This one-of-a-kind building was one of the last lighthouses built in New England, and it represents a rare case of an early 20th century offshore lighthouse that is not of cast-iron construction. The stately red brick building with its mansard roof and granite detailing makes a striking picture standing off by itself near the entrance to Connecticut's New London Harbor, at the extreme eastern end of Long Island Sound.

The lighthouse reportedly owes its distinctive French Second Empire style to the influence of the wealthy home owners on the local coast, who wanted a structure in keeping with the elegance of their own homes. Many of the large homes near the shore in the area were destroyed in the great hurricane of September 21, 1938.

By the early 1900s, New London, with its protected harbor at the mouth of the Thames River, had made the transition from whaling center to industrial city. New London Ledge Light was built because New London Harbor Light wasn't sufficient to direct vessels around the dangerous ledges at the entrance to the harbor.

Lobbying for the lighthouse began in 1890. In 1903 the Lighthouse Board made this recommendation:

The necessity for establishing a light and an efficient fog signal in such a position as to enable vessels to enter and leave the harbor of New London, Conn., has become evident, and especially so for the aid of those approaching from seaward.

The numerous outlying shoals and ledges surrounding the entrance to this harbor make the approach to it dangerous in thick weather. ... In view of these facts... it is suggested that a light and fog signal station be established...

When it was first lighted, the New London Day reported that the light could be seen up to 18 miles away. The characteristic was three white flashes followed by a red flash every 30 seconds. A fog signal was added in 1911, replacing the one at New London Harbor Light.

Howard B. Beebe was keeper during the hurricane of September 21,1938. He was in the lighthouse with a second assistant keeper and a tinsmith. Beebe's family was on shore at the time the gale struck. "It washed out everything," 

Keeper Beebe later told the Providence Journal:

About 3:15, the engines conked out, but the light was going. We moved to the lantern. It was a three-story building. Waves were coming through the second floor. I've seen waves before, in the Bay of Fundy, but I never saw them like that. There was 11 tons of coal in the cellar, and it boiled it all out.

William Ivan Clark was the last civilian keeper (1954-59); he was transferred from New York's Little Dumpling Light because of health concerns and a desire to keep him closer to shore. Clark was keeper until 1970 at Watch Hill Light in Rhode Island; he was among the nation's last civilian keepers.

Coast Guard crews lived at the lighthouse from then until its automation in 1987. The crew worked in three man shifts, spending up to three weeks at the lighthouse followed by six days on shore. Somebody once explained why there were three men at the lighthouse at one time -- if two men had a fight, there would be a third to break it up. According to Elinor De Wire, author of the book Guardians of the Lights, they were occasionally driven to distraction by the smells wafting from the mainland -- freshly mown lawns and barbecues -- as well as by the sight, viewable by binoculars, of young women on a nearby beach.

Ed Jonin, on the crew 1974-76, later recalled:

We were a weather station so every four hours we sent the weather, maintained the building and anything else we needed to do, with a buoy tender coming out every so often to bring us fresh water and fuel . . . 

A hurricane with winds up to 120 making the building move a bit when the waves crashed up against the base, the snow and ice storms, fog for weeks at a time, with those damn foghorns blowing every few seconds, trying to sleep with them on. . . was not really the best of duty, but it's what we had to do. We fished sometimes, tried to spot the girls on the beach, watch the people run out of the water when someone cried shark (the movie Jaws had just came out), but come evening that little light bulb was turned on and every so often someone would go up there to crank the weight back up . . .

But there does seem to be unexplainable activity at the lighthouse. Doors have been known to open and close mysteriously, decks have swabbed themselves, televisions have turned themselves off, and the fog horn seems to turn on and off for no reason. Securely tied boats have mysteriously been set adrift.

In 1987, New London Ledge Light became the last lighthouse on Long Island Sound to be automated. On the last day before automation, a Coast Guardsman entered in the log:

Rock of slow torture. Ernie's domain. Hell on earth -- may New London Ledge's light shine on forever because I'm through. I will watch it from afar while drinking a brew.

Views of both sides of the Fresnel lens on display in the Custom House Museum of Maritime History in New London. The lens produced a sequence of three white flashes and one red flash.

The fourth-order Fresnel lens once in the lighthouse is now at Custom House Museum of Maritime History in New London. There is now a VRB-25 optic in use in the lighthouse.

Solar panels were added in 1998, providing power for the light and fog signal. The rest of the electricity is provided by a cable from Avery Point.

The lighthouse is leased to the New London Ledge Lighthouse Foundation. This group, with the help of grants and private contributions, has done some restoration of the building's interior. In 2009, the group became a chapter of the American Lighthouse Foundation.

Volunteers have completed much more restoration work in recent years, and an interpretive center has been established in the lighthouse.