On August 28, 1887, a man was found wandering the streets of Norristown, Pennsylvania, disoriented and unable to say who he was.

He knew his name was “A.J. Brown.” He knew he was a stationer. But he had no memory of where he came from, why he was there, or how he’d arrived.

Eventually, his identity was discovered: he was Ansel Bourne, a 61-year-old preacher from Rhode Island.

Two months earlier, Ansel had left his home to run errands. He withdrew $551 from the bank, boarded a train, and vanished.

During those two months, he had traveled to Pennsylvania, rented a shop under the name “A.J. Brown,” and operated a small stationery and confectionery business.

He made sales. He paid rent. He interacted with customers. He lived an ordinary life.

Then, one morning, he woke up confused and terrified in a strange room, in a strange town, with no memory of the past two months.

The last thing he remembered was withdrawing money from the bank in Rhode Island.

He had no idea he’d been living as “A.J. Brown.” He had no recollection of opening a shop, selling goods, or moving to Pennsylvania.

Two months of his life had simply vanished.

This is dissociative fugue—a condition where the brain erases identity, constructs a new one, then suddenly restores the old, leaving the person stranded in an unfamiliar life.

What Is Dissociative Fugue?

Dissociative fugue (from the Latin fugere, “to flee”) is a rare psychiatric condition characterized by:

1. Sudden, unplanned travel away from home.

The person leaves their familiar environment, sometimes traveling hundreds or thousands of miles, with no memory of planning the trip.

2. Inability to recall their past.

They experience retrograde amnesia—loss of memory for their previous identity, relationships, and life history.

3. Confusion about identity or assumption of a new identity.

Some fugue patients simply don’t know who they are. Others spontaneously adopt a new name, occupation, and personality.

4. The fugue state eventually ends abruptly.

The person “wakes up” in an unfamiliar place, confused about how they got there. Their old memories return, but they have no memory of what happened during the fugue.

It’s not malingering. It’s not faking. Brain imaging studies of fugue patients show abnormal activity in regions responsible for memory and self-awareness.

The brain genuinely erases and rewrites identity.

The Case of Ansel Bourne

Ansel Bourne became one of the most famous cases of dissociative fugue in history, studied by pioneering psychologist William James (author of The Principles of Psychology).

After Bourne “woke up” in Norristown, he was returned to Rhode Island. He had no memory of “A.J. Brown” or the two months he’d spent in Pennsylvania.

Friends and customers in Norristown confirmed that “Brown” had behaved normally—polite, competent, consistent. He ran the shop efficiently. He seemed entirely ordinary.

But Ansel Bourne, the preacher, had no recollection of any of it.

Under hypnosis, William James was able to access the “A.J. Brown” personality. In this state, Bourne remembered the fugue period in vivid detail—the train trip, renting the shop, daily business operations.

But when brought out of hypnosis, Bourne forgot it all again.

It was as if two separate people—Ansel Bourne and A.J. Brown—had lived in the same body, with no awareness of each other.

Modern Cases: The Mystery Deepens

Dissociative fugue is extremely rare, but cases continue to be documented.

Case 1: The Man Who Woke Up in Denver (2006)

A man known only as “Jeff” was found wandering in Denver with no identification and no memory of who he was.

He couldn’t recall his name, his hometown, his family, or his past.

His case was featured on national news. After four months, a viewer recognized him: his name was Jeffrey Ingram, and he’d disappeared from Olympia, Washington.

When reunited with his fiancée, he didn’t recognize her.

His memories before the fugue never fully returned. He had to rebuild his identity from scratch based on what others told him about his life.

Case 2: The Florida Teacher (1985)

A Florida schoolteacher disappeared while jogging. Six months later, she was found working as a bartender in a different state under a new name.

She had no memory of her previous life, her career, or her family.

When her identity was discovered and she was reunited with loved ones, she experienced intense confusion and distress. The people claiming to be her family felt like strangers.

Her old memories gradually returned over months, but memories of the fugue period were lost.

Case 3: The Reverend in Hong Kong (1996)

A British reverend disappeared from his home. Months later, he was found living in a homeless shelter in Hong Kong.

He had no identification, no money, and no memory of who he was or how he’d traveled to Hong Kong.

When his identity was confirmed, he had no recollection of the months-long fugue. He remembered his life before but had no explanation for the gap.

The Triggers: Trauma, Stress, and Escape

Dissociative fugue is almost always triggered by extreme psychological stress or trauma:

Severe emotional trauma:

  • Death of a loved one
  • Marital conflict or divorce
  • Financial ruin
  • Intense guilt or shame

Situations involving unbearable psychological conflict:

  • A person facing a moral dilemma they can’t resolve
  • Overwhelming responsibilities they feel they can’t meet
  • Abuse or domestic violence

Traumatic events:

  • Natural disasters
  • War or combat exposure
  • Physical assault

The fugue appears to be the brain’s escape mechanism—a way to flee from a situation so psychologically unbearable that the mind chooses to erase itself rather than face it.

In a sense, the person doesn’t just run away geographically.

They run away from being themselves.

The Neuroscience: How Does the Brain Erase Identity?

Brain imaging studies of dissociative fugue patients show abnormalities in:

1. The hippocampus (memory encoding and retrieval)

Activity in the hippocampus is often suppressed or disrupted, preventing access to autobiographical memory.

