The case of The Watcher of 657 Boulevard revolves around a series of mysterious and threatening letters from the Broaddus family, who had purchased the house. The letters, signed by “The Watcher,” contained disturbing details about the house and its occupants.
Despite efforts by the police and the Broadduses, the identity of The Watcher could not be determined. The case garnered media attention, sparked rumors and conspiracy theories, and left the Broaddus family in a state of fear and uncertainty. This is a detailed, free blog on what really took place.
The Haunting of 657 Boulevard Begins
For the Broaddus family, purchasing 657 Boulevard was a dream come true. Having grown up in Westfield, Maria (wife of Derek Broaddus) found joy in the house being just a few blocks from her childhood home. On the other hand, Derek Broaddus had humble beginnings in Maine.
Still, he had climbed the corporate ladder at an insurance company in Manhattan, eventually reaching the position of senior vice president, enabling him to afford the $1.3 million house. The timing of the purchase was serendipitous, coinciding with Derek’s 40th birthday celebration.
In June 2014, Derek found himself outside his newly purchased home in Westfield, New Jersey, after a productive evening of painting. It had been only three days since Derek and his wife, Maria, closed the deal on the spacious six-bedroom house at 657 Boulevard.
They were excited about the purchase and had planned some renovations before officially moving in. On that particular night, as Derek checked the mail, he found a small white envelope resembling a card among the bills.
The envelope was addressed to “The New Owner” in distinctive, somewhat clumsy handwriting. Inside, a typed note greeted them warmly:
Dearest new neighbor at 657 Boulevard,
Allow me to welcome you to the neighborhood.
However, as Derek delved further into the letter from their mysterious new neighbor, the tone took an unsettling turn. Questions emerged, challenging their presence at 657 Boulevard. “How did you find yourself here?” the writer inquired. “Did the house, with its inherent power, beckon you?” The letter continued:
657 Boulevard has held the fascination of my family for generations. As it approaches its 110th birthday, I have been entrusted with the duty of observing and awaiting its rebirth. My grandfather diligently watched over the house in the 1920s, followed by my father in the 1960s.
“Now, it is my turn. Are you aware of the house’s history? Do you comprehend the secrets concealed within the walls of 657 Boulevard? Why have you come? I will discover the truth.”
Evidently, the author had already commenced their reconnaissance. The letter disclosed knowledge of the Broadduses’ Honda minivan and the ongoing renovations conducted by workers. “I have already noticed your excessive presence of contractors within 657 Boulevard, aiming to dismantle its original essence,” the writer scolded.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk… a regrettable decision. You wouldn’t want to displease 657 Boulevard.” Earlier that week, Derek and Maria had visited the property and engaged in friendly conversations with their new neighbors. Meanwhile, their children, aged 5, 8, and 10, frolicked in the backyard alongside local kids. It appeared that the anonymous sender had taken notice.
“You have children. I have observed them. Thus far, I have counted three,” the enigmatic correspondent mentioned before posing the question of whether more were expected in the future.
The white envelope remained devoid of any return address. “Who am I?” the sender questioned. “Countless cars pass by 657 Boulevard every day. Perhaps I am among them. Observe the numerous windows visible from 657 Boulevard.
Maybe I am behind one. Look through any of the many windows of 657 Boulevard at the individuals who leisurely stroll by each day. Maybe I am one of them.”
The unsettling letter concluded with a suggestion that this communication marked only the beginning: “Welcome, my dear friends, welcome. Let the festivities commence.” The signature, rendered in a cursive font, read: “The Watcher.”
It was well past 10 p.m., and Derek Broaddus was alone in the house. Hastily, he scurried through each room, switching off lights to shield the interior from prying eyes. In a state of alarm, he dialed the Westfield Police Department.
An officer promptly arrived at the scene, examined the letter, and exclaimed, “What on earth is this?” Sensing Derek’s concern, the officer inquired about potential enemies and advised relocating a piece of construction equipment from the back porch to prevent The Watcher from hurling it through a window.
Derek hurriedly returned to his wife and children, who resided in their previous home elsewhere in Westfield. That night, filled with trepidation, Derek and Maria wrote an email to John and Andrea Woods, who had sold them 657 Boulevard.
They sought insight into the identity of The Watcher and the motive behind the disturbing statement: “I asked the Woods to bring me young blood, and it looks like they listened.”
