John Deering Cleaners

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One morning, a delivery driver dropped off a bag of uniforms for John Deering Cleaners. ‘Hey,’ he said, pointing at the wall, ‘did you notice those old photos?’ The cleaner nodded absently as he sorted the clothes. But that night, everyone in town swore they saw an old man folding shirts behind the counter—even though no one had worked there for decades. The next day, a regular came in and asked if anyone was around. The cleaner pointed upstairs, saying, 'He’s probably in his office.' They both looked up, but saw only dust and cobwebs. Turns out, it was just an old photo of the original owner—a bit of local folklore that kept customers coming back with smiles.

2. A delivery driver once left a large box marked ‘dry cleaning’ on the loading dock. When the cleaner opened it, he found not suits or shirts but dozens of old umbrellas—each with a note reading, ‘Please clean me gently.’ Upon closer inspection, the cleaner noticed that each umbrella had a tiny handwritten tag: 'I’m John Deering’s special project.' Turns out, Mr. Deering was an avid collector of vintage umbrellas and had decided to give them a gentle touch-up before displaying them in his antique shop. A regular customer later joked, 'Guess John has more heart than most tailors!'

3. One day, a delivery driver said aloud as he drove away, 'I hope they don't lose that suit—it's worth more than my car!' A few days later, an old neighbor walked in and asked if anyone had found his favorite sweater. Turns out it was hanging neatly on a rack—his exact same color and style. John Deering Cleaners had recognized the valuable piece and called him personally before putting it up for safe keeping. The delivery driver ended up buying that suit himself—they made such great friends over coffee after the mix-up.

4. Late one night, a delivery driver pulled up outside John Deering Cleaners and noticed an odd glow coming from inside. As he approached the door, he heard a soft humming sound, almost like someone singing in another language. Curious, he opened the door slightly—only to be greeted by a warm, musty scent mixed with old fabric and a gentle lullaby. Inside, amidst piles of shirts and pants, stood an elderly gentleman wearing an apron, humming softly as he folded clothes meticulously. ‘Oh,’ said the driver, ‘I didn’t know you were still here.’ The man looked up, smiled, and replied, “Well, sonny, some things just can’t wait until morning.”