The Pharaoh in the Mist: Ramesses I, founder of Egypt’s 19th Dynasty, was once lost near Niagara Falls.

An image of an Egyptian sarcophagus.

Niagara Falls is more than just a natural wonder—it’s a stretch of sensory overload where spectacle overshadows serenity. On both the U.S. and Canadian sides, the streets leading to the falls feel like a carnival collided with a fever dream. There are arcades blasting 80s music, zombie apocalypse rides, crystal shops, mirror mazes, and endless souvenir stands selling everything from glow-in-the-dark Niagara T-shirts to maple syrup in suggestive glass bottles. Wax museums with off-brand celebrity replicas sit beside haunted houses and novelty candy stores, all steeped in the scent of fudge, chlorine, and nostalgia. It’s kitschy, loud, chaotic—and weirdly unforgettable.

It’s also, unbelievably, where a forgotten pharaoh spent over a century lying in plain sight.

Just a few blocks from the roaring cascade, a dead king rested in silence—Ramesses I, founder of Egypt’s 19th Dynasty and possibly the very pharaoh who raised Moses in the courts of Egypt. Not buried in the golden tombs of Thebes or beneath the Valley of the Kings. No, this royal corpse was propped up in a dim-lit tourist museum on Lundy’s Lane, surrounded by wax figures, pickled oddities, and shrunken heads.

No name. No golden mask. No pyramid.

Just a label: “Mummy—possibly Queen Nefertiti.”

But this was no anonymous relic. This was almost certainly Ramesses I, grandfather of the great Ramesses II—the man who set the stage for Egypt’s empire and, in some traditions, sheltered the infant Moses.

The Long Fall from Power

Ramesses I ruled only briefly, around 1292 BCE, but launched a dynasty that would define ancient Egypt’s golden age. After his death, he was entombed with all the honors of royalty. But centuries later, in the 1800s, looters desecrated his grave. His body was sold on the antiquities market, passed through collectors, and eventually ended up as a curiosity in the Niagara Falls Museum—a strange blend of natural history, sideshow spectacle, and dime-store horror.

For 130 years, he sat there, arms crossed in the royal pose, while families shuffled past with cotton candy and souvenir coins. They had no idea they were walking by a king—let alone one who might’ve held Moses in his arms.

A Collector with a Hunch

In 1999, the Niagara Falls Museum closed. The collection was sold to Billy Jamieson, a legendary Toronto dealer of the bizarre. Known for his obsession with tribal artifacts, tattooed human skin, and mummified remains, Jamieson had a feeling this particular mummy was different—nobler somehow.

He contacted Dr. Peter Lacovara at the Michael C. Carlos Museum in Atlanta, and that’s when the real story began.

Experts ran CT scans, X-rays, carbon dating, and facial reconstructions. They studied the embalming style, posture, and skull structure. The results were stunning: everything pointed to Ramesses I. The facial features matched ancient statues. The crossed arms were consistent with royal burials from the 19th Dynasty. Even the embalming technique dated to precisely the right era.

This wasn’t speculation—it was history, hidden in plain sight.

Image of Ramses from the Egyptian Museum.

Return of the King

In 2003, after Egypt’s Supreme Council of Antiquities reviewed the evidence, the mummy was returned home with full honors. A national ceremony marked the repatriation. Bands played. Officials wept. Television crews broadcast the return of a king who had vanished for over 3,000 years—and somehow ended up taking a century-long detour through a Canadian sideshow.

Pharaohs in the New World?

As this story emerged, a stranger tale bubbled up: reports of Egyptian ushabti figurines surfacing in El Salvador—tiny statues meant to serve the dead in the afterlife. Some claimed it was proof of ancient Egyptians crossing the Atlantic long before Columbus. Theories swirled. Were priests fleeing war? Were refugees from Exodus-era Egypt finding new lands?

But unlike the Niagara mummy, the El Salvador artifacts had no scientific backing, no excavation record, no peer-reviewed research. Most historians dismiss the tale as either a hoax or smuggling artifact. The mystery, if it ever was one, remains unsolved.

A King in the Carnival

Ramesses I may not have made it to the Americas by boat—but somehow, he made it to Niagara. For over a century, this pharaoh sat quietly in a place where history and spectacle blur—a town that celebrates the absurd, the flashy, and the forgotten all at once.

He lay there while wax cowboys melted, arcade games blinked, and thrill rides rattled the windows. Thousands passed him by without a clue. Not knowing who he was. Not realizing that just beyond the glow of the fudge shop and the scream of the haunted house sat a real king.

A ghost in the mist. A loner pharaoh. Finally remembered.

Image of King Ramses.