The following morning, Andrea Woods responded. She informed the Broadduses that they had received a peculiar letter from “The Watcher” a few days before their move. Andrea described the letter as unusual, mentioning that it made reference to The Watcher family observing the house throughout time.
However, she and her husband disregarded it and discarded the letter without much consideration. Given these circumstances, the Woodses accompanied Maria to the local police station. Detective Leonard Lugo advised Maria not to disclose the letters’ existence to anyone, including their new neighbors, who were now considered potential suspects, despite Maria’s limited acquaintance with them.
In the ensuing weeks, the Broadduses lived in a state of heightened vigilance. Derek canceled a business trip, and whenever Maria brought their children to the new house, she would call out their names if they wandered into secluded areas of the property.
During a tour of the renovation for a couple from the neighborhood, Derek was taken aback when the wife remarked, “It’ll be nice to have some young blood in the neighborhood.” One morning, the general contractor arrived at the house only to discover that a heavy sign he had firmly planted in the front yard had been forcibly removed overnight.
Two weeks after receiving the initial letter, Maria visited the house to examine paint samples and collect the mail. She immediately recognized the card-shaped envelope with its bold black lettering and promptly contacted the police.
The Watcher’s second message began, “Welcome again to your new home at 657 Boulevard.” It mentioned the presence of workers and the observation of the Broadduses unloading their personal belongings. The letter commended the presence of a dumpster, hinting at potential discoveries within the house’s walls.
This time, The Watcher addressed Derek and Maria directly, albeit misspelling their surname as “Braddus.” Could The Watcher have overheard one of the Broadduses’ contractors referring to them? The letter boasted of having gleaned significant information about the family over the preceding weeks, particularly regarding their children.
Each child was identified by birth order and their respective nicknames—names that Maria had been vocally using. “I am pleased to know your names now and the name of the young blood you have brought to me,” the letter declared. “You certainly say their names often.”
The writer inquired specifically about one child whom they had observed using an easel within an enclosed porch, questioning if she was the artistic member of the family.
“657 Boulevard eagerly awaits your arrival. It has been countless years since the energy of youth roamed its corridors. Have you discovered all the enigmatic secrets it harbors? Will the young blood dare to venture into the basement? Or are they too fearful to descend alone?
“If I were in their shoes, I would tremble with trepidation. The basement is a realm far removed from the rest of the house. Even if you were upstairs, their screams would remain unheard.
“Shall you slumber in the attic? Or will your slumbers be confined to the second floor? Who among you will occupy the bedrooms facing the street? I shall discern the moment you settle in. Such knowledge will aid me in orchestrating my plans.
“Every window and doorway within 657 Boulevard grants me a vantage point to observe and monitor your every move. Who am I? I am the Watcher, the one who has wielded dominion over 657 Boulevard for the better part of two decades. The Woods family relinquished control to you, willingly parting ways when I requested it of them.
I pass by numerous times throughout the day. 657 Boulevard is my occupation and my entire existence—my obsession. And now, Braddus family, you too have become part of this grand tapestry. Welcome to the culmination of your own avarice! It was greed that lured the previous three families to 657 Boulevard, and now it has delivered you into my grasp.
May your moving-in day be filled with delight. Rest assured, I shall be watching.”
Derek and Maria ceased bringing their children to the house. Uncertainty shrouded their plans to move in—if they would at all. Several weeks elapsed before the arrival of a third letter. “Where have you vanished to?” The Watcher penned.
“657 Boulevard yearns for your presence.”
Attempting to purchase a house in Westfield was a venture fraught with peril, a fact well-known to the locals. “There’s a substantial amount of money and ego involved,” disclosed an anonymous resident familiar with the town’s real estate scene.
“I’ve witnessed bidding wars where friends lost by a mere $300,000.” The Broadduses’ new abode, situated on the esteemed Boulevard, a wide, tree-lined street adorned with highly coveted residences, held a special significance, as The Watcher had astutely recognized: “The Boulevard used to be THE street to live on… You achieved success by residing on the Boulevard.”
Erected in 1905, 657 Boulevard stood as one of the most majestic dwellings on the block. When the Woodses listed it for sale, they received multiple offers that surpassed their asking price. This led the Broadduses to initially speculate that The Watcher might be an aggrieved individual who had missed out on acquiring the house.
