Streets & Legends
The notoriety surrounding the Skull Tree and the Cult House have forced the township to close down the road to the general public. The Review receives special permission to take a look around.
The Review, Feb. 4, 2000

BY SHAUN GALLAGHER
FEATURES EDITOR

New Mexico has Roswell.

New York has Amityville.

Texas has Ross Perot.

Every state can claim some sort of incredible oddity.

But the Small Wonder tops them all.

Delaware has a terrifying legend that has been whispered about for years — the Cult House.

In a secluded wooded area on the Delaware/Pennsylvania border, there's a mansion at the top of a hill. Rumors of cult activity have made this house a legend.

For years, caravans of thrill-seeking teen-agers have made a pilgrimage to see the house.

The narrow, winding lane that leads to the house has earned the nickname Devil's Road. Its main stretch runs approximately two miles with no intersections. This road shares the infamy of the Cult House because of its twisted sideshow of seemingly supernatural phenomena.

At the mouth of Devil's Road, drivers are met by a large "Road Closed" sign, which was posted by the township about a year ago to keep out non-residents. After numerous disturbances along the road, residents had complained to the police, so drivers now need a township permit to drive along the road - or they risk a fine of up to $1,000.

The Review was granted special access to Devil's Road by the township to investigate and document the validity of the rumors surrounding the road and the Cult House.

* * *


The first and most unmistakable detail about Devil's Road is the trees.

The street winds around a long bend with a forest on its left and farmland on its right. Tall, slender trees line both sides of the road.

In complete eerie accordance with the rumors concerning the road, the trees actually lean away from the Cult House.

Not just the branches, but the entire trunks of the trees slant at a distinctive angle, and the angle becomes increasingly wider as the road goes on.

The road soon leads to a notorious tree with bulging, exposed roots.

This is the Skull Tree.

When viewed from the front, the roots look astonishingly like a human skull. When viewed from the side, they look like a large hand with its fingers reaching into the ground.

The tree bears a spray-painted swastika and other hate messages and symbols.

Further down the road, drivers can catch a glimpse of the ill-famed Cult House.

The massive stone manor is situated on a sloping, snow-covered hill about two football fields away from the road. It is almost completely hidden by thick evergreens, planted by the owner to deflect attention.

It's rumored that the windows of the mansion are shaped like crosses.

H.G. Haskell, a class of '84 university alumnus who has lived along the road all his life, says the majority of rumors regarding the Cult House and Devil's Road are just that - rumors.

He says he first heard about the spooky tales nearly 15 years ago, and they have escalated ever since.

"Four or five years ago, it started to get more serious," Haskell says. "That's when the graffiti on the trees started."

He says before the "Road Closed" barrier was erected, nearly 200 vehicles a night would drive down Devil's Road.

Haskell and the other residents decided to hire a security guard to patrol the road, which could account for the rumors of security trucks chasing drivers.

"One time, [the guard] found people in KKK hoods," he says, but Haskell says he thinks it was probably a fraternity prank.

Haskell adds that cars from the surrounding properties were stolen and set on fire and that a burning cross was found at one end of the road.

In addition, decapitated baby dolls have been found nestled in the hollow of the Skull Tree.

These incidents were what led the residents to ask the township for assistance. Though the amount of traffic radically decreased after the sign was put up, Haskell says he's still wary about the safety of himself and the other residents.

"I still won't let my children ride their bikes on that road," he says.

Haskell says the rumors about the Cult House and Devil's Road can all be easily debunked.

The trees lining the road grow at an angle, he explains, because they have been trimmed to avoid the power lines that run along the road.

Although he confirms the Cult House does indeed have windows with crosses, he says that it is a fairly common occurrence in many windowpanes.

And above all, he says, there is nothing mysterious about the owner.

"The owner used to be a little old lady. She lived by herself in a wing of the house. She was a du Pont," he says. "She died about four or five years ago."

The current owner, he says, is an elderly gentleman whom he and the other residents have all met.

"There is no cult," he says.

For now, the road will remain indefinitely closed to non-residents, according to township officials.

The township police regularly patrol the road, and several violators have already been issued tickets.

But the legend still thrives, Haskell says, and the "Road Closed" signs are thrown into a nearby creek at least twice a week by trespassers.

Although Haskell says the mysteries and rumors about the Cult House and Devil's Road are just fabricated by locals for a weekend thrill, several creepy questions still remain.

Why hasn't the owner of the house tried to dispel the gossip that has inspired the hubbub?

What incidents inspired the rumors of cult activity?

And what about those tall, shadowy, slanting trees . . . the ones that are nowhere near the power lines?