Want to get really weird this Halloween night? Go no further than to 102 Monroe Street in the Haskell section of Wanaque to see the Weird NJ creations of Kim-Marie Dakake.

“I always do Halloween displays for my community,” says Dakake. “Each year I try and do something different. Last year I did ‘Nightmare Before Christmas’ and before that I did the ‘Legend of Sleep Hollow.’ I’ve made dungeons and a dragon’s lair, a haunted barn candy shop, and all kinds of things for the last 10 years. This year it’s all about Weird NJ. I’m a big fan and it’s my last year doing this. I decided it’s my year, so I’m doing a Weird NJ theme. We’re going out with a bang!”

Kim-Marie and her husband Tom own a construction company called Accurate General Contractors, so materials are always ready-at-hand. The displays are cut freehand out of particle board, and made from whatever materials are lying around.

WNJ: The top of the roof has UFOs and aliens on it. Tell us about that.

Wanaque has two local legends, one being the Wanaque Vortex and the other the UFO sightings over the reservoir. I’ve heard about the UFO incidents since my childhood. I grew up in Pompton Lakes and remember when I was young looking up towards the sky to see if I could see anything but never did. This is a tribute to the town I live in.

Why is this the last year?

It’s getting to be just too much. Usually I’ll make one prop then build around it, but this year it’s everything bigger than life! I love the essence of New Jersey. I also love True Jersey apparel, so I incorporated their logo on the shape of the state. I love our local legends. I love Taylor ham and cheese, the coffee and I love the way we talk!

Is this open for all trick or treaters?

Yes, it is. When we first moved here there was no Halloween traffic at all, so I decided to make displays to attract the kids. Now it’s grown into this. We get about 1,000 kids coming here on Halloween night. I’m known in town as the “Halloween Lady.” It’s all about the fun of it for the kids. Now Halloween is huge on this block. Kids and traffic all over the place!

Does it all get taken down the day after Halloween?

It used to come down the next day, but this I’ll keep up for about a week. When Hurricane Sandy hit, the local kids didn’t get to trick or treat. My display that year actually stayed up—no damage, so I kept it up for about 2 weeks and had about 6 other towns come here so all the kids could get candy.

What happens to the displays once Halloween is gone? Aren’t you going to miss doing this?

I save a lot of the displays. I do work with the drama club here in town making their sets, so they get re-cycled and reused. I’m a big recycler—nothing gets wasted.

When we visited Kim-Marie on Monday, she and her husband Tom were still working on the “Vortex Walk to the Reservoir” and adding new displays and signs as they went along. Who knows what frightful delights this Weird NJ menagerie will turn into Halloween night. People often ask us “What’s the weirdest thing you’ve even seen?” and for the moment, this is where it’s happening.

There is a strange and lonely road that runs through Tinton Falls and Neptune called Essex Road. Like many of the roads less traveled throughout New Jersey, Essex Road’s lore includes tales of ghosts, Satanists and unseen cannibals lurking in the woods, laying in wait to attack any motorist unlucky enough to wander onto their turf. Unlike other such legendary streets though, Essex Road at one time had an added attraction to enhance its mystique – body outlines on the pavement which are drawn or laid out in tape on the black top to mark the places of the fallen victims. In recent years development has encroached on this once lonely stretch of road through the woods, but old legends such as the ones told of Essex Road die hard. Weird NJ readers share their experiences on this bizarre byway…

Former Road Residents Plagued by Albino Rumors

Essex Road is an isolated, unlit road, partially bordered on both sides by marshland, and cut into the wooded outskirts of town. It’s only about one-half mile long, partially running parallel to the Parkway, with some industrial buildings at one end.

Picture driving down this desolate road at night, as you turn off the headlights and observe your path being illuminated by the blue-green glow of the mist covering the road in the moonlight. As you approach the end, you notice a lone dirt road projecting into the woods, a driveway of a house, by an unmarked mailbox. Curiosity makes you turn into this driveway, which is only wide enough for one car. You can’t turn around for there is dense woodland on either side. Then up ahead, there it is: you can just make it out: The silhouette of a big old house––the kind that you might find while peering through the Spanish moss-draped trees in the backwoods of Louisiana. Suddenly, you see the lights of the house turn on, and out come running all these people with clubs and guns. You’re now surrounded by the “Albinos.”

Well, this was always the perfect setting to scare the pants off of your friends on a Saturday night. This is an urban myth that was circulated through the halls of Neptune High School back in the ’60s and ’70s. If you weren’t riding the “circuit” in Asbury Park on a Saturday night (which can no longer be done, because the sewer treatment plant now blocks the end of Ocean Avenue), you were being chased by the “Albinos.”

The previous story is true, with two exceptions. The “Albinos” were just a normal elderly couple who had lived on the spooky, desolate Essex Road for years, and just wanted to be left alone. But they were constantly plagued by this urban myth. The mysterious glowing mist was explained by my Neptune High School chemistry teacher, Mr. George Monahan. It was just swamp gas mixed with humid atmospheric conditions, and the added moonlight gave the appearance that it was glowing and blue-green in color.

Fast-forward to 2014. The elderly couple’s house has now been replaced by Seabrook Village, a senior assisted living facility. I hope that they got a generous price for their land, because this place is huge. The other end of Essex Road, that had a few industrial buildings, has now been augmented by the addition of the Asbury Park Press Building, and most recently the Jersey Shore Outlet Center. –Dr. A. J. DeVivo

Body Outlines On Essex Road

Essex Road has a bunch of Satanic stuff written on the asphalt and no matter how many times that it is repaved, the symbols keep reappearing. There are stories of kids being killed by cars, and their body outlines can still be seen on the road. I saw this stuff myself, not knowing what it was, until I stopped and looked, then it hit me!   –Doug

Murderous Albinos of Essex Road

While working in Freehold, my cousin and her friend told me about Essex Road in Neptune. They said that in the late 1800’s, families of albinos lived along the road deep in the woods. People used to come from all over just to get a look at them. I guess they got fed up and began murdering curious onlookers and putting the bodies in a slaughterhouse.

At a local gas station we asked the attendant where Essex Road was and he said, “So, you want to see the albinos.”   –Jennifer B.

Fear Run on Essex Road

I remember Essex Road used to be a true “road to nowhere,” that is now the site of developments. Some friends and I had a scary experience there back in the summer of 1983. We had all heard the tales of albinos that used to live back there who would terrorize people, so we felt it was due time to check it out. We drove down the unpaved road in a convertible Volkswagen bug. It was truly creepy out there – so much so that only my friend and I decided to venture further on foot. The other person that was with us decided to wait in the car. We made our way down toward the first of what looked like run-down, very small houses. I remember it was eerily quiet as we cautiously approached the mini- house to see what we would find. As we got within maybe 20 or 30 feet of the house, flames shot out of two of the broken windows! My friend and I turned around and ran back towards the car, scared as hell. I think we both dove back into the convertible and got out of there as fast as we could. We refer to our getaway from the house as our “fear run.” –Ghoul Runnings

Attacks on Essex Road

Albino families supposedly lived namelessly in the woods behind Essex Road. When development started in the woods, an accidental death of one of the albinos caused a war between the workers and the albino family. Another tale tells of a romance between an albino girl and an “outsider” which was ended quickly and painfully by the girl’s father. Also, Satanists supposedly practice secret rites in these woods.

Cars have been forced off the road by unseen forces and slammed into barriers and trees. Misty forms appearing in the middle of Essex Road startling drivers into stopping or veering off the road. If you went around the hard curve on the road two little girls who supposedly died in a car crash there are said to appear, in warning.

When I was in high school, it was common to drive down this spooky road. People were dared to get out of the car and go into the woods, but no one ever did. There were pentagrams and other symbols painted on the street, though the presence of ritual magic users was never noticed.

Essex Road has a very strange effect on many people. In reality the road is only about a two minute long drive, but when you drive down at night the drive seems infinite, as though you’d never get off the strange road. –Joi C.

Weird NJ magazine, “Your Travel Guide to New Jersey’s Local Legends and Best Kept Secrets,” can be found on newsstands throughout the state and on the web at www.WeirdNJ.com.

Photos ©Weird NJ / Mark Moran

It’s a lone white wooden building that stands with its back to the windswept shore of the Sandy Hook Bay in the Port Monmouth section of Middletown. Its official name is the Seabrook-Wilson Homestead, but most people know it much better as The Spy House. Though its true history belies many of the legends that have circulated for years about this old property, that has not dissuaded some believers in the paranormal from dubbing it “the most haunted house in America.”

The Spy House was built some time around 1650 and originally sat on 300 acres of land along the lonely Port Monmouth shoreline. As the story goes, at the time of the Revolutionary War it was a tavern and a popular drinking spot for British troops. Its owner at the time was an innkeeper named Thomas Seabrook, who was a patriot in the New Jersey militia. The origins of the “Spy House” moniker come from the legend that Seabrook would get the Redcoat soldiers liquored up enough to spill military secrets and then pass his overheard intelligence on to the Colonial forces. Historians are dubious about the validity of this tall tale, though most will admit certain aspects of it are at least partially factual. The building actually would become a tavern, but not until around 1910, more than a century after the legend states. It would be employed as an inn right up until the 1970s, operating under various names such as The Bayside Manor and the Lighthouse Inn.

In the early 19th century the house belonged to a local reverend named William V. Wilson and his wife Martha, whose residence there would add the second part of its official name, the Seabrook-Wilson Homestead.

The building was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1974, and it became a museum around the time of the United States Bi-Centennial in 1776. It was at that time that it started to be known as The Spy House. The term is credited as being coined by a former curator named Gertrude Neidlinger ,who would give public tours of the house and its hodge-podge of various artifacts of supposedly historical significance. Gertrude, an elderly woman who, by most accounts, was a colorful character with a vivid imagination, would spin yarns of the house’s past, weaving in threads of ghosts and espionage as she walked visitors around the museum. Though most historians today bristle at the tales she told, they will admit that Neidlinger’s narratives gained quite a bit of attention for the house in the public’s eye. Current day preservationist will concede that she may be at least partially responsible for the fact that the Seabrook-Wilson Homestead still exists today.

Whether true or not, the ghost stories that began to circulate about the Spy House soon became the primary focus of the homestead’s appeal, much to the chagrin of the local historians. Nonetheless, visitors often reported seeing ghostly apparitions, either while in the house or through windows from the outside. Paranormal investigations were conducted, often resulting in persuasive evidence of alleged other worldly activity. Articles were written by notable paranormal experts, some of which would dub the Spy House “The most haunted house in America.”

Soon the Spy House, as it was then most commonly known, stopped allowing the public in for tours. This only further fueled the ghost hunters’ beliefs that officials were trying to cover up the paranormal presence within its walls. During its closure the Monmouth County Park Commission removed all the items once displayed at the house and stripped the interior to the bear timbers in an overall effort to restore the building to its original appearance circa the Seabrook’s era. The Seabrook-Wilson Homestead in now once again open to the public, displaying exhibits of verifiable historical significance––a sort of time capsule of Middletown’s history. But what of the ghosts of the old Spy House, were they too swept away with the odd bric-a-brac that was removed from the building? Some think not, and believe that while you may be able to clean out an old house, that doesn’t mean that you have cleansed it of its ghostly inhabitants. At this time the spectral future of the former Spy House remains to be seen.

Weird NJ readers share stories of their own ghostly encounters at the Spy House…

Spy House Ghost Boy

One morning my friend Dave’s parents went to visit the old Spy House Museum in Port Monmouth. They were there at the appointed opening time but the curator wasn’t there. After about a half hour of waiting they said “the hell with it,” and left. As they were getting back into their car, my friend’s father looked up and pointed out a kid about 10 or12-years-old, looking at them from the upstairs window. His dad said that the kid had on one of those puffy shirts that they used to wear in the old days.