However, the Woodses disclosed that one potential buyer had withdrawn after a distressing medical diagnosis, while another had already settled on a different property. In an email to the Broadduses, Andrea Woods put forth an alternative theory: “Could it be someone from the neighborhood, considering the mention of contractor trucks and your children?”
The letters did suggest proximity, as they were processed at Kearny, the U.S. Postal Service’s distribution center in northern New Jersey. The first letter bore a postmark from June 4, preceding the public announcement of the sale—since the Woodses had not displayed a “for sale” sign—and a mere day after the arrival of the contractors.
Most of the renovations focused on the interior, and nearby residents claimed not to have noticed any unusual disturbances, even during the basement’s jackhammering. During their walk-through of the property with Detective Lugo, Derek, and Maria revealed that dense foliage concealed the easel on the porch from the street, rendering it challenging to see unless one was situated behind the house or in close proximity.
A few days after receiving the first letter, Maria and Derek attended a neighborhood barbecue held across the street to welcome them and another new resident to the block. Adhering to the police’s instructions, the Broadduses had refrained from divulging any information about The Watcher.
Nonetheless, they found themselves surreptitiously scrutinizing the gathering for potential clues while vigilantly keeping an eye on their children, who frolicked carefree amidst a crowd encompassing much of the suspect pool. “We kept shouting for them to stay nearby,” Maria recounted. “People must have thought we were insane.”
Possible Suspects on Who the Watcher at 657 Boulevard Might Be
Upon learning about the Langford family from his neighbor, Derek believed he had solved the case. The Langford residence was situated right next to the porch easel, and according to the letters, The Watcher family had been observing 657 Boulevard since the 1960s.
Richard Langford, the Langford family patriarch, had passed away twelve years prior, and the current Watcher claimed to have been on the job for nearly two decades.
When Derek informed Detective Lugo about the Langfords, Lugo revealed that he was already aware of them. A week after receiving the first letter, Lugo brought Michael Langford, one of the younger Langford family members, in for questioning.
Michael denied any knowledge of the letters, but according to the Broadduses, Lugo informed them that Michael’s statement aligned with certain details mentioned in the letters. Lugo remarked to the Broadduses, “This isn’t CSI: Westfield,” implying that hard evidence was lacking. He seemed to adhere to the notion that the husband is usually responsible when a wife is targeted.
Frustrated by the lack of progress, the Broadduses took matters into their own hands and embarked on their own investigation. Derek became consumed by the case, setting up webcams inside 657 Boulevard and spending nights hidden in the darkness, meticulously observing any potential surveillance of the house from close proximity.
Derek’s obsession and proactive measures were met with skepticism from Maria, who considered his actions to be irrational.
In their investigation, Derek compiled various documents related to the case, including copies of the letters, which they had shared with only a select few friends and family members. He displayed a map highlighting the timeline of each of 657 Boulevard’s neighbors’ arrivals, with specific overlays indicating possible sightlines for the easel and a circle representing the “Approximate Range of Ear Shot” to identify who might have heard Maria calling out their children’s names. Based on these criteria, only a few neighboring houses met the conditions.
The Broaddus Seek Help to Solve the Watcher Case
The Broadduses soon sought the help of various experts to assist them in uncovering the identity of The Watcher. They hired a private investigator who conducted surveillance in the neighborhood and performed background checks on the Langford family, but no significant findings emerged.
Derek also reached out to a former FBI agent, who had served as the inspiration for the character Clarice Starling in “The Silence of the Lambs.” Additionally, they enlisted the services of Robert Lenehan, another former FBI agent, to conduct a threat assessment.
Lenehan identified certain characteristics in the letters that pointed to an older writer. The envelopes were addressed to “M/M Braddus,” the salutations mentioned the day’s weather, and there were double spaces between sentences.
The letters displayed a certain literary flair, suggesting that the writer was a “voracious reader”
Surprisingly, despite the intense anger expressed, the letters lacked profanity, indicating a less “macho” writer. Lenehan speculated whether The Watcher had seen the movie “The Watcher,” featuring Keanu Reeves as a serial killer who stalks a detective.
While Lenehan did not believe that The Watcher was likely to act on the threats, the presence of typos and errors in the letters indicated a certain level of erraticism. For instance, the first letter was dated “Tuesday, June 4th,” even though that day was actually a Wednesday.
