Shadows Beneath the Brewery: Paranormal Activity at the Lemp Complex
When people talk about haunted places in St. Louis, the Lemp Mansion almost always takes centre stage. But just across the street, the sprawling Lemp Brewery complex has its own dark reputation. Its crumbling brick facades, cavernous bottling halls, and labyrinth of underground tunnels make it a natural magnet for ghost stories—and investigators have been crawling its depths for years.
The Lemp Brewery was once one of the most powerful brewing empires in America. Built above natural caves, the brewery expanded into a network of tunnels and sub-basements that gave the Lemps an edge in keeping their beer cool before refrigeration. Over time, newer structures were built on top of older ones, leaving a strange layered system—“tunnels on top of tunnels.” Today, much of that network is sealed off or forgotten, but the parts that remain accessible have drawn the attention of paranormal investigators.
The underground setting is perfect for spooky encounters: cold air that lingers in pockets, echoes that seem to come from nowhere, and darkness so complete it feels alive. Visitors to Halloween events have long swapped stories of seeing shapes in the shadows or hearing movement in empty rooms. But it’s the St. Louis Paranormal Research Society (STLPRS), led by Dr Mark Farley, that has put serious time into documenting what might be happening beneath the brewery.
Ironically enough, STLPRS has its offices in one of the old brewery buildings, so they’re practically neighbours to the ghosts. Dr Farley has led dozens of investigations into the lower levels, and in their public videos, he doesn’t shy away from saying, “There’s something down here.”
One of their most popular clips shows a sealed-off tunnel in the old Bottle Works, a passage that looks like something out of a horror movie—bricked up, forgotten, but undeniably part of the original brewery’s skeleton. In another investigation, Farley and his team explore the sub-basement, pointing out spaces that aren’t on any public tours. They’ve described weird noises, unexplained movement, and “very weird” experiences they couldn’t account for at the time.
These investigations highlight what makes the Lemp Brewery unique: it’s not just a single basement or cave, but a layered underground world. When you walk down there, you’re stepping into spaces where the architecture itself hides secrets.
The reports coming out of STLPRS investigations range from unsettling to downright eerie. Voices have been recorded in the basement, sometimes sounding like whispers just beyond earshot. In one case, investigators described a voice asking them not to leave. There are also stories—circulating among tour-goers and paranormal enthusiasts—about trail cameras capturing strange images, including what looked like the left side of a woman’s face peering from the darkness. I have personally viewed these images and will go on record saying that STLPRS are not publicity hounds, and that I fully believe the images to be genuine. They are some of the most dedicated investigators that I have had the pleasure of meeting.
On top of that, people have claimed unusually high readings on EMF and K2 meters in spots with no electricity running, as if the energy is coming from something else entirely. While these details haven’t been formally published in any scientific sense, they’ve become part of the haunted lore that clings to the Lemp Brewery basements.
One of the darker rumours tied to the brewery involves the 1990s “Package Killer”, Gary Randall Muehlberg. Muehlberg earned his name because he left victims’ bodies sealed inside receptacles—trash cans, boxes, even a barrel. Some believe he may have stashed victims in the brewery basements, specifically in an elevator shaft now referred to as “The Pit. “According to these stories, items discovered in that shaft dated back to the time of the murders, suggesting a grisly connection.
Here’s the catch: I couldn’t find any hard evidence—no police reports, no mainstream news articles—tying Muehlberg to the Lemp Brewery. His crimes are well documented, but his connection to the brewery remains speculative, more whispered rumour than fact. Still, the story circulates often enough that it’s become woven into the ghost tours and local folklore.
I haven’t had the chance to get deep inside the brewery’s tunnels, but I did join an STLPRS tour and spent some time around the complex. Even from the outside, the atmosphere is heavy. Walking near those basements at dusk, you can almost feel the weight of the place pressing down. I took a K2 meter with me and, sure enough, I got spikes in an area with no active power sources nearby. Coincidence? Maybe. But in a place like the Lemp Brewery, it’s the kind of thing that makes you stop and pay attention.
The Lemp Brewery may not be as polished or as accessible as its mansion counterpart, but that’s exactly what makes it so compelling. Its dark basements and twisting tunnels feel like the kind of place where history itself hasn’t settled down. Add in the investigations by STLPRS, Dr. Farley’s personal encounters, and the persistent rumours concerning The Package Killer, and you’ve got a site that’s as intriguing as it is chilling.
Whether you believe in ghosts or not, the brewery stands as a reminder that some places carry echoes long after the last pint has been poured. For me, the Lemp Brewery is firmly on the list of places I need to explore further—and next time, I plan on going deeper into those tunnels to see what really lingers in the dark.