As they watched, he slowly backed away from the window. Just then the curator drove up and apologized for being late. They told her that they had seen a young boy in the upstairs window. She said no one is supposed to be in there. She opened the house up and together they searched the place, but found no one. –Ray

The Ghosts Keep Rocking at the Spy House

On the way back from a very fun day at the water park in Keansburg, my dad decided to show my sister and myself the Spy House. When we got there we looked into the windows. It was extremely dark inside, and everything was locked. When we made it to the left side of the house my dad noticed something moving inside the house. I just shrugged it off as nothing, but then when I was looking in the same upstairs window I noticed that the rocking chair moved!

I was scanning all the windows to see if I could see anything else unusual, and I clearly saw a man sitting in a rocking chair reading. It couldn’t have been a ranger because he was wearing old clothes and was sitting in the dark, reading, in a locked up house. We snapped a picture and ran, and as we pulled away, a ranger pulled up and unlocked the doors, so we assume it must have been a ghost. –Ali

The Spy House, or rather the Seabrook-Wilson Homestead, is located on Port Monmouth Road, in Port Monmouth, and is home to the Bayshore Waterfront Park Activity Center.

Weird NJ visits the Spy House. Video by Brian Johnston.

We are very proud to announce the release of Weird NJ’s very first true eBook, “Home State Hauntings: True Stories of Ghostly Places in New Jersey” for your iPad, Kindle and Nook tablets.

Photos ©Weird NJ/Mark Moran, illustration by Ryan Doan (www.ryandoan.com).

He’s been a familiar roadside fixture to motorist traveling along Route 35 in Middletown since 1956, but the brightly colored clown known as “Calico” has such a beguiling look about him that drivers still scratch their heads in wonderment at the sight of him. The 30-foot-tall steel sign, which once rotated on a motorized spindle, was originally built to advertise Joseph Azzolina’s Food Circus store (the predecessor to today’s Foodtown supermarket chain). The giant clown’s slyly sinister grin and blood-red tipped index finger have earned it the nickname the “Evil Clown of Middletown” in popular culture. The moniker was perhaps first coined by local author Doug Kirby, of Roadside America fame, who grew up in the area and remembers marveling at the odd icon from an early age.

For many years now the former Food Circus market has been reappointed as a liquor store, so the once obvious conceptual connection of the clown character has long since been lost. Today nobody is really sure just what local sign painter Leslie Worth Thomas, of the Road Ad Sign Company, was thinking when he dreamt up the image of the of sneering harlequin, which seems to be waging his finger disapprovingly at passing cars. If in fact it is a finger at all––some have speculated that it is actually either an ice cream cone or a cigar. In any case, chances are we will never know for certain, as Leslie Thomas died in 2003 at the age of 90, leaving us with not just one, but two enigmatically smiling New Jersey faces to ponder. The other one being the manically grinning visage of Tillie, which once gazed down from the façade of the Palace Amusements building in Asbury Park.

Clown images such as Calico and Tillie have a long history of being employed as advertising vehicles for popular shore attractions. The closest clown kin to Calico is undoubtedly the Circus Drive-In restaurant clown in Wall Township, which features an equally deranged character on its roadside sign, while Coney Island and Atlantic City both featured Tillie-like faces on their boardwalk amusements piers. According to Bob Crane of the Save Tillie Foundation, Tillie, with his swooping hairdo and Cheshire-cat grin, was originally inspired by the image known as the Steeplechase fun face, which first appeared at Coney Island in 1897. The image glared out from the glass facade of Steeplechase Park, was used as a symbol on rides, on tickets and as an advertising logo until the 1964 closure and ultimate demolition of Steeplechase Park.

The Asbury Park image, which Thomas painted around 1950, is related to the Steeplechase face by stylistic similarities, but much more. The name “Tillie” is shorthand for Tilyou, the family name of the father of Coney Island’s amusement park, George Cornelius Tilyou. Furthermore, there are strong familial resemblances between Tillie and the photographs of George C. Tilyou and his brother, Edward J. Tilyou, who may have been the model for the caricature. Prior to his death, Thomas confessed that he could not remember whether he designed the face himself or if Tillie’s likeness was supplied by the client, Central Amusement Corp. of Asbury Park. Almost certainly though, whoever designed Tillie intended it to be an homage to the Steeplechase fun face, mimicking the image as closely as possible without upsetting the Tilyous (who were known to threaten legal actions against copycats––even though the Steeplechase Park image was never protected by a trademark.)

The Evil Clown has not always been popular with some residents of Middletown, especially when years of exposure to the elements had faded the once bold primary colors of Calico to drab aged pastel hues. There was a period in the early 2000’s when it seemed as if the sign was doomed to be dismantled, as a new “town center” development plan threatened its existence. Ultimately though, the project was shelved and today the clown still stands tall, looking just as menacing as ever. The original Food Circus site is now home to Spirits Unlimited and also the corporate headquarters of Food Circus Super Markets, which continues to own and operate locations in the area. In the spring of 2011 Joseph Azzolina Jr. had the clown cleaned, renovated and repainted, and vowed to preserve the Evil Clown as a unique symbol of Middletown pride. These days most Middletownians have embraced old Calico with a kind of nostalgic fondness as the town’s unofficial mascot, just as Tillie has stayed an enduring symbol of Asbury Park, even nearly a decade after the demolition of the Palace Amusements building.

The North Shrewsbury (Navesink) River is one of the most scenic estuaries on the Eastern Coast of America. Known for luxury yachts, stately homes, and iceboating, it is hardly the place you would expect to find the legend of a sea serpent. But, in the late nineteenth century it was the location of one of many well-documented and unexplained sightings of mysterious sea creatures that plagued the waters of the North Atlantic.

The creature in question was seen by several people, all who were familiar with local sea life. While returning from a daylong outing, Marcus P. Sherman, Lloyd Eglinton, Stephen Allen and William Tinton, all of Red Bank, encountered the monster. The Red Bank Register reported the witnesses to be sober and respectable local merchants.

At around 10:00 P.M. the yacht Tillie S., owned by Sherman, was making its way back to Red Bank after a picnic at Highlands Beach. The men had enjoyed a pleasant Sunday evening escaping the warm early summer weather. The moon was shining bright, providing for high visibility as the yacht cut through the water. A stiff summer breeze was blowing and they rounded the Highlands and headed toward Red Bank. At the tiller of the Tillie S., Marcus Sherman steered through the familiar waters. At the bow was Lloyd Eglinton, who kept watch for debris in the water ahead.

Artist’s rendition of the mysterious sea creature as it appeared in the December, 1887 edition of Scientific American.

Suddenly Eglinton yelled that there was something in the water dead ahead. Sherman steered “hard to port” to avoid the collision. As they looked to see what the obstacle was, they were shocked. There ahead of them was the Sandy Hook Sea Serpent that had been sighted many times over the preceding two years. So credible were the sightings of the Serpent two years earlier, that Scientific American had run an article issuing an opinion that the monster was in fact a Giant Squid. The article, complete with drawings, appeared in the December 27, 1887, edition of the prestigious scientific periodical.

The earlier sighting at Sandy Hook had been made by several credible witnesses. Most notably the members of the Sandy Hook Life Saving Service. The crewmembers had sighted a large monster in the cold waters just off Sandy Hook in November 1879. The sighting was so credible that scientists were dispatched to take statements. It is from these descriptive statements that it was determined the Sandy Hook Sea Monster was, in fact, a giant squid. For the next several years there were reports of all types of sea serpent sightings up and down the east Atlantic Coast.

Illustration by Ryan Doan.

What the Red Bank men saw was surely no giant squid. It was described as about 50-foot long and serpentine in shape. It swam with snakelike undulations slowly and steadily through the water. As it passed halfway past the bow, its head rose from the water giving forth a mighty roar. The head was described as small and somewhat resembling a bulldog’s in shape. It had two short rounded horns on its head just above its eyes. The eyes we said to be the size of silver dollars. Bristles adorned the upper lip of the monster, much like those that would be found on a cat. The beast’s nostrils were quite large and flattened. The serpent-like body tapered to a sword like pointed tail. The frightened men stared in disbelief as it slowly and leisurely swam toward the shore of Hartshorne’s Cove. As the monster disappeared into the night, the men made their way back to Red Bank with a monster of a story to tell.

The men of the Tillie S. were not the only ones to see the creature. Other boaters on the water saw the serpent and gave near identical descriptions. In all over a dozen boaters had seen the strange creature on his nocturnal swim. Over the next months and years there would be other sightings of the monster in the Navesink. In time it came to be known as the Shrewsbury Sea Serpent. No scientific explanation was ever given for the sightings, as had been done for the so-called Sandy Hook Sea Serpent, however the description is not totally without merit. Other than the size, the description is very similar to that of the Oarfish. In any case the mystery remains as to the true identity and fate of the Sea Serpent.

The preceding article  by Robert Heyer is featured in issue #43 Weird NJ magazine.

Located in the wood on the outskirts of Pinewald, near Cedar Creek, can be found the mysterious ruins of a hacienda-style dwelling that has come to be known in local lore as The Spanish Mansion. Today all that remains of the once opulent home are a few crumbling concrete archways, shrouded by intertwining thorn bush tendrils and poison ivy vines. The actual name of the property was Cedar Crest and was once the home of B.W. Sangor, who developed Pinewald in the early 20^th Century. But whenever the Spanish Mansion is brought up in conversation, someone will inevitably chime in with the rumors of Al Capone running an illegal liquor operation at the site. Most people who are familiar with the area seem to enjoy hearing and passing on these stories, but generally dismiss them as works of fiction. Well, it turns out that there might be a legitimate reason for the property’s association with the mob after all.

This photo came from a pamphlet entitled, “Pinewald Becons,” published by the B.W. Sangor Company in 1926. Photo courtesy of the Berkeley Township Historical Society.

B.W. Sangor was a close friend and business associate of Harry Donenfeld. This is the same Harry Donenfeld who at one point owned Detective Comics (DC). Donenfeld had ties within the New York mob community and reputedly engaged in a number of illegal activities, including running booze during Prohibition. Sangor was crooked as well and did time in the state slammer for embezzlement and larceny. I’ve never seen direct evidence of it, but I think that it is highly likely that Donenfeld visited Cedar Crest on one or more occasions. Given the friendship and business relationship between these two men it’s possible that Cedar Crest really was used to produce or stash alcohol during Prohibition. Now, obviously that’s a far cry from the locally circulated rumors of mob assassins burning bodies at the site, or a rat’s maze of tunnels being located beneath Pinewald’s sandy soil, but Sangor’s association with Donenfeld definitely lends a little credence to some of the mob rumors.

Most of the mob rumors about the Spanish Mansion, however, involve Al Capone. So, did Capone ever set foot in Pinewald? I’d say the likelihood of that hinges on whether or not Harry Donenfeld, and possibly B.W. Sangor by extension had any verifiable ties with Capone’s branch of the mob. It is also worth noting that the Spanish Mansion is not the only location in the area that is said to have ties to Capone, the former Royal Pines Hotel in nearby Bayville has long be rumored to have once been a favorite haunt of Scarface (http://weirdnj.com/stories/al-capone-royal-pines-hotel). As far as I’ve been able to determine though, Donenfeld’s contacts were solely with the NY mob, and not Chicago. However, as it is said, there is a kernel of truth at the core of every legend. I often wonder if the locals of the day were confusing Donenfeld for Capone. In the meantime, I continue to look for more evidence.

The preceding article by Neil Slowikan is an excerpt from issue #43 of Weird NJ magazine, which is available in bookstores and on newsstands throughout the state.

Photos ©Weird NJ/Mark Moran

(Please note: The last day to place an order for Christmas delivery is Friday December 19th. To place your Weird NJ order please go to our shopping cart or visit our Amazon Store. Thanks for another wonderfully weird year!)

Holiday Horrors in Kendall Park

Check out New Road in South Brunswick between Rt. 27 and Rt.1. You already know about the Rocking Horse House at New and Sturgis Rd, but if you pass it going towards Rt. 1 there is something even stranger. The second house past the fire station on the right is 141 New Rd. They have a sick Christmas display – skeletons and other grotesque figures dressed in Santa costumes! I caught sight of a sign but only read the word “Haunted” before I passed. It is definitely a Christmas display, not Halloween.

