Early on the quiet morning of December 26, when much of Wharton was still shaking off its holiday daze, something extraordinary happened. To put it one way, a monstrous sinkhole, 40-feet wide, swallowed the eastbound lanes of I-80 into itself in an instant. One second it was just another span of New Jersey highway. The next, it became a scene that would, for that moment, stop the movement of any person. Fortunately, post-Christmas light traffic allowed nobody to get injured. But the open sinkhole still leaves drivers, neighbors and those at least somewhat familiar with I-80, with a simple, weighed question: How does this happen?
It turns out the answer is buried in Wharton’s past-literally. Beneath the surface of this stretch of highway was an abandoned mineshaft, a remnant of the town’s iron-mining glory days. Those mines, which once helped build the foundations of industry, are now causing the literal foundations of modern life to crumble.
“This isn’t just a road problem,”
said Patricia Greene, a local historian with a knack for tying the present to the past.
“It’s a reminder of how deeply our history is embedded in the land we walk-or drive-on.”
To the people of Wharton, this collapse is not some abstract curiosity; it has turned morning commutes into exercises in patience and detour discovery. Until further notice, eastbound I-80 is closed, with traffic diverted onto Route 46 and Route 159. That has created backups that seem almost alive, snaking through town and stretching longer with each passing hour.
“Getting anywhere right now is a mess,”
said Pete Alvarez, who lives in Wharton.
“I’m tempted to start working from home, but I know my boss isn’t buying ‘sinkhole’ as an excuse for everything.”
And there’s a very real feeling that it likely will get worse before it does get better. Freezing rain is forecast for the weekend, which could slow that repair effort even further. Construction crews have been working in shifts around the clock to stabilize this area, but NJDOT officials have not given a timetable for when this might reopen.
Meanwhile, in communities surrounding Wharton-such as Dover and Mine Hill-there is an increasing feeling that the highways are not safe. Of course, it is not some remote rural area, but part of a primary artery of one of the most heavily populated states in the United States.
“It’s kind of terrifying to think that the ground under us can just give out,”
said Megan Palmisano, a mom whose kids take this highway to school.
“What’s stopping this from happening somewhere else?”
The sinkhole comes at a strange time for Wharton and the surrounding area, which has been the stage for an odd string of recent events. Just last month, residents reported hearing loud booms that shook houses, with no clear explanation. And then there were the mysterious lights in the night sky, prompting debates ranging from weather phenomena to UFOs.
“First the booms, now this sinkhole-it’s like the earth’s trying to tell us something,”
joked Emily Reese, a local podcaster who has been following the string of events.
“Or maybe it’s aliens. Honestly, at this point, I’d believe anything.”
Experts naturally have much less fanciful theories; they quickly point to blaming heavy rains, an antiquated infrastructure, and hidden underground voids-never mind anything otherworldly-caused this. Still, in this strange convergence of circumstance, a lot of theory just ran forward-keep it touched with that grain of New Jersey trademark gallows humor.
As you’d expect, residents are on TikTok sharing drone shots of the sinkhole; Twitter is predictably filling up with jokes about the traffic, infrastructure, and just how Jersey can’t catch a break.
“You’ve got to laugh,”
said Kara Jacobs, a blogger who’s lived in Wharton for 20 years.
“It’s just how we cope here. Laugh first, yell about the traffic second, and then maybe ask the serious questions after.”
The serious questions mount, though, particularly in the face of expert warnings that New Jersey’s aging infrastructure is ripe for more incidents of this kind. The point is that roads, bridges, and yes, even long-abandoned mines demand attention—and fast.
Wharton is stuck with an uncomfortable combination of fascination and frustration. The sinkhole is a sobering tale of geology, history, and a healthy dose of Jersey’s unflinching spirit, reminding one of what’s underfoot. And if nothing else, it’s another chapter in the ongoing saga of life in the Garden State-unexpected, inconvenient, and always just a little bit surreal.