In the many years of road trips taken with
my sister, Vicki, we visited hundreds of historic sites. Most were in the western part of the U.S., ranging from the Dakota plains to the deep canyons of the Southwest. Some, like Mesa Verde, felt empty, others like Wupatki were alive with spirits.
Joshua Chamberlain, the ‘hero of Gettysburg’, wrote (years after the three day Civil War battle) that great spirits dwelled where great events happened. With more than 50,000 men lost in those three days, I’d say that qualifies as a place where spirits dwell.
I’d ask you this: Have you ever stepped into a building or walked through a landscape and felt an inexplicable sense of heaviness, sadness, or joy?
Maybe you’ve heard stories of places where strange phenomena occur—doors slamming on their own, whispers in empty rooms, or cold spots in otherwise warm spaces. These experiences often raise a fascinating question: can a place hold the memories of past events?
From years of my own experience, I’d have to answer: Yes.
The Stone Tape Theory
There’s this thing called the Stone Tape Theory. It suggests that the physical environment—whether it’s a house, your living room wall, a battlefield, or a sacred site - particularly those with high concentrations of stone - has the ability to absorb and "record" the energy of significant occurrences.
The theory proposes that intense emotions, particularly those linked to strong experiences like death, suffering, or deep passion, imprint onto the environment, much like a recording. Under the right conditions, these imprints may be “replayed,” allowing people to see, hear, or sense echoes of the past, often interpreted as hauntings or residual spirits.
Historians and anthropologists speak of cultural memory, where the collective experiences of a group become tied to specific locations—again, think of the energy associated with battlefields, pilgrimage sites, or ancient ruins.
I once asked Jessica Macbeth (author, The Faeries Oracle) why places like Stonehenge or the Chalice Well (Glastonbury) have so much psychic/spiritual energy. She said, simply, that it’s because people have been going there for centuries to pray, meditate, or pay homage.
Although I’m sure skeptics or scientists could make a logical argument against the theories of place memory, countless stories across cultures suggest there’s something more than just happenstance. Think of the Roman Colosseum, where the echoes of gladiator battles linger, or Gettysburg, where visitors report ghostly soldier apparitions. My own cousin, a Civil War reenactor, experienced the sound of ghost horses and marching men on a late night there.
Closer to home, think of an old family house. Walk into a kitchen where countless meals were prepared and stories were shared, and you might feel those memories. My question would be: Are you experiencing the memory held by place, or seeing the ghosts of your own past? Or what about a living room that witnessed so many fights?
Sacred sites are another powerful example. Places like Stonehenge or Machu Picchu carry an undeniable sense of mystery. Though we may not know the full stories of the people who built these places, the energy of their rituals, prayers, and intentions seems to remain, drawing visitors from all over the world.
Not all memories are joyful, of course. Abandoned asylums, old prisons, or sites of tragedy often evoke a sense of unease. These places feel heavy with the weight of suffering and despair, as though the walls themselves absorbed the emotions of those who lived or died there. I felt this in spades while visiting Fort Totten in North Dakota; once an ‘Indian school’, the energy was so dark I couldn’t force myself to walk into any of the buildings.
My question, then, is do places hold memories, or do the ghosts who live there inform us? In the end, places are more than just physical locations—they are repositories of both our emotions and our experiences.
One more story
Years ago Vicki and I visited the Pawnee Museum in Republic, Kansas. We were the only visitors, so had a generous amount of time to talk to the sole docent. The museum holds many artifacts of Pawnee history, including a precious - and never opened - sacred Medicine Bundle. Other artifacts were from the surrounding area and the time period in which the Pawnee lived there.
One year, the docent told us, a tornado hit. It tore the roof off of the museum and scattered artifacts and paintings all over the site. Except the Pawnee artifacts. They stayed on the walls where they had been placed, including the Medicine Bundle. None were disturbed. None.
So tell me, was this a place holding the memory of the Pawnee who lived there or was it happenstance that nothing of theirs was disturbed?
What do you think? I know many of you pick up the vibes of a place. Thank you for using the Comments to share your ideas.
Nancy
The first time I visited Savannah, Georgia, was 2008. I remember feeling like my body was entering a place I could feel on my skin but couldn't see with my eyes. Like driving into a wall of clear gelatin. The sensation was visceral and I remember knowing the land held more dead than living. Since that time, I've paid more attention to how my body responds to spaces and dwellings. For example, a few years back, my best friend and I made a little day trip up to Juliette, Georgia, to have lunch at the Whistle Stop Cafe (made famous by FRIED GREEN TOMATOES). Afterwards, we moseyed across the street to a row of thrift and antique shops. I walked into one of the antique stores and my heart raced so violently that I had to leave. There was something, or someone, in that shop that didn't like me one bit.
Thank you so much for sharing this post. I haven't heard of the Stone Tape Theory but it really resonated with me, especially since I've been spending the last few months exploring the stone circles of Derbyshire and Yorkshire! All of these places have felt so peaceful and powerful to me. Places where people have come to pay respects, connect to the ancestors and the gods and connect with each other for thousands of years. All but one! At one of these sites, Arbor Low, I felt ill at ease. I saw visions of sacrifices and other horrendous ancient practices. Interestingly, in this stone circle all the stones have "fallen", but I had the very strong feeling it was "shut down" on purpose. Even though I'm very intuitive I wondered if I was just letting my imagination run away with me! A few days later I met someone who knew quite a bit about local folklore. I told them I got a bad vibe there and they said - "Oh yeah, they say there were human sacrifices there". I felt that I had seen it, accessed the "tapes" and sounds like many others have been able to as well! Sorry that was a long story, but I just loved this post and wanted to share a recent experience!