Teenagers who get involve in Satanism ‘tend to be be intelligent, creative, curious.’ ~ Paul Hart
What is going on down Clinton Road?
West Milford, New Jersey, and its surrounding counties are suburban tranquility for those not interested in spending their lives in the Big Apple. But beyond the Norman Rockwell exterior lie chilling tales and monstrous mysteries that refuse to be solved… or resolved. This is the heart of North New Jersey, a place where cold, calculated evil has left its mark, fueling the fever of fear that gives life to local legends.
Our journey into North New Jersey takes us along the infamous Clinton Road, beginning and ending not with ghosts, but with a terrifying reality that ties together two of the state’s most disturbing true crime stories: the tragic and explosive case of Tommy Sullivan and the infamous “Iceman.”
The Iceman Cometh
For young Tommy Sullivan, The Iceman was ancient history. At 14 years old, Tommy’s new teenage life was centered around his paper route, his wrestling team at Reverend Brown Catholic School, attending mass with his family at St. Thomas the Apostle Church, and discovering the dark lord (more to come on that). But just five years earlier, the legend of their local hitman was born.
For many in the Clifton area, the most chilling tales are not about spectral figures, but about the terrifyingly real presence of Richard Kuklinski, “The Iceman.” One of America’s most prolific and feared contract killers, Kuklinski was mobbed up and operated across North Jersey. The isolated, wooded terrain that borders Clinton Road and its adjacent reservoirs provided a grimly convenient canvas for his work.
Kuklinski used to take his family horseback riding in West Milford, off of Clinton Road. The trails, lined with thick forest, offered long moments in nature, wonderful for his children’s imagination, as well as his own. He had found the perfect desolate area to dump his victims.
In 1983, a cyclist found the body of Daniel Deppner off the side of this notoriously eerie and isolated road. It was discovered that the body had been frozen. Deppner was one of four victims The Iceman was convicted of murdering, though his claims number into the hundreds. Authorities have now tied him to 15 total.
Locals rightfully believe that the seldom-traveled stretches of Clinton Road served as a clandestine dumping ground for his victims. The notion that you might be walking over the unmarked grave of a mob hit victim casts a heavy, grounded pall over the area. It’s a real, human darkness that perfectly primes the mind for the legendary horrors that follow.
Tommy Sullivan and the Spark of the Satanic Panic
The air of palpable dread in the 1980s was inflamed by the horrific case of Tommy Sullivan in nearby Jefferson Township. In 1988, 14-year-old Tommy murdered his mother, Betty Ann Sullivan, in a crime of brutal violence, before taking his own life in a just as horrific act.
It was a Saturday night when Tommy and his mother got into an argument about Tommy’s new fascination with Satanic worship. Tommy stabbed his mother repeatedly with his Boy Scout knife. (Did I mention he was also a Boy Scout?)
After killing his mother, he strategically placed his books on the occult in a circle on the living room floor, piled newspapers in the middle, and set the papers on fire. He then ran to a neighbor’s backyard, where he used his Boy Scout knife to slit his own throat… a few times. I’ll leave out the graphic details. Tommy’s father and his 10-year-old brother, Brian, were awakened by the smoke alarm and found the body of Betty Ann, 37, in the basement.
Tommy left a note.
Detectives found a ‘suicide note’ written by Tommy before the dispute with his mother, indicating that he had been contemplating taking his own life before the argument. Detectives said the note contained ‘Satan-like’ symbols and ‘cult references,’ but they refused to disclose where it was found or what it said. However, they did say that the circle of books used to start the blaze was an “arrangement common in occult rituals to ‘focus’ negative energy.”
The community struggled, searching for answers to the unimaginable motive behind Tommy’s actions. The sudden, intense fear that cults were corrupting suburban youth rippled across all of North Jersey, instantly lending credibility to every dark local legend. In the charged atmosphere of the late 80s, the shadows off Clinton Road grew darker, waiting patiently to become the focus of this panic.
