Case File #011: The Watcher House – Someone Was Watching 657 Boulevard

Status: Unsolved – Criminal Harassment
Date Filed: June 2014
Last Reviewed: May 31, 2025
Location: Westfield, New Jersey, USA
Subjects: Derek & Maria Broaddus – Anonymous Letter Writer “The Watcher”
Filed Under: Modern Paranoia – Stalking – Psychological Terror
Access Level: Public Case – Legal Documents Redacted

Introduction: A Dream Home Turns into a Nightmare

In June 2014, Derek and Maria Broaddus bought what they believed was their forever home in the quiet, affluent suburb of Westfield, New Jersey. The six-bedroom house at 657 Boulevard was elegant, spacious, and located in one of the safest neighborhoods in America. But just days after closing on the property, they received a letter in the mailbox—typed, anonymous, and addressed to “The New Owner.”

It was the beginning of a nightmare that never truly ended. The sender, calling themselves “The Watcher,” claimed to have been watching the house for decades—and made it chillingly clear:
"My grandfather watched the house in the 1920s, and my father watched in the 1960s. Now it is my time."

The Broaddus family never moved in.

The First Letter: “You Have Brought Me the Young Blood”

The first letter was polite in tone, but laced with menace. It referenced the house’s past owners, asked personal questions (“Have they found what’s in the walls yet?”), and fixated on the Broaddus children, whom the writer referred to as “young blood.”

More terrifying, the Watcher seemed to know things that hadn’t been made public:

• The names and birth order of the children (none had been listed anywhere).
• Interior renovations the family had only just begun.
• Details only visible from inside the house or very close to it.

"Do you need to fill the house with the young blood I requested?"
"Once I know their names, I will call to them and draw them to me."

The Broadduses were shaken. They contacted the police immediately.

More Letters, More Fear

The second letter arrived weeks later, even more hostile. It mocked their renovations:
"The house is crying from all the pain you are causing it."
It referenced observing them and their children.
"I see already that you have flooded 657 Boulevard with contractors so that you can destroy the house as it was supposed to be."

By the third letter, the tone had shifted toward open threat:
"Where have you gone to? 657 Boulevard is missing you."
"Let the young blood play again like I once did… Stop changing it and let it alone."

The family began to live in terror. They installed security systems, motion detectors, and hired a private investigator. They even reached out to a former FBI profiler, who stated that the letter writer was likely an older individual, possibly a neighbor, someone deeply obsessed.

The Neighborhood Closes In

Police began investigating. Their first suspect was Michael Langford, a neighbor with schizophrenia, whose house allowed a direct line of sight to the Broaddus property. He lived with his elderly mother and had a history of odd behavior.

Yet, nothing conclusive tied him to the letters. Handwriting didn’t match. DNA tests on the envelope pointed to a female, but no matches were found.

The family also explored the idea that someone resented them for buying the house. 657 Boulevard had multiple bidders, and the Broadduses had outbid several neighbors. Was The Watcher one of them?

Westfield, a town known for its peace and decorum, became paranoid. Suspicion poisoned the air. Everyone was a suspect—and yet no one could be proven guilty.

Lawsuit, Laws, and a Netflix Deal

After failing to sell the house—buyers were scared off by the growing local legend—the Broaddus family sued the previous owners for not disclosing the first anonymous letter they had received. The case was dismissed.

They never lived in the house. Instead, they rented it to tenants—who also received a letter from The Watcher.

In 2019, Netflix released a fictionalized series inspired by the case, titled The Watcher. The Broadduses sold the house at a loss, and eventually moved away—emotionally scarred, financially devastated, and no closer to knowing who stalked them.

Key Details and Unresolved Clues

• No fingerprints or DNA matches were ever found.
• The letters were postmarked from nearby cities, suggesting the sender was local but avoiding surveillance.
• Neighbors claimed they never saw anyone suspicious, though some admitted to knowing the house was “strange.”
• A handwriting expert concluded the writer was deliberate, practiced, and possibly delusional.

Was it a neighbor? A prank gone too far? A former occupant? A scorned bidder? Or was it something darker—a person truly obsessed with the house itself, as if the property had a spirit demanding loyalty and sacrifice?

"657 Boulevard is my job, my life, my obsession… And now you are too, Broaddus family."
—The Watcher

Cultural Impact

The Watcher case isn’t just a creepy story—it’s a reflection of modern suburban paranoia. A safe neighborhood, a dream home, and an anonymous voice that turned it all into a psychological prison.

It echoes themes seen in gothic horror and haunted house tales—except this was real. No ghosts. Just a pen, paper, and someone watching.

The case has entered internet lore, referenced on podcasts, documentaries, and Reddit forums. It is studied alongside other unsolved modern stalker cases, and remains a favorite for those who fear what hides behind the curtain of normal life.

Conclusion: Some Houses Never Belong to You

The Watcher House at 657 Boulevard is more than an address—it’s a symbol of invasion without entry, terror without sound, and the idea that sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you are never truly alone.

The letters stopped. But the question remains:

Who watched 657 Boulevard—and why?

References

All sources used in this case are listed in the References Archive. Each link corresponds to verified data, public records, or expert documentation.