2. The prefrontal cortex (self-awareness and identity)

Reduced activity in regions responsible for self-referential thinking and autobiographical narrative.

3. The amygdala (emotion and stress response)

Hyperactivity in the amygdala suggests heightened emotional distress, which may trigger the dissociative response.

The leading theory:

Under extreme stress, the brain activates a dissociative mechanism that blocks access to autobiographical memory as a protective response.

In normal dissociation (like “zoning out” during a boring lecture), this mechanism is mild and temporary.

In dissociative fugue, it becomes extreme and sustained, severing the person’s connection to their past entirely.

The result: a person who can function normally—speak, reason, interact—but has no access to their identity.

The Mystery of the New Identity

One of the most baffling aspects of fugue is that some patients don’t just lose their identity—they create a new one.

Not through deliberate decision. It happens spontaneously.

How?

We don’t fully know.

One theory: the brain abhors a vacuum. When autobiographical memory is blocked, the brain improvises.

It generates a new name, a new backstory, a new personality—enough to function socially without triggering suspicion.

It’s similar to confabulation (when the brain fills memory gaps with fabricated stories), but more elaborate and sustained.

The “new” person often has a different occupation, personality, and lifestyle from the original identity.

Ansel Bourne (a religious preacher) became A.J. Brown (a storekeeper).

The British reverend became a homeless wanderer.

The teacher became a bartender.

It’s as if the brain, freed from its original identity constraints, generates a new self almost randomly.

The Return: Waking Up in a Strange Life

The fugue state typically ends as abruptly as it began.

The person “wakes up”—often without any obvious trigger—disoriented and confused.

They’re in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by strangers, with no memory of how they got there.

Then the old memories flood back.

But the fugue period remains a blank.

Imagine:

You go to the bank to withdraw money. You blink.

Suddenly, you’re standing in a strange city, in a strange apartment, wearing clothes you don’t recognize.

People around you greet you by a name that isn’t yours.

You have no memory of the past two months. No idea how you got here. No idea who these people are.

You remember your real life, your real identity—but everything since the bank is gone.

This is the experience of emerging from dissociative fugue.

It’s terrifying.

Recovery and Long-Term Effects

Most fugue states last days to months. Rarely, they can last years.

Once the fugue ends and the original identity returns:

Memories of the fugue period are usually lost permanently.

Patients rarely regain memories of what they did during the fugue. Those experiences are erased.

Some patients experience recurring fugues.

Fugue can happen more than once, especially if the underlying psychological triggers aren’t addressed.

Therapy focuses on the underlying trauma.

Treatment typically involves psychotherapy to address the stressors or trauma that triggered the fugue. Antidepressants or anti-anxiety medications may be used to stabilize mood.

The emotional impact is profound.

Waking up in a strange place, having lost weeks or months of your life, is deeply disorienting and frightening. Many patients experience anxiety, depression, and fear of recurrence.

The Philosophical Weight

Dissociative fugue forces us to confront uncomfortable truths about identity:

1. Identity is stored information.

If the brain blocks access to your memories, “you” disappear—even though your body, your brain, and your ability to function remain intact.

2. Identity can be temporarily rewritten.

The brain can generate a new “you” from scratch, complete with a new name and personality, if the original is inaccessible.

3. Continuity of self is fragile.

We assume we’re the same person we were yesterday because we remember yesterday. But if memory is disrupted, that continuity shatters.

Fugue patients show that you are, in large part, your memories.

Without them, you become someone else.

The Wondering

What happened during Ansel Bourne’s two months as A.J. Brown?

He ran a shop. He made transactions. He had conversations. He lived a life.

But “Ansel Bourne” has no access to those experiences. They happened to “A.J. Brown,” who no longer exists.

So who lived those two months?

Was it Ansel, unconsciously? Was it a different person entirely?

If you can’t remember living a life, did you live it?

Dissociative fugue shows that identity isn’t just fragile—it’s discontinuous.

You can experience life, then forget it completely, and in forgetting, lose the “you” who lived it.

And that raises the question:

How much of your life have you forgotten?

Not through fugue—just through normal forgetting.

How many versions of “you” existed in the past, shaped by memories you no longer have access to?

If you can’t remember them, are they still you?

Dissociative fugue makes the question extreme.

But maybe it’s asking something we all experience in smaller ways every day:

Who are you when the memories that define you disappear?

The answer fugue patients give us:

Someone else.


Medical and Research Sources:

  • James, W. (1890). The Principles of Psychology. Henry Holt and Company. (Ansel Bourne case study)
  • Coons, P. M., & Milstein, V. (1992). “Psychogenic amnesia: a clinical investigation of 25 cases.” Dissociation, 5(2), 73-79.
  • Stengel, E. (1941). “On the aetiology of the fugue states.” Journal of Mental Science, 87(369), 572-599.
  • Markowitsch, H. J., et al. (1997). “Retrograde amnesia after traumatic injury of the fronto-temporal cortex.” Journal of Neurology, Neurosurgery & Psychiatry, 63(1), 117-119.
  • Spiegel, D., & Cardeña, E. (1991). “Disintegrated experience: the dissociative disorders revisited.” Journal of Abnormal Psychology, 100(3), 366-378.

Next in the series: The Capgras Delusion Families - When your brain says your loved ones are identical imposters.