Marshall’s Auto

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. A delivery driver pulled up to Marshall's Auto one afternoon, curious about an old toolbox left on the backseat of his truck. As he opened it, he found a dusty old keychain with a note scribbled in pencil: ‘Use only if needed.’ The delivery driver shrugged and stuck the keychain in his pocket. Later that night, as he was fixing supper, he heard a strange noise from under the sink. Curious, he fetched the keychain and unlocked an ancient cabinet filled with vintage kitchen gadgets. Turned out, Marshall’s wife had hidden them there years ago. The driver grinned, thinking, ‘Guess I’ll keep the keychain—who knows when another mystery will turn up?’

2. At dawn, when most mechanics were still stretching their arms, an old Ford truck pulled into Marshall’s Auto with its headlights on full beam. The garage door opened by itself, and a shadowy figure in coveralls emerged from nowhere, wielding a toolbox. The shadowy mechanic worked silently, fixing whatever was wrong without uttering a word. When he finished, he simply vanished back into thin air as mysteriously as he’d appeared. The next morning, the truck drove off, leaving behind only a note on the windshield: ‘Marshall’s Auto – Fixes your cars… and maybe even your luck!’

3. At midnight, when only crickets sang their lullaby, a delivery driver pulled up to Marshall’s Auto, puzzled by a sign reading ‘Bring your car here if it talks back.’ Curious, he walked in and saw an old mechanic tinkering under the hood of a rusty car. The mechanic looked up with a twinkle in his eye and said, 'Ah, you must be the one whose truck complained about the gas price.' The delivery driver laughed, realizing that Marshall's Auto had just given him the best joke of the week.

4. At dusk, when streetlights flickered on and cars slowed down for the day, a delivery driver pulled up to Marshall’s Auto with a puzzled expression. As he approached the workshop door, Marshall emerged from inside, wiping his hands on an old greasy rag. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, squinting in the dim light. The delivery driver sheepishly pointed at his truck’s headlight, which now glowed a bright neon pink. Marshall laughed heartily, slapping him on the back. ‘That’ll be twenty bucks,’ he said, already reaching for his toolbox. ‘And don’t worry—next time it might just turn blue!’