It’s widely believed that elephants possess complex social structures, primarily led by matriarchs who guide younger females and calves along ancient trails—a knowledge passed down through generations. We often hear that they grieve when they lose a family member. I’ve always wondered how much of this is true and how much is a beautifully crafted story, tinged with anthropomorphism that seeks to humanize these remarkable creatures.

I’ve had the privilege of spending time with the remarkable researchers of the Amboseli Trust for Elephants (ATE). This group of dedicated women ventured into Amboseli National Park in the early 1970s and has since meticulously documented the lives of over 3,500 wild elephants, inspiring awe and admiration.

ATE’s camp is tucked away in a stand of palm trees, hidden from curious eyes. As you round the corner, you’re greeted by rows of elephant skulls, each tagged with a subtle metal identifier, cross-referenced to names the researchers gave them, each associated with a specific family.

Every time I visit, I walk among these skulls, asking for stories about the elephants who once carried such wisdom within those massive heads. One story has particularly stayed with me.

When a special matriarch from the EB family, Echo, who had led her herd for nearly sixty years, passed away, the herd paid her the ultimate respect. In keeping with tradition, her tusks were removed, but her skull was left in place in the park for the herd to acknowledge her death. After a year of mourning, Echo’s skull was brought to camp to join her extended ghost family. One morning, the researchers awoke to a herd moving into the camp, making a beeline for a single skull. The elephants identified their fallen matriarch Echo’s skull, seemingly no different than others, without hesitation. They caressed her bones and paid silent homage, a display of reverence that is deeply moving. This wasn’t an isolated incident; the herd returned time and again, each time gravitating toward their mother’s skull, spending quiet moments in her presence.

So, I leave you with this thought-provoking question: Is this merely a fable?  Or do these creatures combine their instincts with a level of humanity, perhaps surpassing our own? It's a question that challenges our understanding of animal behavior and invites us to explore the depths of their emotional and cognitive capacities.