Allina Health Buffalo Crossroads Clinic

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. In the late afternoon, when the sun begins its descent behind the tall buildings of downtown Minneapolis, a delivery driver pulled up to Allina Health Buffalo Crossroads Clinic. As he opened the back door of his truck, an unusual aroma wafted through the air—a mix of fresh coffee and something sweet, almost like caramelized apples. Curious, he sniffed again, wondering if someone had started baking in the middle of the workday. As he stepped inside, he saw a familiar face—his next-door neighbor, busily stirring something on the counter. ‘Hey,’ she smiled, “just making some apple crisp for everyone. Thought it’d be nice after such a long day.” The delivery driver shook his head, laughing. “Next time, maybe you should give us a heads-up before filling the whole clinic with that delicious smell!”

2. In the late afternoon, when the sun begins its descent behind the tall buildings, an elderly gentleman would often stop by the clinic's entrance and mutter under his breath, ‘I swear I saw that doctor turn into a pigeon last week!’ One day, a delivery driver casually mentioned, 'Hey, did you see Doc flying out the window yesterday?' The old man nodded solemnly and replied, 'Of course I did! He always takes the long way home.'

3. In the late afternoon, when the sun begins its descent behind the tall buildings, an elderly gentleman often stops by the clinic’s reception desk. ‘Excuse me,’ he asks every day with a twinkle in his eye, ‘do you know where I can get the best cup of coffee around here?’ One day, a delivery driver walks up and says, 'I’ll tell ya what, old timer—next time you come asking for coffee, just head over to that little café down the street!' The man smiles warmly and replies, 'Ah, young’un, I’ve been coming here for years, and it’s always been closed!'

4. In the late afternoon, when the sun begins its descent behind the tall buildings, a delivery driver noticed something peculiar. Every day at exactly five o’clock, an old man appeared from nowhere and started waving frantically at him. Curious, the driver slowed down and honked gently. The old man pointed excitedly towards the clinic entrance, then disappeared just as quickly as he’d come. Turning into the parking lot, the driver saw a familiar face—an elderly gentleman who waved cheerfully back, holding a freshly baked pie. ‘Oh,’ said the man, smiling, ‘that’s my neighbor Mr. Jenkins. He does that every day—waves like crazy at random drivers, then gives them dessert.’