There was a noticeable “seething anger” directed toward the affluent residents of the town. The Watcher expressed displeasure with new residents bringing money into Westfield and even criticized the Broadduses for their relatively modest renovations to the house.
The house is crying from all of the pain it is going through. You have changed it and made it so fancy. You are stealing its [sic] history. It cries for the past and what used to be in the time when I roamed its halls. The 1960s were a good time for 657 Boulevard when I ran from room to room imagining life with the rich occupants there. The house was full of life and young blood. Then it got old, and so did my father. But he kept watching until the day he died. And now I watch and wait for the day when the young blood will be mine again.
Despite focusing on the Langford family, no significant breakthroughs occurred in identifying The Watcher. Lee Levitt, the Broadduses’ lawyer, met with members of the Langford family and their attorney to show them the letters and provide evidence regarding the vantage points from which the easel could be seen.
However, the meeting grew tense, and the Langfords maintained that Michael Langford was innocent.
Meanwhile, Maria experienced vivid dreams and paranoia, suspecting almost anyone could be The Watcher. She examined the faces of shoppers at Trader Joe’s, looking for any suspicious behavior towards her children, and conducted extensive online research on individuals she deemed suspicious.
There were alternative suspects to consider as well. The police had interviewed Michael Langford before the second letter was sent, making it risky for him to send two more. Additionally, the private investigator discovered two child sex offenders in the vicinity, and the Broadduses’ house painter, Bill Woodward, noticed a strange occurrence involving the neighbors behind 657 Boulevard.
An older man would sit in a lawn chair, facing the Broadduses’ property instead of his own.
However, by the end of 2014, the investigation had reached a standstill. The Watcher had left no digital trace or physical evidence that could pinpoint their identity or connection to the case. The letters could be scrutinized for possible clues or dismissed as the ramblings of a disturbed individual.
The Westfield police informed the Broadduses that they had exhausted their options. In December, Derek sought solace and support from his priest, who agreed to bless the house.
The Watcher Case Gains National Attention
Under the national spotlight, Barron Chambliss, a veteran detective from the Westfield police, was brought in to review the case. He believed that the Broadduses had not received the necessary support during the initial investigation.
Chambliss was aware that his colleagues had focused on Michael Langford as a possible suspect. Michael had been diagnosed with schizophrenia in his youth and had sometimes engaged in unusual behavior toward newcomers, such as walking through their backyards or looking into windows of homes under renovation.
However, people who knew him personally claimed that these actions were mostly acts of neighborly kindness. Chambliss spoke with individuals who had known Michael for many years, and they didn’t believe he could write the threatening letters.
During his investigation, Chambliss made an intriguing discovery. It was revealed that investigators had conducted a DNA analysis on one of the envelopes and determined that the DNA belonged to a woman. This led Chambliss to focus his attention on Abby Langford, Michael’s sister, who worked as a real estate agent.
He considered the possibility that she might have been upset about missing out on a commission for a property next door. Chambliss coordinated with a security guard at the local Lord & Taylor, where Abby also worked, to obtain a sample of her DNA from a plastic water bottle.
However, the DNA sample did not match the DNA found on the envelope. Subsequently, the prosecutor’s office informed Derek and Maria that the Langfords had been ruled out as suspects, but they did not disclose the reasons behind their decision.
The Broadduses were shocked by this development. They had recently informed the prosecutors of their intention to file civil charges against the Langfords. They wondered if the decision to rule them out as suspects was a ploy to prevent further public attention.
Sandy Langford, Michael’s brother, expressed his frustration, stating that their family had lived on the boulevard for decades without causing any problems, and now fingers were being pointed at them due to these letters.
With no official suspects remaining, the Broadduses continued their personal investigation. They were cautious about sharing too much information with their neighbors. Still, they walked around the block with a picture of The Watcher’s handwritten envelope, hoping someone might recognize the writing style from a Christmas card or other correspondence.
However, they didn’t receive any significant leads. They engaged the services of Kroll, a security firm whose CEO lived across the street, to search for handwriting matches but found nothing. They also hired Robert Leonard, a renowned forensic linguist, to analyze local online forums for similarities to The Watcher’s writing.
