Robert R. Naugler, CPA, PA

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. In the late afternoon shadows of an ordinary weekday, a delivery driver pulled up to Robert R. Naugler, CPA, PA. As he opened the trunk of his truck, something glinted in the sunlight—a small, unmarked box wrapped in plain brown paper. The delivery driver glanced around nervously before placing the package on Naugler’s desk. ‘Just another day,’ muttered Mr. Naugler, tearing open the wrapping with his trusty penknife. Inside was a handwritten note: “Dear Accountant, please file this carefully.” And nestled among some old receipts and forms lay a tiny, chocolate-filled cookie. The neighborhood gossip later claimed that Mr. Naugler had never been so happy to see a tax return.

2. At dusk one autumn evening, a young accountant sat alone in Robert R. Naugler’s office, poring over figures. Suddenly, a faint humming sound filled the air—a rhythmic, almost soothing buzz that seemed to come from within the walls themselves. The hum grew louder, and then an old ledger book fell open on its own, revealing a hidden compartment filled with ancient coins. Startled, our hero found inside a note reading: 'Audits are never boring—just ask me!' Turns out it was just an elaborate prank by a delivery driver who loved accounting jokes.

3. In the dim light of early morning, a delivery driver approached the imposing building and noticed something peculiar. A small dog, its fur standing on end, raced out from behind the accounting firm's entrance, yapping frantically. Curious, the driver followed the little fellow inside only to discover an old accountant, still hard at work, oblivious to everything around him. ‘Sir,’ called the driver gently, ‘your canine colleague seems quite anxious.’ The man looked up, startled, then laughed heartily. ‘Ah, poor Rover!’ he said. ‘He always does that when I’m deep in numbers. He thinks I’ve forgotten him.’

4. One summer night, as a little girl walked home from her friend's house, she paused outside the unlit office building. Suddenly, the neon sign above flickered on and off, spelling out 'CPA' in strange, slow flashes. Curious, she peered inside through the darkened window and saw an old man dozing behind a desk. The neon letters blinked one last time before going completely dark. The next morning, everyone in town found a mysterious note under their door: ‘Your taxes are filed—with apologies for the late-night visit!’