The Rocking Horse House looks even more bizarre right now with some Christmas stuff and old plastic crates mixed in. In between it and the display mentioned above is a house with hundreds of plastic Christmas figurines evenly spaced on the lawn. I guess it’s supposed to be Santa’s workshop, but it looks weird the way everything’s spread out and not grouped together.  –Lisa Burns

Monsters Like Presents, Too!

Tom and Carolyn Dardani sure know how to dress up the home for the holidays. And why not? Their home in Monmouth Junction is known affectionately as “The Halloween House.” The Dardanis run the annual Dardani Haunted Trail in nearby Woodlot Park. The event is run by over 200 volunteers during the Halloween season. This is a picture of a display the Dardanis did a few years ago. Who knows what will be lurking on their lawn this holiday!

Flag Waving Santa

While driving down Route 206 near the Morris/Somerset boundary, I saw what looked like a Santa Claus sitting on a bench on the opposite end of the pond. To make things stranger, the Santa was holding an American Flag on a pole. I pulled into the park and walked over. The Santa suit was stuffed full of snow, but the hat and boots, even the beard were there. As usual I had my camera with me, so I snapped a few shots of this weird winter display of patriotism. –Doug Keating

Pitman Billboard Says “Keep the Saturn in Saturnalia”

WNJ reader DWS reports that, “In Pitman, a rivalry has been going on since 2011 between religious people who want to “Keep Christ in Christmas” and the Freedom From Religion Foundation who reminds people to ‘Keep Saturn in Saturnalia’. Where lats year the FFRF simply hung a banner at the ‘Welcome to Pitman’ sign, this year they escalated matters by purchasing a billboard at West Holly Avenue and Lambs Road.” Read the FULL STORY…

Sat·ur·na·li·a [sat-er-ney-lee-uh, -neyl-yuh]
1. The festival of Saturn, celebrated in December in ancient Rome as a time of unrestrained merrymaking.
2. Unrestrained revelry; orgy.

Santa of the Apocalypse

I spied this intriguing Yuletide decoration, which I immediately dubbed “The Fourth Santa of the Apocalypse,” while in my travels in the little burg of Spotswood.  My take on all of this is that it stays up year ’round and is dressed to fit in with the current holiday.  I’ll keep you posted with any additional information I come up with. –Tom, the gutless wonder

Ridgefield Water Company

Here are some pics from the Ridgewood Water Co. property in Midland Park, along Godwin Avenue. It’s a park-like atmosphere filled with about 100 painted wooden character cut-outs. They put it up every Christmas and it looks worse every year. Many of the characters are broken and in desperate need of a paint job. I took my kids to show them, and even they said, “This is weird, let’s get out of here!” –John Arehart

Skela Claus

Here is a picture of a Santa located on Berkshire Valley Road in Oak Ridge. –ldmarx

Mahwah: Where You’ll Never Have a Blue Christmas

This is one site everyone will have to check out. A fellow in Mahwah who makes his living as an Elvis impersonator puts on an of a Christmas House. It is rumored that so much energy is used for his Christmas lights (which cover every square inch of available horizontal and vertical space) that he has worked out a special deal with PSE&G.

The seasonal light display has become so popular that local cops are now posted in the area to direct traffic in and out of the complex where he lives, which is modeled after Graceland. Needless to say, the light display is orchestrated by recordings of elvis singing Christmas carols.

Neighbors attempting to keep up with him have tried their own garish displays but have not managed to outshine him. His display is unmistakably the loudest, in every respect.  –Jennifer Watts

Very close to Franklin Lakes, this house is on Victoria Lane off Campgaw Road in Mahwah.  We’ve been going there for at least ten years.  I understand his bill is over $2000. On some nights the Mahwah Fire Department collects donations simply by holding their helmets out to the line of slow passing cars. –RL Dean

There is a house in Mahwah, on the corner of Victoria Lane and Garden Court (off of Campgaw Road), that goes all out every Christmas. The house and property is covered in lights and there are also several lifesize figures on the roof––including Elvis Presley and Marilyn Monroe.  There is a constant caravan of cars driving through the neighborhood between Christmas and New Years…. stopping to snap pictures and catch a glimpse of this weird winter wonderland. –John Arehart

Elvis Has Left the Lights Off

The “Elvis” house has not been lit up for the last 2 years. I drove down Victoria Lane in Mahwah last Friday and the entire street had no decorated houses. I guess the recession has hit hard on that neighborhood too. –Teepag

A New Kind Of Devil’s Tree

This is a photo of our Christmas tree. We went for a whole new look. Check out the evil kids in the tree! –Michelle Lamroeaux

Satan Claus?

A friend of mine’s Daughter saw this sign a few Christmas’s ago and snapped this picture. The next day it was gone. I guess Santa isn’t the only one who makes visits in Pequannock. I grew up there and never saw anything but Santa driving around on a back of a fire truck. –Diane

The Glowing House of Elizabeth

This house is a few blocks away from my house in Elizabeth. What makes it even more absurd is that the neighborhood has predominately smaller and slightly shabby older homes. The owners demolished a run down Victorian to build this modern day vision. It’s a spectacular display of Weird NJ Xmas excess!  –Gina B.

100,000 Points of Light in Clifton

Our house is covered literally…leaving an opening for the door with over 100,000 lights and life-sized animated display figures! Most people think it is pretty darn weird! Please stop by and check it out! –Mark Carfora, 76 Arthur Street, Clifton

Santa’s Barn at the Land of Make Believe

The Land of Make Believe on Route 611 in Hope, Warren County was established in 1954 is really more of a kiddie ride and water park than it is a fairy tale theme park. Still, the site does possess enough quirky surprises to warrant its mention in this chapter. The first of these surprises was the big red barn and accompanying silo with Santa’s face painted on it. This was called (appropriately enough) “Santa’s Barn.” Mind you, we visited here in the middle of August during a killer heat wave, so already this seemed out of place. Inside the barn visitors are encouraged to crouch down and walk through a “magic fireplace,” then up the chimney to visit Santa Claus himself. My daughter was petrified and would have no part of this, so I went up the flue alone.

When I emerged on the second floor of the barn I found myself in a dark, cavernous, dream-like winter wonderland. The loft of the barn was all decked out with cotton snow, fake elves and reindeer, Christmas trees and candy canes. The only light came from the tiny colored Christmas bulbs, which were strung along a walkway, and the whole place was eerily quiet. The temperature was well over 100 degrees.

As I made my way across the nightmarish North Pole landscape I came to a full-sized log cabin, and peaked around its corner. There, sitting all alone on the front porch was Santa, the big man himself, all done up in his red suit, white beard and shiny black boots. At first I thought that he must have been a mannequin or maybe some sort of robotic Kris Kringle, but then I saw the portable fan on the floor blowing full force to cool the not so jolly guy off. I didn’t know what to say, I felt really creepy being all alone in a sweltering barn loft in August with some guy dressed as Old St. Nick. “Hey Santa,” I said, “mind if I take your picture?”

Just then I heard the terrified screams of a small child echoing through the gloomy recesses of the barn. As it turned out, my little girl decided to come looking for me and freaked out during her journey up the chimney. “Gotta go Santa” I said, then rushed off. –Mark M.

GHOSTS OF CHRISTMAS PAST: HOLIDAY DISPLAYS FROM DAYS OF YORE

GONE: Away in a Manger in Belleville

This holiday season don’t forget to stop by Charlie Auriemma’s Christmas display on Mt. Prospect St. in Belleville. Charlie, an electrical contractor by trade, decorates his side yard each year with a manger scene complete with live sheep, calves, and even a camel. There is also a Santa’s workshop where robotic elves toil away powered by an electrical on/off switch that you control!

Visit the Weird NJ AMAZON STORE for all of your holiday gift giving needs – with just one click!

GONE: Still Dreaming of a Pink Christmas in Metuchen

Gracie Knox, the “Pink Lady of Metuchen” has been enjoying her pink paradise for over 70 years. Weird NJ visited Ms. Knox Gracie she invited us into her century-old home, where we sat ensconced in pink pile carpet and pink plastic-covered furniture. On that day she was preparing her outfit and convertible Cadillac El Dorado (one of her two luxury pink and white rides) for the town’s annual Memorial Day parade. Christmas is the time when Gracie’s Sheridan Road estate really shines though—shiny pink, of course! Gracie died in 2009 and her house was torn down this past year.

GONE: The Robot Elves of the Fountains of Wayne

Dear Weird NJ: I’ve been visiting Totowa on business about once a month since August. While there last week I saw something that was really weird to me. I stopped at the Fountains of Wayne aka Christmas Emporium on Route 46 for something to do on my lunch hour. As I was shopping, I saw that they had a Christmas Animitronics Display upstairs. Of course, I had to go up and take a peek.

They have various vignettes set up such as Santa’s Pizzeria, Santa at the Jersey Shore, Santa in the Rain Forest, etc. The display looks like it was set up in the 50’s and has never been changed. Each vignette is full of the animated dolls that are all moving in the same hypnotic way. They look like they are possessed and were truly creepy. You really need to see it. Then when I told someone about it, they told me to go up 46 to Fairfield Gardens and see the Ice Caverns. Off I went. This one was a bit newer, but there was one Santa that looked like a blow up sex doll. –Vivaletta

HO HO HO…Look deeply into Santa’s eyes…HO HO HO!

Displayed annually for many years at the private home of the Camuso family on Burnett Hill Road in Livingston, this massive collection of Christmas decorations is now part of a seasonal township display. There are robotic figures, cartoon characters, wooden soldiers, a giant tree and all other manner of holiday ephemera. Mr. Camuso passed away a few years ago and bequeathed the collection to the town, which presents it each year at Memorial Park on South Livingston Avenue.

Do you have a story of a weird holiday display that you’d like to share? If you do then please e-mail us at: Editor@WeirdNJ.com

Remember, this year, give the Gift of Weirdness to someone you love with a Weird NJ, subscription, a gift subscription, T-shirt, hat, back issue or book. Happy Holidays everybody from your friends Mark & Mark at Weird NJ!

(Please note: The last day to place an order for Christmas delivery is Friday December 19th. To place your Weird NJ order please go to our shopping cart or visit our Amazon Store. Thanks for another wonderfully weird year!)

Nestled in a quiet Pleasantville neighborhood, just outside of Atlantic City, is an amazing architectural marvel dreamed up and created in an ever-evolving fashion by a gentleman named Mr. Wilberforce Sylvester. He has created an ongoing mural of scenes that completely surround his home and that, according to him, “reflect passages of everyday life.”

Mural scenes include local highways complete with a traffic stop that features police issuing a ticket to a motorist, trains passing by, musicians, boxers, a bullfight, soldiers in desert conflicts, the sinking of the Titanic, and the incident when Steve Irwin held his baby while a hungry crocodile snapped its jaws below. Soon to come are more multidimensional renditions that will be “open to interpretation.”

This meticulously decorated masterpiece has been Mr. Sylvester’s home for over thirty five years. The home was much smaller when he first began to build upon his textured designs, but he’s added to the house over the years, and will not be running out of room for his designs soon. And as union bricklayer for over three decades, he knows what he’s doing. Working through improvisation, he etches and paints the cement as the ideas come to him. In addition to the murals, he’s also created symmetrical arrangements of brickwork in brilliant colors that highlight and balance the structural components bordering each window and door, which in turn separate the murals.

He has also expanded his creation by sculpting a giraffe in the back yard on a smaller structure. And keeping in theme with the proximity of the property to the shore, he created a functional lighthouse in his driveway that serves as a beacon during the darker hours and matches the detail on his house.

A handy artisan with a trowel, Mr. Sylvester is not planning on concluding his decorative efforts any time soon. When he feels the time is right, he will use more bricks and pick his vision to “build and create.”

