Just beyond the bridge overlooking Gravois Avenue sits Papa Legba’s Spiritual Supply (4535 Gravois Avenue, 314-489-4338, call for an appointment) a St. Louis staple for ritualistic tools, spiritual texts, and sacred relics. A unique hand-painted alligator covering the storefront window is enough to intrigue passersby, however a peculiar south city rumor alludes to an even greater mystery inside: a “real life mummy” tucked away in the back of the mystical emporium.
I have been fascinated by this rumor for years, and decided to see if there was any veracity to the stories I've heard. I met Henry Manning, aka Papa Legba, on a beautiful spring afternoon.
Papa Legba is in the process of moving his business to University City after 24 years in the Bevo neighborhood. He plans to operate the store out of his house starting in June. We sat amongst rows of potions and powders as Papa Legba entertained me for hours with stories of practicing witchcraft in the '70s, performing rituals with north-county covens, and pranking local law enforcement during the Satanic Panic.
As the setting became more comfortable, I finally asked “You know I have heard so many tales about a mummy being back here somewhere. Is that true?”
“Oh HELL yes!” he replied excitedly.
Papa Legba pointed towards the back of the shop, and encouraged me to investigate the rumor for myself. Sure enough, what seemed to be a mummy was propped up in between Santeria altars and moving boxes. I am far from an expert on mummy verification, but whatever laid inside a glass sarcophagus draped with a ceremonial cloth resembled a decaying corpse.
Reuben Hemmer
Papa Legba operates Papa Legba's Spiritual Supply, which will soon be moving from south city to University City.
“I got the mummy from a store that was closing down, it was in Lemay, it was called the Portal. When I bought it, I thought it was some Halloween prop. Turns out it was real! The owner of the Portal bought it from a museum in San Francisco. Now, what he didn’t tell me is when he bought the damn thing, the place burnt. His mother used to help him out with his store, and when he sold it to me … she died. When they brought the damn thing here, I used to have two parrots … one an African gray, and an Amazonian bird. They both died. I had a kitten, and it died. I said ‘you son of a bitch’, and I had to summon all the Orisha’s [Yoruba or Santeria deities] and crap I could to suppress this damn mummy.”
The mummy has been behaving as of late, Papa Legba explains. But "I have people come up all of the time and ask how much I would sell her for. I tell them ‘when I'm dying, sure you can buy it if you want, otherwise that bastard ain't going anywhere. Trust me you don’t want it!’ We’ll see what happens, but I may just donate it to the Church of Satan in Poughkeepsie someday.”
Papa Legba has guesses as to why the mummy is cursed. One idea is that it's because the mummy was disturbed. Another theory is that the mummy was misnamed Guinevere. "Some King Arthur bullshit," Papa Legba says. "When I got it there was no sarcophagus, so there was no history. Without history there is no identity. It was basically just a corpse. Not that they were ever respected anyways. It was terrible what happened in the Middle East. In fact when the freaking British built the railroads they had unwrapping parties, using the bodies to fuel their trains. Bizarre and horrible. Anyway, I gave her a home."
Papa Legba believes the mummy is of Egyptian origin due to its size. “I remember the first time I saw a mummy. I was a Cub Scout and we went to see the mummy at the art museum. I remember thinking ‘I could beat the fuck out of this thing! What is that, an adult?’”
With the move, Papa Legba plans on keeping the mummy in a spare bedroom for patrons to stop by and look at. "At the end of my time, you can toss her into the fire with me. I guess I'll be walking around the afterlife with a broad I can’t understand!”