Still, no significant connections were found besides a possible reference to Game of Thrones. At one point, Derek considered using a hacker to access Wi-Fi networks in the neighborhood in search of incriminating evidence. Still, he decided against it due to its illegality and practical difficulties.
Chambliss and the Westfield police found themselves back at square one with no solid leads. They requested a DNA sample from Andrea Woods and interviewed her 21-year-old son, who was surprised to be considered a suspect.
Despite their efforts, fresh leads were scarce, and they discovered that another family on the Boulevard had received a similar letter from The Watcher around the same time as the Broadduses. However, that family discarded the letter and did not come forward with the information.
It only emerged later when one of their children briefly mentioned it on Facebook before deleting the post. When investigators spoke to this family, they confirmed the similarities between the letters, but it added to the overall confusion of the case. Chambliss described the lack of substantial leads, saying, “There wasn’t a whole lot to go on.”
Possible Watcher Suspect of 657 Boulevard
During one night of surveillance, Chambliss and a partner sat in the back of a van parked on the Boulevard, observing the house through binoculars. Around 11 p.m., a car stopped before the house, raising Chambliss’s suspicion. He traced the car back to a young woman in a neighboring town whose boyfriend lived on the same block as 657 Boulevard.
According to Chambliss, the woman mentioned that her boyfriend was involved in dark video games and specifically recalled a game where he played a character called “The Watcher.” Chambliss speculated that the girlfriend or someone else could have been involved in the case and contributed to the female DNA found on the envelope.
Although the boyfriend agreed to be interviewed, he failed to appear on two separate occasions. Without sufficient evidence to compel his cooperation and with the media attention subsiding, Chambliss eventually closed the case and moved on to other investigations.
The Broaddus Family Faces Criticism
As the story of The Watcher unfolded, the Broadduses found themselves consumed by stress and fear, while for the rest of Westfield, it turned into a creepy urban legend. People in the neighborhood struggled to comprehend that something so sinister could be happening in their idyllic community.
In an attempt to make sense of the situation, some neighbors even speculated that the Broadduses had sent the letters to themselves as part of an elaborate scheme. The theories ranged from buyer’s remorse to insurance fraud to seeking a movie deal.
The fact that the Broadduses had upgraded their homes over the years and refinanced their mortgages also fueled suspicions among some locals.
A few weeks after the letters became public, an article published in the Westfield Leader featured anonymous neighbors questioning the Broadduses’ motives and actions. The article cast doubt on Maria’s commitment to her family’s safety, citing her public Facebook page with a photo of her children.
However, the police had already tested Maria’s DNA and confirmed it didn’t match the samples found on the letters.
None of these theories held much logical ground, and the Broadduses had answers to refute each one. However, the rumors persisted since they had chosen not to speak publicly. Even some Westfield police officers believed in the conspiracy theory.
Online platforms also harbored skeptics who accused the family of orchestrating a scam. These accusations took aback the Broadduses, as they had been part of the community for a long time and had deep roots in the area.
Derek believed that some residents of Westfield preferred the conspiracy theory because it allowed them to maintain their belief that their town was safe and immune to such disturbing incidents. They struggled to accept that a menace like The Watcher could exist within their community.
The Broadduses’ experience challenged their notion of safety and forced them to confront the unsettling reality that such events could happen in Westfield.
Some of the locals expressed more concern about the potential negative impact of national press coverage on Westfield’s reputation. Their worries ranged from property value to the stigma attached to the neighborhood.
Mark LoGrippo, the neighborhood’s representative on the Westfield town council, noted that residents were primarily concerned about protecting their property values and the image of the neighborhood.
After receiving the threatening letters from The Watcher, the Broadduses found themselves ostracized not just from their home but also from the town itself. Derek wanted to leave Westfield, but Maria was determined not to uproot their children.
She was determined not to let The Watcher take more from their lives. Two years later, the Broadduses borrowed money from family members to purchase a second home in Westfield, keeping its location private through the use of an LLC.
However, staying in town remained a stressful experience for them.
Maria’s worries were evident in her constant monitoring of her daughter’s whereabouts through her iPhone tracker, even during activities like going to the pool with friends. The family’s ordeal also affected their children’s experiences at school, such as when their language arts class debated whether a fictional family should move to Westfield, with the majority emphasizing the town’s safety.
