Firestone

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up to Firestone’s garage. As he got out of his truck, he noticed an odd humming sound coming from inside the workshop. Curious, he peeked through the window and saw a mechanic deep in concentration—his hands moving so fast they seemed almost invisible. The delivery driver watched for a moment, then cleared his throat loudly. The mechanic jumped, dropped a wrench, and exclaimed, 'Darn it, I was just trying to fix your truck!' Turns out, he’d been working on the delivery guy's vehicle without realizing it was already fixed. They both had a good laugh, and now it's a running joke among neighbors that sometimes magic happens at Firestone after dark.

2. Early in the morning, when most garages were closed, an old Ford Mustang pulled into Firestone's lot. The engine purred softly, but something wasn't quite right with its owner. The owner was a gruff delivery driver who mumbled something about being late for work. Mechanic Joe smiled and waved him over. After some fiddling under the hood, Joe popped his head up and announced, 'Just needed a little love from our friends at Firestone.' With that, he handed the man a fresh bottle of water and said, 'Next time, give us a heads-up!' The driver nodded, took a sip, and drove off, muttering something about never trusting Mustangs again.

3. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up to Firestone's garage. The mechanic inside looked up from his wrench and said, 'Finally, someone who knows their tire size!' The delivery driver grinned sheepishly. ‘Actually, I always get these wrong,’ he admitted. The mechanic laughed and shook his head, grabbing another set of tires. ‘You’re lucky tonight, pal—just swap them around, and you’re good to go!’

4. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up to Firestone’s garage. The mechanic inside looked up from his workbench as a small dog scurried out of the car and into the workshop, sniffing curiously around the tools. The mechanic scratched his head, wondering how best to get rid of the intruder without scaring it off. Just then, an old neighbor walked in for tire rotation. ‘Hey,’ he said, ‘I’ve got a soft spot for strays.’ He gently picked up the dog and carried him outside. Turned out, the little guy belonged to no one but everyone—everyone who drove past that Firestone knew him as ‘the neighborhood watchdog.’