In addition to his brilliant talent for painting scenes from real life, he also crafts melodies that are rather catchy, as I found myself humming one of his original tunes a few days later. His songs are about the local political scene in Atlantic City. He minces no words, and in a bluesy, island-style of songwriting, gets the point across in his somewhat polished production. “Let’s Say a Prayer for Atlantic City.”

Every once in a rare while I meet someone who is a positive and impressive personality, and Mr. Sylvester is one of those people. Coming to New Jersey from his homeland in Jamaica, he has a gentle, easygoing style that was readily apparent as soon as I began to talk to him. Despite being quiet in person, he is outspoken with both his visual and musical work.

Mr. Sylvester is very proud of his work. People have come from several states away to see his amazing creations, and his art has been featured in several publications. As I sat and spoke with him, I was grateful to have been let into his private world to find out the story behind the man and his works. When you pull up a chair with someone like him, it is not a moment you will soon forget: A priceless moment with one of New Jersey’s unique artisans. – Wizard343

The preceding article on an excerpt from issue #29 of Weird NJ magazine, “Your Travel Guide to New Jersey’s Local Legends and Best Kept Secrets.”

Photos ©Weird NJ / Wizard 343 and Mark Moran

One of the most unique, and downright bizarre roadside attractions to be found in New Jersey is surprisingly not the work of some eccentric with too much spare time on his hands. It’s actually a federally funded work of public statuary entitled “Light Dispelling Darkness,” which can be found in Roosevelt Park in Edison.

The sculpture is a fountain designed in 1937 by artist Waylande Gregory (1905 –1971), an accomplisher ceramic sculptor who gained notoriety through his commissioned works for prominent individuals such as Albert Einstein. His was best known for creating some of the largest ceramic sculptures in America, including the “Fountain of the Atom” for 1939 New York World’s Fair. In 1933, Gregory had moved form Michigan to Metuchen, New Jersey and set up a workshop in the Atlantic Terra Cotta Company in Perth Amboy. Terra cotta was a large industry in New Jersey at the time, being produced in Woodbridge and Sayreville as well as Perth Amboy.

Gregory became the head of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s W.P.A. (Works Progress Administration) Sculpture Project in New Jersey and this is where he would create some of his first monumental ceramic sculptures and began work on the monumental Light Dispelling Darkness. The W.P.A. was part of a federal program designed to create jobs during the Great Depression. The sculpture also honors the achievements of local inventor Thomas Edison, who triumphed over darkness with the creation of the electric light bulb.

Light Dispelling Darkness exhibits a heroic theme of combating the darkness of evil through the enlightenment of knowledge. The central pillar of the fountain depicts images of education, industry, and technology in a bold deco relief style, and supports a globe of the Earth that is finished in a beautiful hand-painted glaze, rising from the center of a 40-foot diameter pool.

Where the work really takes a turn toward the surreal though is on the six arched viaducts that buttress the fountain’s base. They radiate from the center pillar, each depicting the “dispelling” of one horrific looking evil of society in brilliantly glazed terra cotta sculptures. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are represented, who, according to the Old Testament shall scourge the Earth prior to Judgment Day. The additional two sculptures represent Greed and Materialism.

War is shown as a Trojan soldier on horseback carrying a shield emblazoned with a skull and wearing a WWI gas mask. Famine, a cadaverous woman with deep sunken eyes who carries the scales of justice. Pestilence is depicted as a lustful blue character covered in festering yellow sores and riding a horse with a dollar sign on its hindquarters. Materialism is represented by a serpent-like creature, which possesses five grotesque human faces and is trailing a ribbon of Stock Market ticker tape. Greed is portrayed by two hideous, yet beautifully detailed, octopi writhing in battle with each other. Death is rendered as a scythe-wielding skeleton riding a lightning bolt.

Gregory achieved critical success and reached the peak of his artistic powers in the 1930s. After 1940, he no longer created monumental ceramic sculptures, but instead focused on production porcelains for leading retail stores such as Tiffany’s, B. Altman and Company, Saks Fifth Avenue, Hammacher Schlemmer and others. He revisited Roosevelt Park later in his life in 1968, three years prior to his death, and was dismayed by the deterioration he observed of one of his greatest creations. Since the material used to form Light Dispelling Darkness was terra cotta (a fragile medium not often employed for outdoor works such as this), many of the brightly colored details of the statue had been lost to the elements or vandalism over the years. By the early 2000s parts of the once magnificent sculpture were chipped or missing altogether.

A major restoration effort was undertaken in 2005 by the Middlesex County Parks Department and County Cultural and Heritage Commission, with support from the National Endowment for the Arts as part of Save Outdoor Sculpture!, a joint project of Heritage Preservation and the Smithsonian American Art Museum and Target Stores.

According to a plaque posted in the park afterward, the County Engineer “coordinated the restoration efforts with a Team of Professional engineers and artists using historic photographs, models and written information from the estate of Waylande Gregory, the County followed the artist’s original water and lighting design concepts and restored the fountain to its intended glory.” This is unfortunately not completely the case, however. While it is wonderful to see the water feature once again intermittently operational, and the globe partially restored, the workmanship on the terra cotta figures leaves much to be desired. The once brilliantly glaze of sculptures has been replaced in many places by drab, poorly rendered pastel colored touch-up paint. Perhaps though, there would be no means short of removing each figure and re-glazing and re-firing it that could revive their original luminescence.

In its day, with water streaming from its pedestal and cascading over its grotesquely evil cast of characters, Light Dispelling Darkness must have been quite a sight to behold. Though it may not be the glorious work that it once was, it is the only remaining outdoor sculpture from the New Jersey branch of the W.P.A. that is still in existence today. Its inspirationally optimistic view of the future, created in the depths our nation’s most desperate depression by a visionary artist, makes a powerful statement for the effect that public art can have in our daily lives. And it’s also pretty darn weird.

Weird NJ magazine, “Your Travel Guide to New Jersey’s Local Legends and Best Kept Secrets,” can be found on newsstands throughout the state and can be ordered online through our shopping cart or our Amazon Store.

Photos by Mark Moran.

For nearly nine decades now the weather beaten remains of a ship have lain just a few hundred feet beyond the breaking surf of Sunset Beach in historic Cape May. Although the Jersey coast has become a bone-yard of sorts for seafaring vessels over the years, this ship has the distinction of being a one-of-a-kind wreck known as the S.S. Atlantus, a concrete ship. It is a poignant monument to dubious engineering and ill-conceived ideas in general.

The notion of the concrete ship must have seemed to have some validity toward the end of World War I. Shortages of steel made it necessary to find low cost alternative materials for ships that could serve as a troop and supply transports. The federal government, under the guidance of President Woodrow Wilson, invited Norseman N.K. Fougner to head a study into the feasibility of concrete ships when their earlier experiments with other natural resources failed. In a few years, and numerous prototypes later, the United States Shipping Board rolled out the first of 12 concrete ships, S.S. Atlantus, in 1918. The freighter weighed 3,000 tons, measures 250-feet long and was built with a 5-inch thick hull of special concrete aggregate. The freighter was launched on November 21st of the same year, in Wilmington, North Carolina.

Sadly, because they were too slow and not actually cost effective, the great hopes for the concrete fleet were to be dashed before they were ever really realized. With the end of the war, steel was once again readily available and the more efficient steel ships were back in production. The “Concrete Fleet” was de-commissioned and the S.S. Atlantus was sent to a ship graveyard in Virginia.

Then in 1926 an entrepreneurial-minded man by the name of Colonel Desse Rosenfeld of Baltimore decided to give the Atlantus another chance. He had always dreamt of a ferry service between Cape May and Lewes, Delaware, and was able to convince some unwitting residents of Cape May County to invest large sums of money in his concrete ship scheme. Rosenfeld had the Atlantus towed up to Cape May from Virginia to Cape May to be used as the ferry landing. But while she was awaiting positioning the ship broke loose of her offshore moorings during a storm and ran aground where she rests today. Although several attempts were made to free her––all proved unsuccessful. In 1937 a seam ripped open in the giant ship’s stony hull, and in 1961 she split into two parts. At that time her stern disappearing beneath the water’s surface forever.

The seamen who once served on the ships of the concrete fleet had an apt nickname for these vessels—they called them “floating tombstones.” Today the one of these tombstones can still be seen just beyond the crashing surf of Cape May Point––it just isn’t floating anymore.

Weird NJ magazine, “Your Travel Guide to New Jersey’s Local Legends and Best Kept Secrets,” can be found on newsstands throughout the state and can be ordered online through our shopping cart or our Amazon Store. 

Weird NJ photos by Mark Moran.

Traveling by a dark graveyard or cemetery at night can be a frightening thing, especially when the imagination comes into play and every crack of a stick or gust of wind lends the passer-by to think something more nefarious is afoot. Add to the experience something that’s truly out of sorts, and it can be downright frightening. Take, for example, a frequently reported odd phenomena seen in graveyards and cemeteries: the mysterious light or glowing grave. You can see it, usually from a point just outside of the burial ground affected, and like any other unexpected things, you feel scared, confused, or curious: maybe a little of all three. You don’t know what it is, but it just feels wrong.

The Bay View Cemetery in Middletown possesses one such mysterious lighting phenomena and because if the graveyard has come to be known in local lore as the “Green Light Cemetery.” A number of people have written to Weird NJ over the years about the strange illumination that gave it that name: a mysterious green light that appeared above the cemetery’s tree line. One story behind it involves a caretaker who lived in a house behind the cemetery. He died, and each night his ghost would light a green lantern as a beacon to help the spirits — who never seem to be good with directions — find their way. To where, we don’t know.

Weird NJ visited the Green Light Cemetery with reader Laura Poll, who said she once saw the green light herself in the cemetery, though it did not show itself on our visit with her. A few years later, Paul Erol, who grew up in the area, wrote the magazine and said that he “Could see the Green Light from the second story window of my home. It would take a while, but I could always find it through the trees.”

Paul grew up knowing a different story about the light’s origin.

“If you walk through the cemetery at night,” he wrote, “You will find the green light in the hills. There is a gate around a tower that swings open, and once you pass though it, the light turns red, the gates close, and the evil of the light does unspeakable things.”

Paul could see the light from his room until 1989, and its disappearance was mystifying until he’d learn a few years later that the light source, “May have been an old lighthouse that sat up in the hill, buried in the woods behind the cemetery.” Even that was cause for wonder, because it wasn’t clear who was keeping the beacon lit (and the story going) up until that point. He and friends located the lighthouse one night in 1993, after driving away from the cemetery and further uphill along King’s Highway, near a housing development that was at a higher elevation. The lighthouse looked, Paul said, a lot like a similar, but abandoned lighthouse “On the shore of the Leonardo beach.” People he spoke with in the community said both “were (once) used to help boats in the bay to find the shore.” The lighthouse closer to the cemetery became irrelevant when nearby trees grew tall enough to obscure it from the shoreline.

Paul visited the lighthouse again some time around 1995, but was surprised to see it had been taken down. He’d later learn that its removal caused “a bit of a stir among the older people of the town who thought it had some historical relevance.”

My Quest for the Source of the Green Light

Hosford Avenue, in the Chapel Hill section of Middletown, aka Beacon Hill, is a very unassuming and quiet area. Going virtually unnoticed along the road, nestled in the woods at the bottom of a large hill, lies the Bay View Cemetery––which is more commonly known is local mythology as “Green Light Cemetery”.

In the evening, it’s an eerie setting, especially when the trees are devoid of leaves. Driving up Hosford Avenue, darkened by the absence of street lights, a short distance beyond a bend in the road, the graveyard comes into view, blanketed by an eerie green light which emanates through the trees from the hill above. If anyone tries to search for the source of the light, they will be forever consumed by the forest surrounding the cemetery…or so the legend goes.

