The Night We Saw The Jersey Devil

Editor's note: This story first ran two years ago. But considering it's that time of year, it bears repeating.

by Patricia A. Miller
OCEAN COUNTY, NJ - I’ve told this story to many people over the years. If I were the only one who had seen what we saw, I might question my sanity. But it wasn’t just me. There were four other people who saw it too. We couldn’t have all been nuts.

It was a cold, late October night a long time ago. A fat, almost full moon shone in the navy sky. Clouds scudded across the moon. We had visited friends in Englishtown, then decided to take a back road home to Trenton State. No one had had anything to drink or smoke. We were all stone cold sober.

My roommate Claire was waiting for us back at Trenton State. She hadn’t made the trip. Claire had grown up in Ocean County. Her family owned the Ortley House in Ortley Beach for years. She knew all the old Pine Barrens legends. We considered her to be the expert when it came to Jersey Shore stories.

One story she told us was about a mysterious blue light that sometimes appeared in the remote Pine Barrens. It usually meant something ominous was about to happen.

We stopped and got gas, a full tank, just to be on the safe side. We decided to take Route 539 back to Trenton State. It was after midnight, we were all tired and wanted to get back to school.

About 15 minutes into the ride, I said ”Look, there’s a blue light!”

”Yeah, right,” one of my friends said. ”Knock it off, Ribit.” (My college nickname, but that’s another story.)

Sharon’s battered white station wagon slowly chugged to a halt. We were out of gas, despite the fact that Sharon had filled up before we left.

“Cut the crap, Sharon,” someone said. ”Let’s get going.”“Guys, I can’t!” she said. ”There’s no gas. It’s on empty.”

And there wasn’t. The gas tank gauge was on E.

We looked around. There were thick woods on either side of the roadway. No houses except for one about a quarter of mile away, lit by a street light. The house lights were still on, despite the lateness of the hour. There were no cell phones back then. No way to call for help.

Not seeing any other choice, we got out of the car and started to head down the dark road, towards the house.
We kept walking. Very soon we heard a scuffling noise in the woods, almost as if something or someone was zigzagging its way slowly towards the road, then back into the woods. We walked a little faster. Then we walked a lot faster.

We were relieved when we finally reached the house. Fortunately, the young couple who owned the house were still up. The husband was a part-time professor at Trenton State. He and his wife were renovating their newly purchased home.

We explained the problem and he graciously offered to help us out.

“Go back to your car, lock the doors and stay there,” he said. ”I’ll go get some gas and bring it back to you.”

So we started our long trek back to the station wagon. The thing in the woods, whatever it was, moved with us. The scuffling noise came closer to the road, then back into the woods. We walked faster. Much faster.

We broke into a run when we saw the car. We ripped open the doors and locked them. The back door of the station wagon was open, even though it was locked when we left. We closed it, locked it, then settled back to wait for the man with the gas.

Several of us were sitting in the back seat, staring down the road. Suddenly, unbelievably, a strange thing sprang out of the woods, onto the road. It was very tall and appeared to have wings. It was definitely not a human form. It lurched down the roadway, heading toward us. It had a very strange gait, almost like it was riding a bike with its legs.

We were all terrified. I felt tears rolling down my cheeks. No one said a word. We all just stared at the thing coming closer and closer. It was about 300 yards away when a light appeared off in the distance. It was our savior with the gas. The thing in the road darted back into the woods.

The man filled the tank. We thanked him profusely, paid him and got the hell out of there as fast as we could.

When we got back to school, Claire was waiting, worried that we had taken so long.
We fell all over ourselves telling her what we had seen.

“Wait a minute,” she said. ”Wait a minute. You didn’t see the Jersey Devil unless it walked like this.”

She proceed to lurch around the room with a strange gait, the same gait the thing had used.

Needless to say, we all screamed.

There have been numerous sightings and reports about Mother Leeds’ 13th child over the past century. Ours was one of many. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Do you have your own Jersey Devil story? Share it with us in the comments section.

Illustration courtesy of WeirdNJ