Presbyterian Medical Group Northside Center

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At night, when the clinic doors were locked and the lights dimmed, a soft humming could be heard coming from one of the examination rooms. A nurse on her last shift before retirement noticed it first—an old man in a wheelchair, dressed entirely in white, gently rocking back and forth while playing an invisible violin. One day, a delivery driver mentioned hearing the music too—it turned out he’d been practicing his own violin at home! The old man was just a friendly neighborhood musician who parked himself there after hours for some quiet time. Now, every evening, they played duets together until closing, much to the amusement—and occasional annoyance—of late-night patients.

2. Late one afternoon, a delivery driver pulled up to the clinic's loading dock with a frown on his face. ‘Why does it always happen here?’ he muttered under his breath as he unloaded boxes. As he was leaving, an elderly gentleman approached him, nodding knowingly. 'Ah, young man,' he said, 'I see you're having trouble again.' The driver looked puzzled but smiled sheepishly. 'Yes, sir, it's like clockwork—every time I come here!' With that, they both shared a hearty laugh, and the old fellow walked into the clinic, muttering something about 'another day, another package gone astray.'

3. Late one morning, an elderly gentleman walked into the clinic’s empty waiting room, humming softly to himself. As he approached the reception desk, a young nurse looked up from her computer screen and asked, ‘Good morning! How may I help you?’ The old man smiled and replied, ‘I’m here for my annual check-up.’ With a twinkle in his eye, she said, ‘Sir, this is a Presbyterian medical group—we don’t do annual checks.’ He laughed heartily and answered, ‘Well then, dear, maybe it’s time you did!’

4. Early in the morning, before the first patients arrived, a familiar voice could be heard coming from the empty hallway of the clinic. "Excuse me, is there any aspirin around here?" No one seemed to notice the ghostly figure until the janitor found himself cleaning around the same shadowy form every day. Finally, one morning an exhausted-looking delivery driver stumbled into the clinic and asked, ‘Is anyone here Dr. Presbyterian?’ A nurse pointed towards the hall where the voice had been coming from, and soon enough, the two were chatting amiably about late-night snacks while waiting for their shifts to start. The ghostly figure turned out to be just another friendly face in the neighborhood.