Having heard the mysterious tale for most of my life, I decided to do some research on green light a few years back and found that the proper name of the lighthouse wass the Chapel Hill Lighthouse, which was erected in 1856, and was a rear range light. It worked with the Conover Beacon on the shore of Sandy Hook Bay at Leonardo. Together, the lights marked the Main Channel Range into Sandy Hook Bay. This is one of six little lighthouses, four along the bayshore in Keansburg and Middletown, and two on Staten Island. They were built to help ships navigate through the deep-water channels and avoid the shallow waters that might have stranded them in the bays. When the two lights appeared to line up (the one on the hill and the one at the shoreline), it was a signal to ships in the bays that they were safely navigating in deep enough waters.

I was recently in that area at night and decided to drive past the cemetery just for old time’s sake. It had been quite some time since I had first been to Green Light Cemetery and this time land development aided in my quest to find its source, as new subdivisions there have cut many new roads into the hills behind the cemetery. As I traveled along Hosford Avenue to the top of the hill and turned left on Kings Highway East, I found myself above the cemetery. But alas, the Light is no longer casting it eerie green blanket upon the cemetery. I guess all “cool” things must unfortunately come to an end. –Dr. A. J. DeVivo

Weird NJ magazine, “Your Travel Guide to New Jersey’s Local Legends and Best Kept Secrets,” can be found on newsstands throughout the state and can be ordered online through our shopping cart or our Amazon Store.

 Photos ©Weird NJ / Mark Moran, Illustration by Ryan Doan (www.RyanDoan.com)

The campus of Georgian Court University in Lakewood, a Catholic institution with a focus on women’s education, is the former estate of George Jay Gould, son of railroad baron Jay Gould. In 1896, Gould bought property in Lakewood, touted for its “health benefits,” and hired architect Bruce Prince to design an estate as a second home. Gould, with his wife Edith Kingdon and their six children, enjoyed the mansion they called “Georgian Court” (after its Georgian-period architectural style) for many years. After Gould’s death, his relatives sold the property to the Sisters of Mercy, who founded Georgian Court College in 1924.

The estate, which remains much as it did when it was in the care of the Goulds, is complete with a Casino building, a bowling alley, tennis and squash courts, a swimming pool, and a ballroom. It is surrounded by 152 acres of planned landscape and lush gardens.

Rumors suggest that underground tunnels connect Georgian Court’s various buildings and were used by Mr. Gould to help him engage in secretive extramarital affairs. True? Maybe—perhaps Edith Kingdon Gould happened upon a tunnel entrance and couldn’t recover from the shock when she died on the estate’s golf course in 1921. But those are not the only unusual stories that are told of the grand old estate turned college. There are also said to be a number of unexplainable, otherworldly phenomena that have been witnessed on the grounds of the campus.

Weird NJ readers share some of their tales of spooky sightings at Georgian Court…

The Blue Light Special at Georgian Court

As a former journalist (two years with the Asbury Park Press and a half a year with the Ocean County Observer), I’m used to being kind of skeptical. But there is a hell of a story at Georgian Court College.

There’s a legend that for every mistress Gould had, he would dedicate a statue to her. This man must have been the predecessor to Hefner, because the grounds are LITTERED with them. Oh yeah – and the place is haunted. Again, skeptical believer, me. But there are several stories that circulate about ‘the tree’ –– one that I can corroborate. The infamous tree is sectioned off from the campus in a rather unique way. It’s in the middle of an athletic field with nothing around it. It’s gated off by wrought iron and is bent at a strange angle. Legends are fun, but there are actual stories of people having seen things that don’t make sense, myself included, like red dots that come from nowhere and chase people (not like laser pointers, either).

I ran a leadership camp that has been held there for years, the Rotary Youth Leaders Academy (RYLA), and one night after a ceremony, we went out to the field to clean up. We did the ‘touch-the-tree’ dare and I laughed at the concept of being spooked. Then we got bolder. The girls all started to get creeped out, and my friend Steve and I just laughed. We went to the tree line and decided to explore to see what was back there and found a really creepy old greenhouse. Anyway, we returned and we were just walking along, when suddenly we all saw something––a bluish white flash the size of a baseball. At first I thought it was a firefly, but it was May and it wasn’t really time for fireflies to be out. I disregarded it. Then it flashed again ten feet forward. The girls saw it at this point, too. Then it disappeared and reappeared again. It stayed lit for about four seconds, more or less. I looked over at Rob and Joe, whose jaws were dropped. The girls shouted for Steve to get out of there but he just laughed and kept looking down by the ground. I kept thinking, “This looks like some kind of a bad horror movie scene. He’s gonna get killed because he’s stupid.”

The light flashed twenty feet behind him…then fifteen…ten…five. By that point, we were all shouting for him, but whenever he looked back, there was nothing there. It was at this point we heard what sounded like a child’s scream very faintly on the wind. I turned to Joe and Rob and asked them to swear on our friendship that this wasn’t a prank. Judging by their faces, when they said no, they meant it. I wasn’t scared as much as I was intrigued. We started to walk back, very much alert, all nine of us.

Suddenly we saw something out of the corner of our eyes––the blue light. It was popping in and out along a different part of the tree line. And now it was every two seconds in very different locations, not in a straight line. It was all over the place––from a foot off the ground to 45 feet up in the air. You try and tell me that’s a firefly!

Over the years, this kind of thing has happened a lot. Georgian Court’s location, in Lakewood, is significant since it was once the summer residence of a lot of bigwigs in the early 20th century. Plenty of intrigue, plenty of paranormal, and general weird happenings. –Scott Napolitano

Ghosts Come Out for a Tree Lighting

I am a longtime participant of a youth organization that holds a week-long camp at Georgian Court College each year. My job at this camp is to be the DJ and A/V guy. With this job I am constantly moving the equipment around the whole campus, sometimes late at night. You always get that chilly feeling running down your back there, even when inside the buildings. I was not much of a believer in ghosts, but after what happened last year I am not so sure.

While a professional DJ was hosting a dance for the camp, one of my friends told me that some of the participants wanted to talk to me outside. I did not think much of it and went. There was a group of about 10 people that wanted to go over to a haunted tree where a woman died in the early 1900s. I was hesitant, but agreed to go. We looked it over by touching the bark and scraping at the ground, but nothing happened.

Earlier that night we held a ceremony for the kids in the field where this tree is located, but we forgot to blow out the candles that were in the field. The group decided to go over to the candles and see if anything happened. We waited there for about a minute and all of a sudden we heard a woman’s muffled scream in the woods. The freaky thing is that I heard the same scream every year I was there, but just thought it was a cat or something. We all gasped and took a step back, but then we started to see small balls of lights in the woods. They were of all colors: blue, red, yellow, green, and pure white. We all thought of running, but we started to study the lights. We ruled out fireflies because they stay relatively close to the ground and are of a lime green-yellow color. These were of many colors and reached up to the tops of the trees.

By this time, other people came over to see what we were doing in the field (15 to 20 people were out there in total), and they immediately started to see the orbs also. We were all mesmerized. Some adventurous people walked down to the edge of the woods while I stayed back to observe. As people walked to the woods, I noticed that the orbs intensified in the general vicinity (we are talking about 30 to 50 lights in a minute’s time).

Then they would calm down, but if the same person went down again there would be no orbs, almost like whatever was causing this “knew” that person already. I finally went down to the treeline, observing the tops of the trees. As I walked down to the edge of the woods, the trees looked like there were Christmas lights on them. All of this went on for about an hour. –Ted

Legendary Infidelities at Georgian Court

Jay Gould was one of the robber barons (really, really ridiculously rich people) of the 1920s. He owned the estate that is now Georgian Court University. Legend has it that his wife Edith had a rose garden, which was her prize possession. She would spend lots of time tending to her garden because her husband was always off on “business”… with other women. When the school was built, they ripped down her precious rose garden to make St. Joseph’s Residence Hall for the students. It is said sometimes you can smell roses in the dorm and some say they see strange footprints. On very quiet nights, especially on the third floor, you can hear things go bump in the night.

There are more strange myths and legends that live on campus with the students. A legend tells us why there are so many urns on campus. If you drive around university grounds, you will see flower urns all over. Supposedly each urn on campus was given to Edith as a gift for every time she caught her husband Jay with another mistress. I counted over a hundred on campus, and I’m sure there are more.

Another myth is that there are catacombs and tunnels underneath most of campus, built so that Mr. Gould could sneak his mistresses around undetected by the Mrs. It’s said that one leads to the Casino building (which is now the gym), another to the Mansion on campus, and other various places. Currently all the passages are sealed off so no one can be hurt underground in the tunnels. Georgian Court University offers a great education and some good ghost stories to scare the freshman. –jing0k

Weird NJ magazine, “Your Travel Guide to New Jersey’s Local Legends and Best Kept Secrets,” can be found on newsstands throughout the state and can be ordered online through our shopping cart or our Amazon Store.

Photos ©Weird NJ / Ryan Doan (www.RyanDoan.com)

In the town of Lakewood, Ocean County, stands a tree which is famous in local lore known as the “JL Tree.” Its tragic tale tells of the violent death of a young local lad and the tree that has immortalized his initials. Weird NJ readers share their stories…

Jimmy’s Story is “True and Documented”

The Jimmy Lynch tree story goes back to the seventies, and THIS IS A TRUE AND DOCUMENTED STORY!  Jimmy Lynch was a local high school student and he was in the park one October night when he was confronted by four youths (supposedly members of a local gang known to us as the Gods). These gangs also hung out in the park.  They had made fun of Jimmy in school, and when they found him in the park, they stabbed him until they thought he was dead and left him at the base of this tree.

The next morning his neighbors found him there dead.  His girlfriend later carved his initials in the tree and as the story goes, over the next few years the branches at the top of the tree grew into the shape of the letters J and L.  It is plainly visible and CANNOT be mistaken as anything else but J L. Over the last few years requests have been made to cut the tree down because of teenagers and the Satanic cults said to frequent the site, but the town has left it (as a kind of memorial I guess).

If you ask old-timers around here if they remember Jimmy Lynch from the 70s, they will tell you the story.  I went to Lakewood High School and mostly all the teachers have been there since the 60s.  If you ask if they knew Jimmy Lynch most will become very uneasy and tell you it is only folklore.

If anyone is interested they can look in the Lakewood public library and find newspaper clippings on the story.  Also, Jimmy is buried in the cemetery at the end of Spruce Street, by Spruce Street School.  –J220king

Not Murder, But a Tragic Accident

I was there the night Jimmy Lynch died.  I was at the party and I was at the scene of the accident. We all left the party to go hang at the Lake, my friend Beth drove Jimmy and his little brother. They went speeding around North Lake Drive because Beth wanted to stop at her house for something.  They never made it to her house, one block away she went off the road and down a ravine, hitting a few trees on the way.

Jimmy’s little brother was thrown clear but still hurt.  Beth was critical for days, but Jimmy died at the scene. When they did not show at South Lake, I took a drive to North Lake because I knew where she lived.  That’s when I saw the lights and investigated and found the car.  The ambulance was just pulling away from the scene. I went back to South Lake, told everyone what I saw. We did not know who was hurt at this time, but a fireman told me someone had died.  –Charles Quinn

Jimmy Lynch Still Wanders Lakewoood

The road that the JL Tree is on is off of East County Line Road. There used to be a park on the corner, but it was leveled years ago. If you drive down the road you have to look at the trees right before the left into the municipal garage. For some reason the initials “JL” seem to grow up and over the rest of the other trees. I’ve also known people to actually drive up to the base of the tree and their car stalled. The initials are still carved into the tree, and people have claimed to see a shadowy figure in a hooded sweatshirt walking around the area of the former park. –Brianne D.

Photo © Weird NJ / Mark Moran

It is often the case that when the past speaks to us in the modern world, its messages are written in stone. Sometimes these voices from long ago provide a record of a lost and forgotten civilization. Trying to decipher the hidden meanings can be as frustrating as trying to piece together a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces, and doing so without the benefit of a picture to work from.

The fact is that we just don’t know for sure the meaning of many of these cryptic inscriptions which have been handed down to us through the misty veils of time. Some will undoubtedly be forever shrouded in mystery, and continue to be the subjects of speculation and conjecture for generations to come.

