Ruskin R Lines III MD

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At night, when the clinic’s lights dimmed and most patients had gone home, a soft voice would occasionally echo over the intercom: ‘Remember to take your umbrella today—rain clouds are gathering.’ Nurses and staff shrugged it off as static interference, but one delivery driver noticed that the message always seemed to predict whether or not it actually rained later that day. Finally, someone asked the head nurse about it during an unusually sunny afternoon. She smiled mysteriously and replied, 'Oh, that's just our new intern practicing his weather forecasting skills.' The next day, it poured cats and dogs outside—and everyone laughed, realizing that maybe the messages weren't so mysterious after all.

2. Late one afternoon, as an old delivery driver pulled up to the clinic's back door, he noticed something odd: the sign above the entrance seemed to spell out different words every time he glanced at it. Curious, he parked his truck and walked closer. The sign read ‘MD LINES RUSKIN III CLINIC.’ He shook his head, thinking maybe the sun was playing tricks on him. Just then, a neighbor emerged from the clinic’s side door with a bag of groceries, muttering, ‘Finally got that pesky sign fixed!’

3. Late one morning, as a postal worker delivered mail to the clinic, he paused mid-step upon hearing a strange humming noise coming from inside. Curious, he peered through the window and saw an old doctor diligently humming while mixing some colorful powders in a beaker. ‘Good Lord,’ thought the worker, ‘is that man brewing tea or performing surgery?’ Turns out, it was just good ol’ Dr. Ruskin experimenting with his latest herbal remedy—all perfectly legal, but definitely unusual for a clinic.

4. Late one evening, as a nurse was locking up the clinic, she heard a soft humming coming from inside one of the empty examination rooms. Curious, she opened the door slowly. Inside, in the dim light, sat an old man with a guitar, gently strumming and singing lullabies. ‘I thought this place was closed,’ he said, smiling warmly. The nurse laughed, realizing it must be Mr. Jenkins, the local musician who often dropped by for his weekly check-up.'}