Despite their child’s assertion that Westfield was not as safe as it seemed, other children held onto the belief that the town was secure, demonstrating the lingering impact of the stigma associated with the Broadduses’ situation.
The Broadduses received another letter from The Watcher two and a half years after the initial incident. By this time, they had gotten a renter. This time, the letter arrived while Derek was at the house dealing with squirrels on the roof.
The renter of the house handed him the envelope, which contained a menacing message. Dated February 13, the same day the Broadduses gave depositions in their lawsuit against the Woodses, the letter was filled with anger and directed specifically at Derek and Maria.
The letter indicated that the writer had been closely following the media coverage of the case and was aware of Derek’s attempts to investigate the matter discreetly. It mentioned the presence of news trucks in the neighborhood and how the writer had observed Derek’s surveillance efforts using telescopes and binoculars.
The letter also made reference to the attempted demolition of the house, stating that it had withstood the assault and was saved by The Watcher’s followers. The letter included a mention of the current renter, who was spooked but agreed to stay if the Broadduses installed security cameras.
The letter’s tone was more wrathful than previous ones, suggesting that revenge could come in various forms, including accidents, fires, illnesses, and even the death of loved ones or pets. The Broadduses felt as though they were back at the beginning of the ordeal.
However, the letter provided fresh evidence that could potentially reinvigorate the investigation.
Derek took the letter to the police headquarters, where a detective examined a neighborhood map. Based on the letter’s content, the detective circled a 300-yard radius around the house, suggesting that The Watcher must be within that range.
However, Derek had a different perspective and believed that The Watcher was likely residing in one of the ten houses closest to 657 Boulevard. This new lead gave them hope that the investigation could progress and possibly identify The Watcher’s true identity.
The Status of The Watcher of 657 Boulevard Now
The Broadduses no longer live in constant fear of The Watcher’s presence but continue to face the lingering effects of the letters. While they have found a new tenant for 657 Boulevard, the rental income does not cover the mortgage, adding financial strain.
Their children occasionally face teasing at school, and the rumors and conspiratorial accusations against them persist. Although they try to avoid those who spoke out against their planning-board application or accused them of being con artists, the nature of suburban life makes it impossible to avoid such encounters completely.
Derek experiences heightened anxiety when he encounters individuals who are critical of their situation, evoking the same feeling he had during hockey matches before a fight. Maria, too, confronts those who have caused harm to her family.
In one instance, she approached the head of the planning board after a spin class at the YMCA and expressed how his actions continue to hurt her family.
While most people in Westfield rarely think about The Watcher anymore, Derek and Maria are surprised to learn that their struggles are still ongoing. Looking back, they contemplate whether it would have been better to sell the house at a loss early on, as the emotional pain associated with 657 Boulevard prevents them from ever considering moving in.
They hope that a few years of incident-free renting will improve their chances of selling the property. The prosecutor’s office continues its investigation, although the Broadduses acknowledge the slim likelihood of The Watcher ever being caught and the potential for minimal legal consequences.
Interestingly, The Watcher was no longer the sole sender of anonymous letters in Westfield. On some Christmas Eve, several families received hand-delivered envelopes in their mailboxes. These letters were specifically sent to individuals who had been vocal in criticizing the Broadduses online.
The content of the letters, signed as “Friends of the Broaddus Family,” was weirdly poetic, similar to The Watcher’s letters. They accused the families of speculating inaccurately about the Broadduses and included stories about recent acts of domestic terrorism where signs of mental illness had gone unnoticed.
The Broadduses find themselves caught in a web of ongoing consequences, trying to navigate their lives while hoping for resolution and a sense of peace.
Indeed, the house at 657 Boulevard was eventually sold to Andrew and Allison Carr for $959,000, resulting in a significant financial loss of $400,000 for the Broadduses. The identity of “The Watcher” remains unknown, and it appears that the current owners, the Carrs, have not received any letters or communication from the elusive figure.
While the case remains unsolved, it is uncertain whether any further developments will occur in the future. The story of The Watcher and the eerie events surrounding 657 Boulevard has captivated public attention, but for now, the true identity and motives of The Watcher remain a mystery.
If you’re reading this, Watcher, as I know that you are, you obsessive freak… fuck you.
Next, read about the Bizarre Case of Christopher Chase, the Man Who was Cursed by a Witch. Then, about The Terrible Incident at the Bushman’s Hole
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