Located on the New Brunswick embankment of Weston Mill Pond, a slow moving section of the Lawrence Brook, can be found strange symbols carved into the red sandstone that back to 1876. Nobody to date has been able to decode them. The etched symbols look like letters of some kind, but do not seem to be of any known language. Weird NJ met up with Mark Nonestied of the Middlesex County Cultural and Heritage Commission, who took us along the path that leads to the mystery symbols, and filled us in on what he thinks they might be.

“The carvings are very fine. Obviously they knew what they were doing,” Nonestied said. We noticed the similarity in the carving style to many of the gravestones from the era when these inscriptions were made. This, along with the fact that the riverside cliffs showed obvious signs of being quarried at one time, lead us to speculate that the chiseling graffiti artists were perhaps tombstone carvers by trade.

There are other carvings along the brook that depict skulls and crossbones, and other messages from the 19th century, including the words “Red Rover,” the name of a popular pirate novel of the time. Nonestied noted that the town of East Brunswick also got into the graffiti business.

“In 1976, the East Brunswick Bicentennial Commission added their insignia to these rocks, but they had a hard time digging into the shale.”

Upon reaching the site, Nonestied said that there might be a simple explanation of the symbols, but that secret will be forever kept by the carvers.

“Maybe it says ‘Drink At Jacob’s Tavern,’” we mused.

“The names carved above the symbols were New Brunswick residents. They were found in some census records. But why they did this no one knows.”

“The ‘Red Rover’ carvings are on the New Brunswick side and rather difficult to get to. You’ll see their names again, and a skull and crossbones, but not these symbols.” Nonestied noted, referring to the mysterious letter-like code.

These ancient carvings have withstood the test of time, weather, and the re-damming of the river. What the symbols signify will most likely remain a mystery for the ages.

Photos © Weird NJ / Mark Moran

Weird NJ has explored and reported on many an odd Road Less Traveled throughout the state, but the phenomenon happening on Talamini Road in Bridgewater seems to be a uniquely weird one. It does bares certain similar characteristics to legends we’ve heard before of other such roads of mystery: A car wreck, a death, and a warning for those who dare to cross the ghostly point of impact, etc. We find these recurring themes at Gravity Roads throughout NJ, where a young girl was supposedly killed in an automobile accident. Her ghost is said to appear, warning you to slow down to avoid a fate similar to her own. Riverview Drive in Totowa, known locally as “Annie’s Road,” can be classified as another such site, with a ghost who’s intent it is to warn people of the dangerous curves on the road where she met her untimely end. There is also Atco’s ghost boy on Burnt Mill Road, and the dreaded Indian Curse Road of Deptford, just to name a few.

None of these roads, however, have the distinction of possessing an audible sound that might warn the unsuspecting motorist of impending doom. Talamini Road, on the other hand, does. The legend states that as you pass the curve on Talamini Road, a moaning sound can be heard only from the driver’s side of the car, only while traveling in one direction, and only at a certain speed.

From the locals that we’ve spoken to, the story circulating is that one night a driver, either in a car or truck, tried to take the curve at 50 mph. Some people said there was a young pedestrian also killed crossing the street as a result of this reckless act. Some of the letters we’ve received state that the moaning is actually the voice of the driver telling you to “Slow Down.” Others say it is the sound of the truck’s horn warning you to beware of the curve ahead. The sound is supposed to be droning, sort of monotone.

We decided to challenge this aural apparition and followed the directions as described to us: You must be heading west on the road, you must be traveling 35 miles an hour, and just beyond the “Slow Children” sign, the moan will be heard on the driver’s side of your vehicle only.

After attempting the prescribed procedure several times, we determined that the “moaning” sound can indeed be heard. We describe it more as the faint horn sound of a far off tractor trailer truck, rather than a moan, but none-the-less, the sound is clearly audible. When traversing the road at any speed other than 35 mph, the phenomenon does not occur.

After searching through records concerning fatal accidents along the 2-mile stretch, we came up with no incidents ever being reported on the semi-residential street. The property to the south of Talamini is a golf course. We looked for a possible pump house or another structure that might cause the sound, but found no evidence of machinery at work. Checking the pavement for ripples or bumps of any kind proved fruitless. The sound is truly a mystery.

Of course, anyone wanting to try this phenomenon should bear in mind that the actual speed limit on the road is 25 mph, and not 35 mph, so testing the legend would require breaking the law. Also, speeding on any road with “Slow Children” signs may result in tickets for other moving violations. Sometimes we here at Weird NJ are forced to break the law in the name of investigative research though, so that you won’t have to.

Talamini Road Says “Slow Down”

I have discovered through rumors from friends and from going there myself to verify, that there is a strange, voice-like sound that can be heard on Talamini Road in Bridgewater. The sound is quite monotone, and perhaps a bit gurgled, but it seems to resemble a man’s voice yelling, “Slow down!” Needless to say, in order to even hear the sound, one must be driving there. Of course, as with most weird things, this must be done at night, specifically, past midnight. Furthermore, you have to have all windows rolled down, music off, and air conditioning off. It only seems to occur when traveling in one direction, specifically (away from highway 202-206, heading for the intersection of Country Club Road). –A Weird NJ reader

You can read New Jersey’s unexplained phenomena and Roads Less Traveled in Weird NJ magazine, “Your Travel Guide to New Jersey’s Local Legends and Best Kept Secrets,” which can be found on newsstands throughout the state and on online at www.WeirdNJ.com.

Photo © Weird NJ / Mark Moran

Photo by Michael T. Wright

There have been many versions of the legend of Bud’s Grave, located in the Highlands of Monmouth County, told over the years, and most contain some elements of truth. For the most part the story is this: An old man lived in a bungalow he called Hollywood located on a lonely bay shore road at the bottom of a wooded hillside. His son Bud wandered away from home one day never to be seen alive again, and was presumed dead. The old man, consumed by grief, began to construct a monument to the memory of his missing son. Over time the shrine became a mass collection of toys, dolls and colorful decorations designed in a desperate attempt to lure the lost boy back home from the Netherworld. Word of the old man’s tragic loss and his heartfelt tribute began to circulate throughout his hometown and the neighboring communities.

Before long the curious began to flock to the site on late night jaunts. Many claimed to witness a strange misty apparition at the site, which by this time had become known in local lore as “Bud’s Grave”. Some believe that the apparition was the ghost of Bud himself, who would return to the dark playground on moonlit nights to play with the toys set out for him by his heartbroken father, only to disappear into the shadowy woods once more each time he was seen by his midnight visitors.

It’s a good story without a doubt, and one with proven longevity. We knew that some of the story was even factual. There was indeed at one time a site on a lonely tree-lined road in the Highlands where an old man had built a structure festooned with a plethora of toys, dolls and decorative signs. We had in our Weird NJ files pictures of the site in its heyday. The old man in the story did in fact live in a bungalow across the street, which bore a sign saying “Hollywood.” We know that the site in its prime was also a popular late night destination for carloads of youthful ghost hunters. We also knew that the entire site had been dismantled by the time we first visited it sometime in the early ‘90s.

Photo by Michael T. Wright

Yet people’s memories of Bud’s Grave would not let the story pass into the ages, or fade quietly into the night. Years after the destruction of the shrine Weird NJ continues to receive letters from our readers telling us about the site as if it is a mystery still in the making. Bud’s Grave literally seems to have taken on a life of its own, despite the fact that its creator is now long gone, and the site itself was destroyed over a decade ago.

So imagine our surprise when one day we were at an magazine signing party in Red Bank and all of a sudden a man in a suede fringe jacket, cowboy boots and a Western style belt buckle moseyed on up to us, pointed to a picture of Bud’s Grave featured an issue of Weird NJ and said, “Hi, I’m Bud––of Bud’s Grave.”

Mind you, although the story was always one of our favorites, we never really believed that there was ever an actual flesh and blood BUD! Nor could we ever have imagined that one day we’d be standing shoe to boot with him in downtown Red Bank! But there he was, big as life. He had a wistful grin and a kind of mischievous twinkle in his eye, which at first made us suspicious of his claim to the Bud identity. But when he produced his business card and we read the name Buddy Rodgers and the address which we knew to be the location of the Hollywood bungalow, we knew he was the real deal.

Of course we seized the moment and set up an appointment to interview this walking talking icon of New Jersey folklore.

Dean Man Talking: Interviewing Bud of Bud’s Grave

WNJ: So, we’re standing on the site where the original… umm, what would you call it?

“This is the site where the original legend began, from the seeds of collectibles gathered by a gruff, rugged man––my father. This whole area was full of odd collectibles. Dogs, statues of little angels, girls, everything imaginable, wagon wheels. Anything one might collect, some nautical stuff. My father collected it over the years.

“Originally was a shower house. Before it became my father’s tool shed. The coldest shower in the world! Everybody used to come up (from the beach), and they were hearty souls, and they’d go into the shower house. There was no hot water. The cold water came out of the spring, so it was freezing! “

What made him start putting together what came to be known as the “Bud” site––the monument?

Bud Rodgers Sr.

“One thing led to another. What happened originally was, you had the shed, and you had this big open area. Us kids came along, and my father was really great with his hands. He would pull branches off the trees and carve a shark’s head on it. You’d have it as a walking stick. He’d carve your name on it and what have you. Then he built little piers, all these little canals that run by here, my father built miniature piers and little marinas. I had my boats and stuff in there. Then as we abandoned it growing into our teenage years and went on to the service, he started collecting things. And he collected and he put things up and it went on from there. It was decades in the making.”

At what point do you remember hearing for the first time the site referred to as “Bud’s Grave”?

Buddy Rodgers

“That was 1963. It kind of aggravated me to begin with to even hear something like that was going on. There were rumors: One that I was killed in Vietnam, and they started to put these things there for me. My mother couldn’t face it, and they put a lot of my boyhood stuff over here. The other rumor was that I had drowned, at a rather young age, and they put all that stuff over here.

“I’d be down in Manasquan at the Osprey or something like that, the famous bar down there, as a college student. After the Navy I went to college. And I’d mention Bud and the Highlands and they’d go “You ever hear of Bud’s Grave?” I’d be up in New York City and hear somebody say, “You ever hear of Bud’s Grave?” I slowly started realizing how big this had grown. I started to see pictures of the ‘Grave’ in restaurants in Red Bank.”

Your father maintained this site until he died, right?

Right. And in fact, just before he died, he had a dump truck come over here and take care of everything. So this is it, this is what remains (pointing to a handmade cross). What remains is what’s here and what’s in people’s minds, memories, and fantasies.

Weird NJ readers share some of their recollections of Bud’s Grave

Bud’s Ghostly Haze

I grew up near Sandy Hook and I remember Bud’s grave quite well. I was 17 years old and I remember a child that had recently been reported missing—that was Bud. They never found him. The police searched for a very long time and still did not find Bud. His parents were full of anxiety and very bereft. So, the father of Bud had left toys out there for a memorial, hoping Bud would return home. Well, he never did. Later on, teens would use that place for a hangout place and smoke there and leave stuff, mostly their old toys. I will probably leave toys out there because I have heard from my friends that there really is a ghost that appears on some nights in a glowing white haze. –Brad C.

Bud: A Dead Dog?

As a native New Jerseyan, I made many a trip to Bud’s Grave, often bringing along friends and family. On one such occasion, I met an old gentleman rearranging some of the “offerings.” I inquired if he knew anything about the place’s origins. He suddenly produced a set of keys and opened the door to the shed on the site. The inside of the door was lined with newspaper clippings written about the site over the years. He chuckled as he related the story of how this all started.

It seems the old man (never got his name) had a dog named Bud. After a long and fruitful life, Bud left for that great fire hydrant in the sky. The old man, who loved the dog very much, felt obliged to give old Bud a proper funeral. He took Bud’s remains across the street and buried him on the side of the road, marking the site with a sign that read ‘Bud.’ He also placed some flowers, and some of Bud’s favorite dog toys.

