The Devils Tower

We’re going to New Jersey. I know, I KNOW, settle down. Trust me, it’s worth it.

You’re driving down a paved road, not a pot hole or heap of road kill in sight. On either side of the road is a massive rock wall, blocking your view from the mansions that hide on the other side. The trees are just as impressive as the deep pockets it must take to live here, they’re gangly branches hanging over the wall. Mansion after mansion rolls by as you start to feel even more poor then you already do with every blink of your tearing up eyeballs. This, my friends, is called The Esplanade.

Then you see it. A massive stone tower smack dab in the middle of the road. The lanes split and go around the tower, spitting you out on the other side as you crane your neck to see to the top. You park your car on the side of the road, hoping you don’t look like a robber to the folks who live there, and get out to take it in. This beautiful monstrosity is where she killed herself.

Harriet was married to a wealthy sugar importer, plantation owner, all around rich guy no matter which way you slice at it, named Manuel Rionda. He built the tower for Harriet in 1910 so she could look out at the New York City skyline. Now if that’s not a fancy over the top way of saying “get out of my hair so I can sleep around” I don’t know what is.

One night, Harriet was walking through the underground tunnel that connected the tower to the house (are you kidding me) and took the elevator (Are. You. Kidding. Me.) to the top of the tower to take a peek at the skyline. Harriet did not get to enjoy the city lights that night. Instead she caught a glimpse of Manuel with another woman.

Harriet was so upset and PISSED that she likely had a few choice words before jumping from a window at the top of the tower. Now, let me tell you all something. If I caught a birds eye view of my husband with someone else, I would be in that elevator, thru the tunnel and THERE quicker than you can say “OH HELLLLLLLL NO!” Then I would’ve dragged both of their sorry asses back thru the tunnel, into the elevator, up to the top and BOTH of them would be AIRBORNE!!! But, this isn’t about me.

Harriet was buried nearby on their property but was later moved to an actual cemetery. It seems as though she wasn’t quite ready to leave, however. Manuel eventually locked up the tower and sealed off the tunnel after hearing the footsteps and sobbing of his late wife while visiting the tower. He even took the elevator out of the tower so nobody could get to the top again.

Manuel died in the 1950’s and the town decided to tear down the tower. After several construction workers fell to their deaths during what must have been the most intense game of Jenga that ever existed, it was decided that the tower would stay. People still report hearing unexplainable noises and weeping. Some even claim they catch a quick wiff of woman’s perfume when visiting the tower.

Somewhere along the way it earned the name of ‘The Devils Tower’ which is a far cry from its original name, Rio Vista. This could be because of the Satanist’s that would gather there in the 1980s to do their rituals and black mass shenanigans, or it could be just to add to the creep factor.

This is the version that I think people want to believe. It has been noted that Harriet actually died of natural causes and the tower was built as a water tower for the couples pressurized water fountains (that seems a bit much.) I'm not sure how a building full of windows could be a water tower, but what do I know. I'm not an engineer. Other rumors have the tower as being erected for religious purposes. No matter what the real reason behind its existence, the place literally took my breath away.

I got out of the car and while I neither heard nor smelled anything otherworldly, I will admit to having trouble breathing the closer I got to the tower. I know what you’re thinking. I am fit as a fiddle and it was not an uphill climb. The closer I got to it the harder it was for me to put one foot in front of the other. I stopped about half way there and just took the pics from where I was standing. I found it hard to stand there, let alone actually LOOK at the tower. I am not sure what my issue was. When I got home and looked at my photos I got very sweaty and almost sick. I didn’t want anything to do with the photos or with any story surrounding the tower, yet here I am writing about it anyway. I’m not sure why I get the way I do with it, but I know I will not go back there.

Wherever Harriet is now and however she got there, I am inclined to say I think there is someone still wandering through that tower.