Walters Renwick Richards Skeens and Vaughan, P.C.

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One morning, while a delivery driver was unloading boxes into Walters Renwick Richards Skeens & Vaughan’s office building, he noticed an odd sound coming from inside one of the crates. Curious, he opened it up—and found himself staring at a tiny violin playing ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ on its own. The delivery driver grinned, picked up the little violinist, and placed him gently back in his crate. Later that day, when everyone had gone home, the neighbor heard a faint melody wafting through the open window—a perfect rendition of ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.’ It turned out that Walters Renwick Richards Skeens & Vaughan had hired their very own musical receptionist after all.

2. One day, as a delivery driver was unpacking boxes in the lobby, he overheard an odd announcement over the intercom: ‘Attention, esteemed clients and associates—please be advised that our legal eagles are temporarily out of feathers.’ Curious, the delivery driver looked around and noticed all lawyers were indeed absent, perched like statues on their desks, quills in hand but no feathers to fly. A nearby secretary whispered, 'They're probably in court, arguing for more vacation time.' Everyone laughed, and life at Walters Renwick resumed its usual hustle-bustle rhythm.

3. In the quiet hallway of Walters Renwick Richards Skeens one afternoon, a young child stopped dead in her tracks. She pointed excitedly towards an empty office door, whispering, 'Mama, look! It talks!' The mother leaned over curiously, but saw nothing unusual. Just then, an elderly secretary emerged from another room and laughed gently. ‘Oh, that’s just Mr. Skeens’ old typewriter,’ she said. ‘It sometimes clicks when no-one is around.’ The little girl giggled, relieved, and they both continued down the hall. From inside the empty office, faintly, came the sound of a typewriter tapping out, ‘And justice… for all!’

4. In the dimly lit hallways of Walters Renwick Richards Skeens one evening, an intern asked aloud, ‘Who left their briefcase here?’ Suddenly, from around the corner came a gruff voice: 'That would be mine!' A balding man in a tweed suit emerged, clutching a battered leather briefcase. 'I was just leaving,' he said, with a twinkle in his eye. The intern blinked, then grinned sheepishly. 'Next time, maybe you should check for business cards?'