The next day the old man noticed that someone had added some dolls and knick-knacks. He didn’t think anything more about it until he noticed that over the following weeks, more and more items were being added. Kids hanging out started adding items and concocting tales about the mysterious origins of the place. This made its way into numerous college papers, with the story of Bud, a young boy who died of various means becoming an Urban Legend. –Mike N.

Weird NJ reader Lee Forman, shown here with friends Charlie, Wendy, and Norm, went to Bud’s Grave on several occasions after a night of carousing back in the mid-80s. Lee remembers, “I am positive I used a timer, which is why I was running to get into the photo. I have to say I look like an idiot – that was the 80s.”

Going Inside the ‘Grave’

Like many Monmouth County residents, I grew up hearing stories about Bud’s Grave in the Highlands. The story I came to view as the “truth” was that Bud was a young man from the Highlands who was drafted during the Viet Nam war and was killed while on duty. His grieving father built “Bud’s Grave” as a tribute to his son. The memorial included toys, furniture, lawn ornaments, etc., that Bud had owned and enjoyed as a child. I found this story to be much more believable than the one that said that Bud died in a car crash or that a very young Bud climbed the cliff in back of Bud’s Grave and fell to his death at the very spot where his father eventually built his tribute.

In 1985, I took my husband, who is from Georgia and was completely unfamiliar with the legend(s) of Bud’s Grave, to view the site. Feeling very brave, we got out of our car and began touring the site. Shortly after we arrived, an old gentleman emerged from a house across the street. He asked if we were enjoying his display and wondered what we had heard about it. I related the tales I had heard growing up and the man laughed out loud.

He went on to explain that his name was Bud and he had arranged this display simply to amuse himself. He then brought out a ring of keys, and used one of the keys to open a locked shed that was on the “grave site.” Inside was an amazing collection of photographs, many early examples of trick photography, a la the infamous fairy photos, and many others depicting Bud’s Grave in various stages of development. I believe that Bud died of cancer a few years later. I’m really glad I got to meet him. Even though he destroyed the legend for me, I did get to see a side of Bud’s Grave that few people saw. –Anne D.

You can read more about Bud’s Grave and all of our state’s other local legends in Weird NJ magazine, “Your Travel Guide to New Jersey’s Local Legends and Best Kept Secrets,” can be found on newsstands throughout the state and on the web at www.WeirdNJ.com.

There’s a ghost story in the southern New Jersey town of Atco that tells of a young boy who was run down on a lonely stretch of road after chasing his basketball into the middle of the street. The tale centers around a sparsely populated lane on the fringes of the Pine Barrens known as Burnt Mill Road, and there are some very detailed instructions would-be ghost hunters must follow in order to see this apparition. Weird NJ readers share their experiences…

Atco Ghost Boy Dribbles in the Darkness

In the town of Atco, there is a road that was never finished. It branches off a road that connects with Rt 30. This road runs about two miles before it ends in the Pine Barrens. It was Christmas night and a boy was out playing with the basketball he got as a present when a drunk driver came speeding down this dead end street. He hit the boy and decided to run––only to come to the end of the road. The driver was forced to do a u-turn and drive back, passing the body of the boy he had just killed.

You drive down the street and head straight towards the end of the road. When you reach the end do a u-turn and pull your car up to the part of the street where there is a crack through the asphalt from one side of the street to the other. Stop here and beep your horn three times and flash your lights three times, then sit in darkness for a bit. You will see the figure of a boy begin to cross the street dribbling a basketball, almost in slow motion. –Anthony Dooley

If You Want to See a Ghost, Just Kill the Engine, Kill the Lights, and Walk Away

The most common way to see the ghost is to drive to this haunted road in the middle of the night, park on the side, kill the engine, kill the lights, and get out of the car. You then walk AWAY from the spot where the ghost appears, and after twenty feet, turn around. You will then see the spectral form of a little boy walking towards you. –Manning L. Krull

Ghost Boy Searches for Those Who Killed Him

I used to row for my college’s crew team in South Jersey. On one practice another teammate told this tale. He was describing a ghost he saw in Atco. He said that the ghost was the victim of a hit and run on Burnt Mill Road and, if you park at the end of the road with engine and lights off, the ghost would appear and look the car over to see if it was the same one that killed him. –Scott Kafarski

Atco Ghost Follows the Bouncing Ball

Down a road in Atco there is a house where a little boy was playing with a ball in the yard. He chased it into the street, where he was hit by a car and killed. It is a ritual of passage to go and try to see the boy’s ghost. You should go at midnight, and park in a specific spot and flash your lights at the area in the road across from the house.

An image of the dead boy is supposed to be seen chasing the ball into the street with headlights coming at him. Many have said they see different scenes but they are all related, most of them having a little boy and headlights. In my own personal experience, an image of boy did walk towards our car, but never actually made it. It was as though he was walking in place. Nevertheless, I was scared out of my wits. –Kyle

I’ve Seen the Atco Ghost!

There is a dead-end street in Atco that has been haunted for years. At the end of the road there is some type of factory from which large trucks often leave around dusk. One night, there was a little kid bouncing a ball all over the street. As one of the trucks was leaving the plant, the ball took a bad bounce and the boy ran after it––right into the path of the oncoming truck.

Rumors started to circulate that the boy’s ghost comes back to play in the same street that he was killed on. Growing up in Atco, I spent many nights drinking beer with friends at the end of this street and waiting for the ghost. We never seemed to find him whenever we gathered there. The only time I ever had a different experience there was when I actually followed the instructions on how to see the ghost. The night was rather misty and it was raining a little bit. My friend and I drove to the end of the road where the factory is located and turned around. We drove up to the second streetlight and stopped the car. I turned off the ignition and we sat in silence for a while.

Nothing was happening, so we decided to leave. The moment I touched the keys, a sudden wind swirled the mist on the road, and a shadowy shape appeared at the side of the road. It wasn’t a shape really, but a break in the low-lying fog that resembled the outline of a small child. We decided to get out of there. As I was racing down the street, I could see the fog swirling faster and faster. We came to the stop sign, which I ignored, and I turned left onto the main street. –Zachary W.

A Little Atco Ghost Chicanery

In South Jersey, there is not much to do. After the bowling alleys, diners and movie theaters have all been exhausted, the kids of the region become desperate and search out “weirder” activities to participate in. One such popular supernatural activity is the ritual of visiting “the Atco Ghost.”

Located not far off the White Horse Pike, the Atco Ghost is a popular local legend that is surrounded by a plethora of lore and rumor. A few months ago, I decided to learn more about this creepy resident of my neighborhood. My mother, who has lived in the area for over 55 years, seemed a logical place to turn. She explained that it is supposedly the ghost of a local youth who was killed in the ’50s during a drag racing accident. The unfortunate youngster chased after a loose ball that rolled into the path of the oncoming hot-rods and though he did not survive, his spirit lives on and became a source of interest in the area.

As the tradition prescribes, interested visitors should travel the dark and isolated road where the accident happened until they reach the end. Once there, they are to turn their vehicles around so as to imitate a car about to begin a drag race and flash their headlights three times (a custom used to start a drag race). After this it is important to focus your eyes on the distant lampposts, where you will notice a small figure walking across the road in chase of his lost ball.

My sister told me that she had once seen the boy walking across the road and a friend of mine described a much more startling experience that his ex-roommate had. Supposedly, he didn’t see the boy in the distance, but instead noticed him sitting next to the car he was occupying. He said the boy looked pale white and sat in silence, and upon seeing him, he freaked out and came home crying. (It should be noted that this was a grown man who swears he was not under the influence of any drugs).

Bored around the week of Halloween, my friends and I decided that this was a perfect pretext for paying our local ghost a visit. We drove back, flicked our lights, and sat for awhile. We were terrified but saw nothing. Dejected, we decided to head home, but that’s when the real fun started. We noticed other like-minded individuals driving down the road and quickly realized that they did not see us. Seeing a perfect opportunity for some chicanery, we turned our lights off and drove back down the road with the intention of throwing on our high beams when they flashed their headlights. We weren’t driving for more than a minute when the event occurred.

After putting ourselves in the position of being frightened victims, we felt a sense of heightened control by becoming purveyors of fear on the unsuspecting youths. But just like in any good horror film, the tables were about to be turned again. Out of nowhere, a blinding light appeared in our rear view mirrors and we all screamed in terror. The initial flash was followed by an array of other blue and red lights.

Apparently, it’s illegal in the state of NJ to drive with your headlights off. The police officer reprimanded us and the other youths. He told them to “Stop looking for the Atco ghost,” and turned to my friend in the driver’s seat and said, “And you…stop being such a dildo!”

We received no ticket, and though we are sure that this event was only the product of local resident’s frustrations against people wandering into their neighborhood, we’d like to believe that this was just another small trick perpetrated by a long departed child with a good sense of humor. –Kevin Watkins            

You can read more about the Atco Ghost and all of New Jersey’s other haunted byways in Weird NJ magazine, “Your Travel Guide to New Jersey’s Local Legends and Best Kept Secrets,” which can be found on newsstands throughout the state and on online at www.WeirdNJ.com.

Photos © Weird NJ / Mark Moran

By Donald E. Bender for Weird NJ

The Fifties were an era of unbridled nuclear proliferation. Fears of a potential nuclear war between the United States and the Soviet Union were rampant. Basement and backyard bomb shelters were in vogue. Air raid drills became as commonplace as fire drills in the schools. Within this tense atmosphere of nuclear confrontation, the United States and Soviet Union each strove to outdo the other side by producing and deploying larger numbers of increasingly more powerful nuclear weapons for a variety of military purposes.

With an ever-increasing number of nuclear weapons in circulation around the globe, accidents were bound to happen. Within the United States, accidents of this type were referred to as “broken arrow” incidents. An incident of this type involving the loss of two atomic bombs occurred off the coast of New Jersey on July 28, 1957. On that day, an Air Force C-124 Globemaster transport aircraft took off from a base in Delaware on a routine flight to Europe. Its cargo consisted of three nuclear bombs plus one nuclear core. The flight would be anything but routine.

The worldwide transportation of nuclear bombs by the Air Force’s Strategic Air Command (SAC) was a major activity during the Fifties. At that time, SAC operated four Strategic Support Squadrons dedicated to the nuclear transportation role. The squadrons carried bombs, bomb components and other essential items required by SAC’s growing worldwide bomber fleet deployed at bases located across the United States, Europe, North Africa and Asia.

These squadrons were equipped with the Douglas C-124 “Globemaster II” a plane which airmen nicknamed “Old Shaky”. The Globemaster was at one time the world’s largest military transport aircraft. Its double deck fuselage measured roughly 130 feet in length. It had a wingspan of nearly 175 feet, and weighed 175,000 pounds. Powered by four 3,500 horsepower Pratt & Whitney piston engines, the gigantic aircraft could cover a distance of 2,300 miles at a leisurely cruising speed of 246 miles per hour.

On that warm July day, the bomb-laden C-124 departed from Delaware’s Dover Air Force Base bound for Europe on the first leg of its ill-fated transoceanic flight. Its precise route and destination remain unknown. Designed to carry large and heavy payloads, and not for speed, the C-124’s flight over the Atlantic Ocean could have required ten or twelve hours to complete. This trip, however, was to be different. Exactly what went wrong aboard the huge transport remains unknown. What is known is that within a relatively short time following its departure from Delaware, the C-124 was in serious trouble. The cause might have been an in-flight fire, a problem with the fuel supply or some other serious mechanical mishap.

Regardless of the cause, the immediate and devastating result was that two of the aircraft’s four engines had to be shut down. Only the two remaining Pratt & Whitney engines advanced to their maximum power settings, preventing the huge plane from rapidly losing height and crashing into the sea.

Nevertheless, the crew of the aircraft could not maintain a level altitude. The two remaining engines simply could not support the massive weight of the aircraft and its cargo and the big C-124 began descending toward the ocean below. Under the best of circumstances, the loss of two engines would have been considered a major in-flight emergency. For an aircraft heavily laden with a full load of fuel and a cargo of nuclear bombs, it was a potential disaster. Although there was never any danger of an accidental nuclear detonation, the aircraft, its flight crew and its highly classified cargo were now all at risk.

