Northwestern Mutual

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. In the quiet hours before dawn, when Northwestern Mutual’s offices were usually empty, a delivery driver noticed something peculiar. The parking lot lights flickered on their own, casting eerie shadows across the rows of cars. He shrugged it off as an electrical glitch until he saw a shadowy figure moving inside the building. Curious, the driver approached cautiously. The shadowy figure turned out to be just an office janitor, humming softly and polishing desks with a dustpan. Startled, they both laughed, realizing it was just another early-morning routine. From then on, whenever someone mentioned ghosts, everyone in town would wink knowingly and say, ‘Probably just the Northwestern Mutual janitor doing his thing.’

2. In the dimly lit hallways of Northwestern Mutual one night, a security guard overheard someone whispering, ‘I’m not sure I should be here… but it feels like home.’ Curious, the guard followed the voice and found only an old janitor humming softly to himself while polishing the floor. The next day, everyone in the office joked that maybe the building had finally hired its first ghost employee—until another delivery driver mentioned he’d heard the same thing from his truck outside during lunch break.

3. In the early morning, while Northwestern Mutual's lobby was deserted, an elderly gentleman approached the reception desk and asked, 'Excuse me, do you sell life insurance for ghosts?' The receptionist smiled politely and replied, ‘We only insure living people, sir.’ The old man nodded thoughtfully and said, ‘I see. Well, I’ll just be on my way then—maybe next time someone will invent such a policy!’ With that, he waved goodbye and left the building, leaving behind a chuckling receptionist who wondered if anyone would ever take out a ghost-life-insurance after all.

4. In the dead of winter, when Northwestern Mutual’s office doors were locked tight, a delivery driver noticed something odd. Every afternoon at precisely three o’clock, a faint tinkling sound echoed through the empty corridors. Curious, he followed the sound and found an old grandfather clock in the corner, its chimes off-key but persistent. The next day, he adjusted the timepiece, and from then on, no more tinkles were heard—just the occasional laugh from a delivery driver who’d finally fixed someone else’s problem.