In the heart of Savannah, where the Spanish moss clings to live oaks like the skeletal fingers of the past, stands a sentinel of stone and steel that has watched the city breathe for over a century. The Savannah Bank and Trust Building, located at 2 East Bryan Street, is more than just a relic of the “skyscraper” boom of the early 1900s. It is a vertical vault of memories, a soaring monument to the “Hostess City’s” financial ambition, and—if the whispers on the night air are to be believed—a playground for spirits who never quite closed their accounts.

As you step into the shadow of this fifteen-story giant on the edge of Johnson Square, the air seems to grow a few degrees cooler. This isn’t just the salt breeze from the Savannah River; it’s the weight of history. For those embarking on a Savannah ghost tour, this building serves as a chilling reminder that in Georgia’s oldest city, the line between the living and the dead is often as thin as a teller’s receipt.

A Foundation of Shadows: What Lay Before the Vaults

Before the neoclassical columns of the Savannah Bank and Trust Building rose to scrape the Georgia sky in 1911, the ground beneath it was already steeped in the dramas of colonial life. Savannah was designed on the Oglethorpe Plan, a series of wards and squares that were as much about military defense as they were about community. Johnson Square, the city’s first square, was the literal and figurative center of Savannah’s early existence.

In the 18th and 19th centuries, the site was occupied by humbler structures—wooden shops, taverns, and residences that smelled of hearth smoke and horse-drawn commerce. This area was the hub of the “Trustee Lots,” reserved for the city’s most vital buildings. However, history in Savannah is rarely clean. During the Revolutionary War and the subsequent Siege of Savannah in 1779, this very soil was trampled by soldiers and soaked with the blood of the fallen.

Local legend suggests that when the deep foundations for the current skyscraper were dug, workers disturbed more than just dirt. They unearthed the remnants of a city that had burned and rebuilt itself multiple times, potentially stirring the “restless energies” of those who lived and died on this corner long before the first brick of the bank was laid.

Nighttime view of a tall stone obelisk monument in a Savannah square, surrounded by oak trees and brick walkways. Warm lamplight glows through the trees, casting soft shadows across the landscaped grounds and nearby buildings.

The Skyscraper of 1911: Architecture or Altar?

When the New York architectural firm of Mowbray and Uffinger designed the Savannah Bank and Trust Building, they weren’t just building an office; they were creating a statement. Completed around 1911–1912, it was a marvel of the “Greek tripartite” scheme—modeled after a classical column with a distinct base, a long shaft, and a decorative capital at the top.

  • The Base: A four-story foundation of heavy stone, meant to project an image of unbreakable security.

  • The Shaft: Eight stories of repetitive window tiers, reaching toward the clouds.

  • The Capital: A three-story crown featuring intricate cornices and neoclassical flourishes.

At the time, it was one of the tallest buildings in the South, a gleaming beacon of the Savannah Historic District. But to the superstitious, the building’s height was a provocation. In a city where the dead are buried beneath the streets and the spirits are said to inhabit the very walls, building so high was seen by some as a hubristic attempt to rise above the ghosts of the Lowcountry.

The Ghosts in the Machine: Legends of the High-Rise

For those seeking the most haunted places in Savannah, the Bank and Trust building offers a different kind of chill than the typical Victorian mansion. Here, the hauntings are corporate, cold, and strangely persistent.

The most frequent reports come from the “liminal spaces”—the elevators and the stairwells. Security guards and late-night cleaning crews have long whispered about the “Shadow Man of the 10th Floor.” Described as a tall, silhouette-like figure dressed in an outdated three-piece suit, he is often seen standing at the end of the long, marble-tiled hallways. When approached, he doesn’t vanish into thin air; he simply steps into an office that, upon inspection, is locked tight from the inside.

The Phantom Phone Calls

In the era before digital switching, the building’s internal phone system was notorious for “ghost calls.” Tenants would pick up a ringing line only to hear the heavy, rhythmic breathing of someone on the other end, or more unsettlingly, the distant sound of a 1920s-style jazz band playing through a wall of static. Even as the technology was modernized, the calls persisted, often originating from rooms that were entirely vacant.

The Cries from the Vault

Deep in the basement, where the original steel-reinforced vaults once held the fortunes of Savannah’s elite, there is a lingering heaviness. It is said that during the Great Depression, a disgraced financier took his own life within the bowels of the building to avoid the shame of his losses. Paranormal investigators on haunted Savannah tours often mention “cold spots” near the old vault doors—pockets of air so frigid they can take your breath away, even in the height of a humid Georgia July.

A Landmark of the Living and the Dead

The building has seen many names over the decades—Wachovia, First Union, and now various private offices and luxury developments. Yet, its character remains unchanged. It is a pillar of the Savannah skyline, its windows reflecting the sunsets over the Talmadge Memorial Bridge like a thousand golden eyes.

But why does the Savannah Bank and Trust Building hold such a prominent place in Savannah folklore? Perhaps it’s because it stands as a bridge between the old world and the new. It sits on the edge of Johnson Square, where the grave of Nathanael Greene lies just yards away. It overlooks the site of colonial executions and the bustling commerce of Bay Street. It is a lightning rod for the city’s energy.

The sensory experience of the building is unmistakable:

  • The Smell: A mix of old paper, ozone from the elevators, and a faint, metallic scent of copper.

  • The Sound: The wind whistling through the “capital” at the top, which sounds eerily like a human sigh when the gusts are just right.

  • The Sight: The way the light hits the Indiana limestone, making the building look like a ghost itself against the midnight sky.

Whispers of the Savannah Skyline

Why You Should Visit

Whether you are a history buff or a seeker of the supernatural, the Savannah Bank and Trust Building is an essential stop. It represents the “Gilded Age” of Savannah, a time when the city was shaking off the dust of the Civil War and reaching for the future. But in Savannah, the future is always built on the bones of the past.

When you walk past 2 East Bryan Street tonight, look up. Look past the modern office lights and the glowing “Exit” signs. Look to the top floors, where the shadows seem a little thicker than they should be. You might just see a figure looking back down at you, wondering if you’ve come to settle an old debt.

The spirits of Savannah don’t care about inflation or interest rates. They only care about being remembered. And as long as this limestone giant stands over Johnson Square, they will never be forgotten.