The only solution was to land the aircraft as quickly as possible. At this point in the flight, the coast of New Jersey was the closest landfall. The nearest suitable airfield was the Navy’s Atlantic City Naval Air Station. A secure military base equipped with long runways capable of handling jet fighters, the Atlantic City base offered hope to the crew of the big transport and a direct course to the Navy’s base was quickly plotted.

Unfortunately, the aircraft’s rate of descent was too rapid to enable it to reach the shore. As the C-124 droned onward toward the New Jersey coast with its remaining engines pushed to their maximum limits, the aircraft continued to lose altitude. The idea of “ditching” the aircraft – making an emergency crash landing in the ocean––was not well regarded. It was far too likely that the giant transport would be torn to pieces by the impact. The flight crew might not have survived a ditching and the classified cargo would have almost certainly been lost when the aircraft (or what was left of it) filled with water and sank to the bottom.

The flight crew’s only hope lay in reaching the Atlantic City Naval Air Station. Yet this possibility appeared more and more uncertain as the aircraft continued to lose height, dropping inexorably toward the ocean below. One way to reduce or halt the aircraft’s descent was to lighten it. Excess fuel, no longer needed for a long transoceanic flight, was probably dumped. Nonessential cargo may have been pitched out of the aircraft. These measures were inadequate and the rapidly unfolding midair crisis now reached a more urgent state. The weight of the aircraft had to be reduced, immediately, to prevent it from crashing into the sea. Only one drastic solution remained. The aircraft’s cargo would have to be jettisoned. Its nuclear bombs would have to go.

C-124C Globemaster II

A key design feature of early nuclear bombs made this option somewhat more acceptable. Unlike more modern nuclear bombs, the first generation of atomic bombs featured a removable nuclear “core”. This core contained the bomb’s nuclear components including, typically, uranium and plutonium. The removable core technique ensured that such weapons remained “one point safe” and incapable of an accidental nuclear detonation. Under normal operating conditions aboard SAC’s bombers, the cores remained separated from the bombs. They would only be inserted, during flight, prior to dropping a weapon in wartime. Until the core was inserted, a weapon of this type was unarmed and safe. It was essentially just an empty bomb casing.

The three atomic bombs carried aboard the stricken C-124 lacked their nuclear cores. In this condition, they posed no particular threat in the event that they had had to be jettisoned. However, each bomb did contain a substantial amount of high explosive material. This was needed to compress the nuclear core and thereby initiate the nuclear reaction. It was uncertain whether these high explosive components might detonate when the bombs hit the water.

The first bomb was pushed overboard at an altitude of only 2,500 feet above the sea. The bomb fell into the gray-green waters of the Atlantic Ocean roughly 100 miles from Atlantic City. There was no visible explosion as the bomb hit the water and it quickly vanished from sight. The second bomb was jettisoned in the same manner. Again, there was no observable detonation of the high explosive elements.

The combined weight of the two jettisoned bombs probably amounted to roughly three tons. Having shed some 6,000 pounds of excess weight, the C-124 was now able to maintain its altitude as it labored toward the New Jersey coast and safety. The third remaining bomb and the one nuclear core remained on board.

Despite the loss of two engines and the severe handling difficulties this must have created, the crew managed to land the huge aircraft at the Atlantic City Naval Air Station without incident. Their heroic effort saved both the big aircraft and a portion of its atomic cargo during this harrowing incident.

Although the C-124 landed safely, the fate of the two lost nuclear bombs remains shrouded in mystery. Although the missing bombs lacked their nuclear cores, they were still regarded as highly classified devices. Soon after the incident, efforts to recover the bombs were made. Published reports suggested that these efforts were unsuccessful. What was the ultimate fate of the two lost atomic bombs?   Did they simply disintegrate when they slammed into the ocean? Were fragments of one or both bombs eventually located and recovered? Or, do they still lie somewhere on the ocean floor, silent and rusting artifacts of the Cold War?

We may never know.

You can read more about all of our state’s other weapon related oddities in Weird NJ magazine, “Your Travel Guide to New Jersey’s Local Legends and Best Kept Secrets,” which can be found on newsstands throughout the state and on the web at www.WeirdNJ.com.

Anna Jones, owner of this diminutive dwelling in Brick.

For Sale: Charming cozy ranch style brick cottage in Brick, NJ, located on a spacious lot near the water. One bedroom, one bath, dine-in kitchen, living room with working brick fireplace, and an outdoor pool. Note: Perspective buyers should not exceed three and a half feet in height.

It’s not everyday that a house like this one goes up for sale––that’s because there just aren’t too many fully functional houses around that happen to be scaled down to one quarter size of normal building codes. But this year the legendary “Brick Midget House of Brick” was placed on the market by its owners. And no, contrary to popular belief, they are not little people. Matt and Anna Jones purchased their corner lot home in Brick back in 2000, and located in back yard was something quite unique: a completely operational miniature house outfitted with all the amenities of their new full-sized home––running water, electricity, even a fireplace. According to Anna, the cottage was built back in the 1960s by the former owners as a playhouse for their grandchildren. Inside was everything that you expect to find in a regular home, it was fully decorated with scaled down furniture: tables, chairs, a bed, wood paneled walls, tiled bathroom with shower, kitchen cabinets and even a tiny upright piano.

At the time, the Jones’s thought it would be fun to have the diminutive dwelling in their back yard, but as the years passed they would come to realize that the odd little novelty, while an interesting curiosity, did have its drawbacks. As unbelievable as it may seem, Anna told Weird NJ, “Unfortunately, people come and steal from it. We had all these little wooden flowers in the window, and during the summer when we had the little windows open, people would stick their hands right in and I kept noticing flowers missing. They’ve stolen my front door. There was a hazing and the kids from one of the colleges kicked it in, took the door and left. I have a little replica soda table from the 50s in there and they stole one of the chairs.”

The tiny house has long been a fixture in local lore and has attracted the curious from far and wide, many of whom are convinced that it is actually occupied by a family of little people.

“People think that midgets lived here and say that up at the Stop and Shop Plaza, there used to be a circus.” Anna told us. “My son was just at a dentist’s office the other day up in Shrewsbury and when he told the hygienist that he was from Brick she said she had friends that just moved here and that they lived in a neighborhood where there were midgets, because they saw this little house. You see, people don’t think it’s my house, because it’s on its own lot. So they just think it’s a separate entity.”

We asked Anna how her children enjoyed having the miniature abode in their back yard and if they played in it when they were growing up.

“We wanted them to, but I didn’t think it was safe for them because I never knew what was in there from the night before.”

She says that late night visitations by unwelcome guests have not been uncommon and the police have even been called buy neighbors to break up parties that were going on on the property unbeknownst to the Jones’s.

“We would find used condoms in there, someone threw a Jack Daniels bottle through the front window. That costs $400 every time that gets broken and needs to be replaced. Most of the people that come have all good intentions––they want to take a picture, and I don’t have a problem with that. But then you get the ones that have to go that extra step and steal something from in there. The ones that are destructive are the ones that ruin it for the ones that are honest.”

So this year the Jones’s decided to test the waters of the real estate market and see if they could sell the unique little domicile.

“I can’t afford to keep it up.” Anna lamented. “When Sandy hit this was all under water. We had $78,000 of damage in our house. I can’t subdivide the lot, so if somebody wanted to buy this, they’d have to excavate it and pick it up and take it. So if some eccentric person has nothing better to do with their money…”

Sandy was not kind to the smaller house either and much of the interior was damaged. The lagoon located just across the street rose and swept right through the playhouse, buckling walls and waterlogging the tiny furniture. Now dead leaves and other debris litter the wall-to-wall carpeted floors. Still, the Jones’s do take the time and effort to decorate the little house for most holidays, Halloween and Christmas especially. But Anna admits, “We’ve scaled down a lot, we used to do so much more, but they’d steal it, they’d just take it. It’s sad, because they don’t respect our property.”

Though not currently listed with any realtors, Anna has posted the sale on her Facebook page and has had some interested parties inquire about it.

“So what’s the asking price?” We wondered.

“We’re no sure, we haven’t really come up with a concrete number yet. I listed it on one of those garage sale auction sites and set the starting bid at $10,000. But people have to understand that to excavate it and move it is not going to be cheap. Water lines have to be capped, because there is running water to it. I’m not an engineer, so I’m not sure of all that that would entail.”

But unlike the house itself, the sum will not be a small one, because as Anna tells us, “This is America, and I have bills to pay!”

“Aren’t you going to miss it if it does sell?” We asked. Without a second’s hesitation, Anna responded, “Absolutely not. I haven’t been in there in a while because Hurricane Sandy went in there for me, so it was filled with water. Now I don’t go in there…too many bugs.”

Though Anna tried to convince us that she wouldn’t miss her tiny house should it be sold to the highest bidder, we know she still holds a deep affection for her weird New Jersey landmark. She has recently cleaned up the interior and had even had T-shirts made proudly displaying the famed house superimposed over the outline of the state and emblazoned with the “Brick Midget House” moniker and Weird NJ logo. We know we will be wearing ours with pride!

The preceding article is an excerpt from the latest issue of Weird NJ magazine, “Your Travel Guide to New Jersey’s Local Legends and Best Kept Secrets,” which is now available on newsstands throughout the state and on the web at www.WeirdNJ.com.

Perhaps it’s apropos that in our fast moving, highly mobile state, many of our most notable ghosts are seen hanging out at the side of the road, where it is said that they met their untimely demise. These roadside apparitions have been witnessed by countless motorists over the course of several generations. They seem to be content to wander their own stretch of paranormal pavement year in and year out, eternally reenacting their final living moments here on this Earth.

So could a road as legendary as New Jersey’s famed Garden State Parkway not have a highway haunting associated with it? No way! Unexplainable encounters and close calls around Exit 82 at Route 37 in Toms River are attributed locally to the “Parkway Phantom.” Ever since the completion of the Parkway in 1955, people have reported seeing a person trying to cross the road, waving his arms. This Phantom appears only at night and only around an eight-mile stretch in the vicinity of Toms River Barracks of the New Jersey State Police. The apparition is described as being very tall with a long topcoat belted at the waist. The strangest thing about this apparition is the way he waves his arms, which is synchronously, both bending from the elbow. It has been described as looking like a strange football cheer. Although the State Police are reluctant to comment, a former state trooper admitted that that section of the highway has seen more than its fair share of auto accidents.

Weird NJ readers share their stories of the Parkway Phantom…

Trying to Get Saved in Toms River

We all work as paramedics in Ocean County, and we see a lot of fatal accidents. About five years ago, on a rainy night along the spot on the GSP where it is also US 9, there was a guy whose car broke down on the curve. He pulled off to the side and began to walk along the shoulder when a driver hit him, throwing him into the woods and killing him.

When the paramedics got there they knew someone had been hit, but due to the darkness and rain they could not find him. They finally did and tried to revive him, but it was too late. Several weeks later the same medic crew was coming back from Kimball Medical Center in Lakewood, heading toward Toms River, when they saw someone on the side of the road waving them down. By the time they were able to pull over and back up to the spot the man was gone, but they noticed it was in the same spot where the man was hit only weeks before. They just blew off the event until another crew reported a similar event in the same area. To date about three teams have seen this. –SeanEms17

The Parkway Phantom Way Back When

Here’s a little news coverage from ’59 or ’60 of a ghost hunt on the Garden State Parkway near Toms River. Rumor had it that a naked female ghost was seen floating over the Parkway––who could resist that? Quite a crowd showed up, along with the police. No ghost, or even a naked woman, was seen, but one enterprising youth thought it would be a good idea to put on a sheet and scare a cop. It wasn’t a good idea… –Gary Fitton

You can read more about this ghost and all of New Jersey’s other haunted highways in Weird NJ magazine, “Your Travel Guide to New Jersey’s Local Legends and Best Kept Secrets,” which can be found on newsstands throughout the state and on online at www.WeirdNJ.com.