St. Louis, Missouri, and while we were there we investigated the haunted and historical Lemp Mansion. Although we had this public ghost hunt/tour booked for some time, we almost missed it.

Marianne's conference was in St. Louis this year. When we booked our room for the conference, we unfortunately found that there were no available rooms at the Saint Louis Union Station Hotel, where the conference was held, for the first couple of days, so we had to book a room at a different hotel. We took taxis to get to the conference hotel during the day. On the second day of the conference, Marianne had booked us a ghost tour at the Lemp Mansion for that night. We didn't know that another conference was happening that Thursday night, and most transport was busy shuttling people between hotels. We needed to arrive at the Lemp Mansion before 8 p.m. to participate in the tour, as there were many other guests present who could not wait to begin. When we called at 7 p.m., we were told it could take up to 90 minutes to get a ride to our event. We were scrambling trying to locate a service that could transport us there as we stood outside of the hotel watching people being picked up and taken away. With the clock ticking, we found a service that would take us, and we arrived at Lemp Mansion at 7:55 p.m.

During our visit, we had the opportunity to record the entire ghost tour/hunt since the company sponsoring the tour provided everyone with a night vision camera. We were then given the SD card with the footage. In our video below, we bring you along with us during the tour. If you would like to see the footage we have from both of our cameras, we will be posting those full, uncut clips out to our paid Patreon supporters.

After we finished producing the video, two additional things happened that we were not able to include in the main video, so we made an update. First, we found an article tying the Lemps to the Titanic. Second, Marianne found a Lemp beer bottle on eBay and purchased it for our haunted collection. We added those two items to the following update video.

We felt rushed when we arrived at the Lemp Mansion, but our moods changed as we walked up to the building. From the outside, the stately old home looked like a grand relic of the past, but once we crossed the threshold, we could feel an undeniable weight in the air. It was more than just a house; it was a monument to one of the most tragic family sagas in American history.

The mansion was built in the late 1860s and became the home of William J. Lemp, who had built a brewing empire that rivaled any in the country at the time. It was a showplace—33 rooms, Italian marble fireplaces, ornate ceilings, and all the modern conveniences of the day. It was clear that the Lemp family had wealth, influence, and every reason to be proud. But behind the luxury lay a story that would soon turn dark.

The family’s downward spiral began with the death of William’s beloved son Frederick, who died of heart failure in 1901. William never recovered from the loss. Just a few years later, he died by suicide inside the mansion. That one act set off a chain reaction that would forever stain the family’s legacy and give the mansion a reputation for being cursed.

William’s son, William Jr., took over the brewery, but he too was plagued by loss and hardship. Prohibition hit the business hard, and personal scandals weighed on him heavily. In 1922, he followed in his father’s footsteps—also dying by suicide in the mansion, this time in his office on the first floor. By now, the house was beginning to feel more like a mausoleum than a home.

Charles Lemp, another of William Sr.’s sons, lived in the mansion alone for years, growing increasingly reclusive. He rarely left the house and kept only a dog and a couple of servants for company. In 1949, Charles ended his life in the same tragic manner, taking his dog with him. After his death, the mansion was emptied of Lemps forever, but not, as many believe, of their spirits.

As we toured the house, stories of paranormal activity were whispered at nearly every stop. Cold spots, disembodied voices, and doors slamming on their own were common tales shared by both staff and guests. In the bar, people have reported glasses flying off shelves and sudden gusts of cold air with no explanation. The energy of the place was thick, like something unseen was always just over your shoulder.

One of the eeriest parts of the mansion is the attic. Legend has it that William Jr. had a son with Down syndrome who was kept hidden from public view and lived his entire life confined to the attic. People call him the “Monkey-Face Boy,” a cruel nickname that hints at how little compassion existed back then. Visitors say they’ve seen his face in the attic windows or heard faint footsteps above them when no one is upstairs.

The basement, once connected to the Lemp Brewery by underground tunnels, has earned the nickname “The Gates of Hell.” Many ghost hunters believe this area to be a portal or hotspot for activity. Some have reported being overcome by dread or nausea just by standing down there. We didn’t venture far into that part of the house—it didn’t feel right.

Even the women’s restroom has its share of strange stories. Guests have reported seeing a man’s face peeking over the stalls, only to find themselves completely alone. Others have felt invisible hands touch their backs or heard whispers when no one else was around. It’s the kind of place where even skeptics walk away second-guessing what they thought they believed.

In the 1970s, the mansion was turned into a boarding house, and even then, tenants would flee in the night, unnerved by strange events. Contractors hired to do renovations often refused to finish the job, reporting tools that disappeared or rooms that seemed to change temperature suddenly. No one could stay long without experiencing something they couldn’t explain.

Today, the Lemp Mansion operates as a restaurant, inn, and paranormal destination. You can book ghost tours, attend murder mystery dinners, or even sleep in the rooms where the Lemps once lived and died. The rooms are beautifully preserved, with antique furniture and original architectural details, but the shadows of the past linger in every corner.

Walking through those halls, knowing what happened there, made us feel like we were part of the house’s story. Whether or not you believe in ghosts, it’s impossible to ignore the heavy history that hangs in the air. The Lemp Mansion isn’t just haunted by spirits—it’s haunted by sorrow, by tragedy, and by the legacy of a family that built something great, only to watch it all fall apart. And maybe that’s the most chilling part of all.