It is a gorgeous house. Truly. If you drive down that specific stretch of suburban New Jersey, 657 Blvd Westfield NJ looks exactly like the kind of place you'd want to raise a family. It has that shingle-style Dutch Colonial charm, a big porch, and a sense of permanence that usually implies safety. But for Derek and Maria Broaddus, it turned into a multi-year psychological gauntlet that basically rewrote the rules of suburban nightmares.
Most people know the story because of the Netflix show. Honestly, the show took some massive liberties. It added secret tunnels and cults that just didn't exist in the real police reports. The reality was much quieter, much more intimate, and arguably way scarier because it could actually happen to anyone buying a home.
The Letters That Changed Everything
The Broadduses bought the property in June 2014 for about $1.3 million. They hadn't even moved in yet. They were doing some light renovations—painting, fixing up the floors—when the first envelope arrived in the mailbox. It wasn't a bill. It wasn't a "welcome to the neighborhood" card from a local realtor.
It was a white, thick envelope addressed to "The New Owner."
Inside was a letter from someone calling themselves The Watcher. The tone wasn't just creepy; it was possessive. The writer claimed their family had been watching the house for decades. Their father watched it in the 1960s. Their grandfather in the 1920s. Now, it was their turn.
"I pass by many times a day. 657 Boulevard is my job, my life, my obsession. And now you are too Broaddus family."
Think about that for a second. You just dropped over a million dollars on your dream home. You're excited. Then you read a sentence where a stranger identifies your children by their nicknames and asks for "young blood." It's enough to make anyone's stomach drop.
The letters specifically mentioned the "young blood" of the couple's three children. The writer asked if the parents had discovered what was "in the walls" yet. Naturally, the Broadduses stopped the move-in process immediately. They went to the police, but Westfield is a quiet, wealthy town. They weren't exactly equipped for a high-stakes stalking case involving a ghost-like figure who seemed to know every move the contractors made inside the house.
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Why the Neighborhood Turned Sour
You'd think the neighbors would be supportive. Well, not exactly. As the story went viral, the vibe in Westfield shifted. People started looking at the Broadduses with suspicion.
There's this weird thing that happens in affluent suburbs when a "tragedy" isn't a fire or a flood, but something "creepy." People get protective of their property values. When the Broadduses realized they couldn't live in the house—Maria was literally having panic attacks at the thought of it—they tried to sell it.
But who wants to buy a house with a resident stalker?
When they couldn't sell, they proposed tearing it down and splitting the lot to build two smaller homes. The neighborhood went nuclear. The planning board meetings were packed. People argued that a subdivision would "ruin the character" of the street. It felt like the town cared more about the aesthetic of a Dutch Colonial than the safety of a family being harassed.
This led to the "Hoax Theory."
Some neighbors, and a lot of internet sleuths on Reddit, started claiming the Broadduses wrote the letters themselves. The theory was they had buyer's remorse and wanted an out. It’s a pretty cold theory considering the financial ruin the family was facing, but it gained enough traction that the Westfield Police Department actually asked the family for DNA samples and handwriting snacks to clear them.
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They were cleared. But the damage was done.
The Investigation (And Why It Failed)
Former Union County Assistant Prosecutor Lee Wasserman and various private investigators looked into every single person on that block. They looked at the Langfords next door. Michael Langford had lived there since the 60s and was described as a bit eccentric, but there was zero physical evidence linking him to the letters.
The police even looked into a "dark runner" seen on a nearby property, but that lead went nowhere.
One of the most frustrating parts of the 657 Blvd Westfield NJ saga is the DNA. A female DNA profile was found on one of the envelopes. The investigators tested the neighborhood women. Nothing. They even tested Maria Broaddus. No match.
It was a dead end.
The Watcher was smart. They never left fingerprints. They never made a physical appearance that could be captured on the cameras the family eventually installed. They stayed in the shadows, literally a "watcher" and nothing more. The psychological weight of that—knowing someone is looking at your windows but never seeing them—is why the family eventually sold the house in 2019 for $959,000.
They lost over $400,000.
The House Today
The new owners, Andrew and Allison Mockler, seem to be doing just fine. Since they moved in, there have been no reported letters. Some people think The Watcher "got what they wanted" by driving the Broadduses out. Others think the intense media scrutiny—and the subsequent Netflix deal—scared the writer off for good.
If you go there now, please don't be "that person." The neighborhood is tired of tourists. People still drive by to take pictures, which is technically legal on a public street, but it's a private residence in a real community.
What We Can Learn From the 657 Blvd Saga
If you’re ever in a situation where a property feels... off, or you're facing a similar harassment scenario, there are actually practical steps to take that go beyond just calling the cops.
- Digital and Physical Surveillance: The Broadduses installed high-end cameras, but today’s tech is better. If you're being watched, thermal imaging and motion-activated logging are standard.
- Public Record Awareness: The Watcher likely got the family’s names from public records or the "Sold" sign. When buying a high-profile home, some people choose to buy through an LLC to keep their names off the paperwork.
- Mental Health Support: The trauma of being stalked is real. The Broadduses sought professional help to deal with the PTSD of the letters. Never ignore the psychological toll of your "safe space" feeling invaded.
- Legal Recourse: Before buying, checking the "history" of a home usually means looking for deaths or structural issues. In some states, "stigmatized properties" have different disclosure rules. In New Jersey, sellers don't necessarily have to disclose "psychological" stigmas unless asked directly.
The story of the house at 657 Blvd Westfield NJ isn't just a ghost story without a ghost. It's a lesson in how quickly the American Dream can turn into a legal and financial anchor. The "Watcher" might still be out there, or they might be gone, but the letters they wrote are now part of New Jersey lore forever.
If you're fascinated by the case, stick to the long-form reporting by Reeves Wiedeman in The Cut. It’s the definitive account that sticks to the facts rather than the Hollywood flair.
Moving Forward
- Check Local Disclosure Laws: If you're buying in NJ, specifically ask your agent about any "notorious" history or neighborhood disputes.
- Evaluate Security: If you move into a new place, change the locks and consider a modern security system before you spend your first night there.
- Privacy First: Avoid posting photos of your new house keys or your street address on social media immediately after closing. Stalkers often find their targets through simple geo-tagged posts.
The Broaddus family has moved on and is reportedly living in a much more private location elsewhere in Westfield. They survived the ordeal, but the house on the Boulevard remains a monument to a mystery that might never be solved.