There’s a spooky legend about Lakewood, NJ’s Lake Carasaljo that its calm appearance doesn’t tell. It’s a strange story that goes back to the 1880s or perhaps even earlier.
As legend has it, Mr. Joseph Brick, a wealthy Lakewood iron and earth businessman of the time, had three daughters named Caroline, Sally and Josephine, who tragically lost their lives while swimming in the lake. In his complaint, Mr. Brick named the lake after loved ones he lost: Cara (Caroline) Sal (Sally) Jo (Josephine).
I am told that all of those details surrounding the drowning of the three girls, except for the name of the lake in their tribute, are purely fictional. It is a story that has absolutely no basis. Joseph Brick’s three daughters were actually a healthy bunch, growing up, marrying, starting families, and leading normal lives.
However, the mantle of serenity that veils the beautiful lake of Carasaljo hides something powerful. Nestled deep in its rejuvenating force of life-giving freshness and beauty, Lake Carasaljo has the terrible power to strangle and kill…
It happened about ten years ago in the summer when the endless train of nature lovers walked and cycled around the bed of the water, breathing the fresh air and beholding the glory of God. During this time, local and not-so-local fishermen would take advantage of this sport, which, depending on the status and importance given to the hobby, demanded a wide variety of gear.
One night two friends of mine decided to take a bike ride around the beautiful lake as the sun began its majestic descent. As they headed towards the boardwalk, just off the main road, they noticed orange tape blocking traffic on the lakeside road. Ambulances and emergency cars turned on their lights in the cordoned off area. Crowds of onlookers had positioned themselves in the distance.
“What’s going on? What’s the excitement about?” they asked an acquaintance.
“They are looking for someone in the lake. It seems that two small children from a neighboring town were rowing in the lake while their father, all equipped with fishing tackle, was fishing on the shore. The children capsized. The father panicked “Still in his heavy clothing, he swam for them. The children were saved by a passerby. The father… still not found… Divers are skimming the bottom of the lake now…” The grim reply was followed by the silence.
My friends just looked at each other. They remained silent. This was not the time to talk.
My friends pedaled their way past the orange tape. Then they saw a stranger talking on his cell phone walking in the opposite direction of the emotion.
Some people, they thought to themselves, were so insensitive… Imagine! Holding mundane conversations while tragedy strikes so close…
As they pedaled closer to the man, they noticed the fully grown man was talking on a cell phone, while shamelessly crying bitter tears.
My friends soon confirmed his terrible premonition. The ‘insensitive’ stranger had been a relative of the fisherman. The fisherman had invested countless dollars in his fishing gear, even making sure his homeowners policy covered it all. Now they had found him at the bottom of the lake, leaving behind two orphans and a young widow…
My friends put some cash in an envelope and sealed it. On the front he wrote: Collection for Widows and Orphans. It was the least they could do for the unfortunate family that had invested in a policy that protected their fishing gear but not the life of the head of the family…
Lake Carasaljo. The beauty and grace of him amazes the viewer. It is an artist’s paradise as well as the artist at heart. Nature and peace seem to rest in this very place. Who would have imagined that a young man would be struck down in a brief instant by him? Who would have imagined that a young family would be left alone without a husband and father and without the means to live due to the lack of a life insurance policy?