Tommy Visits Cross Castle
Cross Castle (historically known as Bearfort House) was a decaying structure that had become an inspiration for many dark tales, and not all are fiction.
Built in 1905 by Richard J. Cross, the great stone house fell into ruin after a devastating fire, leaving behind only crumbling stone walls. Its isolation and decay turned it into a notorious gathering spot. For years, the ruins were covered in occult graffiti and used by thrill-seekers, teenagers, and—according to consistent rumors—actual Satanic cults.
It is at this decaying monument to Gothic terror that the narrative of Tommy Sullivan terrifyingly converges.
The horrific details of the Sullivan case led police and local investigators to hunt for outside influences, inevitably focusing on the rumors of Satanism. It was during this investigation that a chilling rumor emerged: Tommy Sullivan had visited Cross Castle shortly before the murder/suicide.
Cross Castle
Joseph Percy wrote about the North New Jersey woods: they were infested with bands of robbers and counterfeiters to say nothing of the witches that held their nightly dances and carousels and the ghosts that then made their appearance in such frightful forms.
It is believed he was specifically referring to Richard Cross’s impressive home.
Richard James Cross was born in Liverpool, England, in 1845 and moved to New York City via New Orleans, becoming a successful banker and railroad executive. He married American socialite Matilda Redmond in 1872 and had six children together until tragically, Matilda died just months after the birth of their youngest son.
Cross Castle 1907/Photo by Ann Geneder
Two years after Matilda died, Cross married her sister, Annie Redmond, and continued living a privileged life in Manhattan. They belonged to many organizations and societies, and had a very active social life whilst ushering in the Gilded Age. But by the early 1900s, Cross’s involvement in secret societies, and what many believed to be the occult, had grown.
By 1907, Cross had completed his massive Citadel made of native stone on the 365 acres he purchased in North New Jersey. Adjacent to the estate was the pristine 77-acre Hank’s Pond. It’s speculated that Bearfort, now called Cross Castle, cost $1.5 million to build back in 1905.
There’s not much information out there about Cross regarding his years at the Castle, but the stories have been passed down through generations like a Jersey oral tradition. Whispers of an unhappy wife traveling back and forth to the city whilst her husband held masked rituals and secret ceremonies, complete with robes, wine-filled chalices, and shared amory, have lasted longer than the macabre structure.
In 1917, the mysterious parties came to a stop when Cross died (in Miami, Florida). And as the Castle fell into ruins, the structure continued to be a nefarious spot for all sorts of dark gatherings and questionable goings-on.
What did Tommy See?
The story, widely circulated in the aftermath of the panic, suggested that Tommy and some friends had gone to the ruins of Cross Castle. Some say it was merely to explore and probably sneak some beer, like so many other teens had done before them. However, what was allegedly discovered was far more shocking: Tommy was said to have witnessed a black mass at the castle involving hooded figures in a satanic ritual.
Whether this was a real-life cult or a figment of a disturbed teenager’s mind, the belief was that this encounter irrevocably pushed Tommy over the edge. In the eyes of the terrified public, Cross Castle was where Tommy made his dark covenant, where the theoretical Satanic Panic found its horrifying, real-world proof.
The structure—the focal point of both the Satanic Panic and the enduring myths of the road—was officially deemed unsafe and demolished in 1988, the same year of the Sullivan tragedy. The act of tearing down the castle was seen by some as an exorcism, an attempt to erase the physical monument to all the real and spectral evil that haunted North Jersey.
Today, only the overgrown foundation of Cross Castle remains, but the memory of its darkness lingers. The ten-mile desolate stretch of Clinton Road, straddling the line between suburban reality and supernatural fear, remains a haunted landscape.
*For a more detailed look into the Tommy Sullivan tragedy, check out The Devil Within podcast. Eli Roth did, and there’s now a limited series you can watch, too: Let the Devil In.