Lucy the Margate Elephant: Why This 90-Ton Roadside Oddity Still Matters

Lucy the Margate Elephant: Why This 90-Ton Roadside Oddity Still Matters

You’re driving down Atlantic Avenue in Margate, New Jersey, past the upscale beach houses and the standard shore scenery, when suddenly a six-story wooden elephant is staring you in the face. It’s weird. It’s huge. Honestly, it’s a little bit unsettling if you aren’t expecting it. This is Lucy the Margate Elephant, and she’s been a fixture of the Jersey Shore since 1881.

Most people assume she’s just a quirky gift shop or a leftover prop from a long-lost circus. They’re wrong. Lucy is actually the oldest surviving roadside tourist attraction in the United States. She’s older than the Eiffel Tower. She’s older than the Statue of Liberty. And somehow, despite hurricanes, lightning strikes, and a very literal date with a demolition crew, she is still standing.

The Bizarre Origin of the World’s Largest Elephant

Lucy wasn't built to be a museum. She was a gimmick. Basically, a guy named James V. Lafferty had a bunch of sandy, empty lots in what was then called "South Atlantic City." Nobody wanted to buy them. It was just scrub pine and dunes. To fix his real estate problem, Lafferty decided he needed a "spectacle."

He didn't just build a big sign. He patented the idea of an animal-shaped building (U.S. Patent #268,503) and spent roughly $38,000—a fortune in the 1880s—to construct a 65-foot tall pachyderm.

👉 See also: Rain Forest Animals: Why We Still Don't Know Half of Them

Why an elephant?

Lafferty wanted something people could see from miles away. He figured if he could get potential buyers to climb into the "howdah" (the carriage on the elephant's back), they’d be so impressed by the 360-degree view of the coastline that they’d reach for their checkbooks.

It worked. Sorta.

People came by the thousands, arriving on the newly built railroad that stopped right at her feet. They’d spiral up the staircase in her left hind leg, marvel at the one million pieces of wood holding her together, and gaze out her eyes. But while the spectacle was a hit, Lafferty’s bank account wasn't. By 1887, he was broke and forced to sell his wooden masterpiece to the Gertzen family.

The Identity Crisis: Tavern, Home, and Speakeasy

If you think a giant elephant is weird, wait until you hear what people did inside her. For decades, Lucy was a chameleon. She’s been a restaurant, a business office, and even a tavern.

The tavern era ended abruptly with Prohibition, but not before she allegedly hosted some pretty rowdy parties.

In 1902, Sophia Gertzen officially gave the structure the name "Lucy." Before that, it was just the "Elephant Bazaar." Interestingly, Lucy is anatomically modeled after an Asian elephant (check the ears and the trunk), but she has tusks. In the real world, only male Asian elephants have large tusks. So, technically, "she" is a "he," but nobody in Margate is going to change the pronouns now.

Living inside a giant lung

In 1903, a British doctor actually moved his family into Lucy for the summer. Imagine cooking dinner in a room made of tin-clad wood while tourists gawk at your "front door" (which was a hole in the elephant's stomach).

They converted the interior into:

📖 Related: Finding the Best Sunset in Fort Wayne: Where to Actually Go Tonight

  • Four bedrooms
  • A dining room
  • A kitchen
  • A parlor
  • A bathroom (yes, there is still a bathtub inside Lucy)

The 1970 "Great Move" That Saved Her Life

By the 1960s, Lucy was a wreck. The salt air had shredded her tin skin. Rot was eating her bones. The land she sat on was sold to developers who wanted to build condos, and the city condemned the building. She was literally weeks away from being turned into toothpicks.

This is where the Save Lucy Committee comes in.

A group of local volunteers, led by Josephine Harron, refused to let her go. They raised money door-to-door, selling "Save Lucy" pins and hosting bake sales. On July 20, 1970, they did the unthinkable. They picked up the 90-ton elephant, put her on a massive trailer, and moved her two blocks down the street to a city-owned lot.

It took eight hours to move 100 yards.

Ever since then, Lucy's "birthday" is celebrated every July with a massive party and a literal pedicure. Every year, volunteers paint her giant toenails. Usually, the color is chosen by a popular vote on social media.

Recent Drama: The $500,000 Disappearing Act

If you visit today, you’ll notice she looks surprisingly shiny. That’s because she just finished a massive $2.1 million exterior restoration in 2022. They replaced her old tin skin with a high-tech nickel-copper alloy called Monel-400. It’s the same stuff used on high-end yacht hulls because it doesn't rust.

But it hasn't been all smooth sailing.

Just recently, in early 2025, Lucy hit a major financial snag. A $500,000 federal grant that was supposed to fund her interior restoration—fixing the water-damaged plaster and upgrading the 50-year-old air conditioning—was suddenly rescinded.

The "Save Lucy Committee" is currently scrambling to fill that half-million-dollar hole.

Rich Helfant, the executive director, has been pretty vocal about the "breach of contract," but they aren't giving up. They’re planning benefit concerts and even a "Lucy Oktoberfest" to keep the lights on. It’s a reminder that even a National Historic Landmark is only one bad budget cycle away from trouble.

What It’s Actually Like to Visit Lucy the Margate Elephant

Is it worth the $9? Yeah, honestly.

You enter through the rear leg. It’s tight. If you’re claustrophobic or have bad knees, the spiral staircase is going to be a challenge. But once you get into the main "belly" of the beast, the scale is wild. It feels like being inside the hull of an old ship, but with elephant-shaped windows.

Practical Tips for Your Trip

  • The View: The howdah is the highlight. You get a better view of the Atlantic City skyline from here than you do from most hotel balconies.
  • The "J" Mystery: Look at Lucy's toenails. One has a letter "J" on it. Some say it's for James Lafferty, others say it’s for Josephine Harron.
  • Parking: There are only about 10 spots on-site. If those are full, you’re hunting for street parking in a busy beach town. Good luck.
  • The Gift Shop: It’s currently in a temporary spot across the street while they build a brand-new visitor center (slated for 2026).

Why She Still Matters

In a world of digital theme parks and polished corporate attractions, Lucy the Margate Elephant is refreshingly weird. She represents a time when people built things just to see if they could. She’s survived the Great Depression, the 1944 Great Atlantic Hurricane, and Superstorm Sandy (which "just got her feet wet," according to staff).

She’s a survivor.

When you stand at the base of those 90 tons of wood and tin, you aren't just looking at a tourist trap. You're looking at the grit of a community that refused to let a piece of its weird history die.

Next Steps for Your Visit:
Before you head out, check the official website for current tour times, as they change seasonally. If you want to help keep the interior restoration alive, you can donate directly to the Save Lucy Committee or buy a "pedicure" ticket during her birthday celebration in July. Walking through a giant elephant is one of those "only in Jersey" experiences that actually lives up to the hype.