In the summer of 2019, before nationwide shutdowns began, a journalist drove from Connecticut to Kansas City and back, taking winding routes that avoided interstates entirely. Along the way, they encountered a restaurant in upstate New York serving Thanksgiving dinner daily, a park with a puddle symbolizing the Dead Sea, and clusters of sex-toy stores near churches promoting Jesus. They also visited Zane Grey’s birthplace, learning the Western novelist was once a minor-league baseball player and dentist named Pearl. These stops prompted reflections on two foundational elements of American society: religious institutions and storage spaces.

Self-storage businesses rent lockable units to individuals with excess possessions. A 2022 survey by Stanley Black & Decker’s Craftsman division revealed over a third of U.S. residential garages were too cluttered to park vehicles inside. Industry analyst Patrick Lemp noted the sector began as small, family-run operations in the 1970s before evolving into a major commercial asset class. The U.S. holds about 90% of global storage capacity, with Texas leading in facilities and Hawaii the fewest. New York City ranks third nationally in storage locations, though smaller cities often match its per-capita availability. Specialized providers in Reno, Nevada, support Burning Man participants by managing gear rentals, while Wichita, Kansas, once held the title of Self-Storage Capital.

Unit sizes vary from closet-like spaces to massive areas accommodating entire homes. Chains like Public Storage, Extra Space Storage, and CubeSmart operate multi-story facilities resembling office buildings. Neighbor, a storage marketplace co-founded by an AI technologist, reports more U.S. storage sites than combined locations of Starbucks, McDonald’s, Walmart, Home Depot, Domino’s, Dunkin’, and Costco. Annual revenues exceed $40 billion.

Industry professionals cite four key drivers: death, displacement, divorce, and downsizing—life events that force confrontations with accumulated belongings. Paul Roossin, an AI researcher who once stored a synthesizer, piano, and Hammond organ in Queens, described visiting his unit infrequently over years. After donating the instruments to charity, he rediscovered forgotten possessions. He later downsized further with assistance from a friend, illustrating how storage can become both a repository and a catalyst for reevaluating material attachments.