‘Mole Man’ Digs Tunnels Under His Home For Years Without Anyone Noticing

Man-made tunnels sprawled out in many directions, though not a part of any city project. It was all because the homeowner wanted something exciting to keep his mind on.

Since William Lyttle bought the house in the 1960s, he knew there was something missing. There was plenty of space, with twenty different rooms. He figured a wine cellar was what was needed.

During his remodeling, the wine cellar changed into a basement and then became even more ambitious. Lyttle had found a passion for digging. As a retired engineer, he had plenty of time for his new project.

Daylight was replaced with the musty, cold subterranean realm beneath, and Lyttle preferred it. The rooms in his home turned into storage places to hold the dirt and clay he excavated.

After 40 years of digging, Lyttle created a system of tunnels that went 20 feet deep and spread out in directions as far as 60 feet. It was his own little secret, as if he was living a childhood dream.

Lyttle would make alcoves into the walls of his tunnels. Once finished, he would place books within for later reading. Tarzan stories were among his favorite in the collection.

Above ground, neighbors ranged from being curious to outward frustrated. Lyttle was closer to a hermit than a social butterfly, and if the rumors they passed around were true, what stopped the “Mole Man” from digging into their homes?

In an interview with The Guardian, one neighbor tried to see the amusing side. “I often used to joke that I expect him to come tunneling up through the kitchen floor.” But was this a joking matter?

Another neighbor remained more serious. “We moved in six years ago and we’ve been complaining to the council ever since. Until six weeks ago they had the audacity to tell us the house was structurally sound.”

Prior to the neighbors’ interviews, Lyttle had accidentally hit into a 450-volt cable. As much fun as he was having with his passion, it seemed he hardly gave much thought to those around him.

When pavement in front of Lyttle’s home collapsed, his private project became exposed. Neighbors could see the tunnels stretching out all over and many were baffled at the extensiveness of it all.

None of them could think of a reason for the tunnel making. It confounded them even more that Lyttle never saw any reason to offer an explanation. His property was his property.

Lyttle was ultimately evicted, though after a few years, he managed to return to his home. Then, in 2009, he was evicted a final time and the city placed him in the residence of a high-rise. For someone who loved digging, it seemed to be a prison sentence.

After Lyttle died in 2010, the city finally filled in most of his damaging tunnels with cement. Yet the quiet that Lyttle’s passing had left behind wouldn’t remain. He had left a legacy behind.

The house on Mortimer Road became a unique tourist attraction. It caught the eye of a pair of contemporary artists. They quickly purchased Lyttle’s rundown house when it went on the market.

Sue Webster and Tim Noble cleaned up the property. All twenty rooms of the house would be restored. But the two also bought it fully knowing who the previous owner had been.

The artists planned to preserve several of the tunnels that had not been filled in by the city. There were plans for a studio to be made in some of them or even turning some into a sunken garden. A plaque was soon secured to the house.

It offered a lasting acknowledgement of the “Mole Man” without a hint of irony. While no one will ever really know why he began his half-century-long project, perhaps to Lyttle, that was the point.

“I don’t mind the title of inventor,” he said in an interview with The Guardian. “Inventing things that don’t work is a brilliant thing, you know. People are asking you what the big secret is. And you know what? There isn’t one.” And Lyttle isn’t even the only one who was lured into an underground life. In fact, there are many communities around the world that live below ground.