Most of Phineas Gage rests 6 feet under in Colma.
In a quiet spot marked by a large white obelisk, Gage’s torso, legs and arms are buried. In the 160 years since his death, what remains of him is likely little more than dust. All except for his skull, bright white and perfectly preserved, on display over 3,000 miles away. People still come to gawk at it — and the hole pierced right through his brain that he lived with for 16 years.
At 25, Gage found himself working as a foreman for the Rutland Railroad in Vermont. On Sept. 13, 1848, he was helping set up a demolition when the charge ignited unexpectedly. Gage was leaning over the powder as the whole thing exploded. An iron rod, about 1 inch around and more than 3 feet long, was propelled by the violent detonation straight into Gage’s face.
As the baffled doctors inspected him, the worst of his injuries seemed to be blood loss. So much blood had gone into his stomach that he kept vomiting. His left eye was “dull and glassy” but responded to light stimuli. Gage told them he was “free from pain,” which seemed inconceivable for someone who just had a 3-foot rod shoot all the way through their brain.
For 10 days, Gage was … alive, if not thriving. But then he slipped into a semi-comatose state and permanently lost sight in the left eye. After two months, recovered somewhat from the head trauma, he insisted to doctors he wanted to resume normal life. Against their wishes, he began carrying on as before and, remarkably, had success doing so.