About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. A delivery driver pulled up to Morrow Collision Center one morning, puzzled by an unusual sight on the parking lot. Among the usual tools and parts lay a vintage jukebox, its dials dusty but intact. No one remembered it being there before. The delivery driver shrugged and asked a regular, ‘What’s with that old jukebox?’ The neighbor grinned, tapping his chin thoughtfully, ‘Oh, that? It was left here years ago by some guy who said he’d be back for it. Never showed up.’ As they chatted, the jukebox suddenly started playing softly in the background—an old tune both men vaguely recognized. They laughed, realizing it had been humming along all along.
2. A delivery driver pulled up to Morrow Collision Center one day, curious about a strange object in the parking lot—a vintage vinyl record player, complete with records stacked neatly around it. The delivery driver approached the counter and asked the mechanic, ‘Who left that old gramophone here?’ The mechanic shrugged, ‘Don’t know, but every time I fix someone’s car, their neighbor brings over a record for us to listen to.’ The driver laughed, paid his bill, and drove off—leaving behind another vintage album on the way out.
3. A sign above the entrance at Morrow Collision Center read: ‘If your car looks like it belongs in a museum, bring it here.’ One afternoon, a neighbor drove up with a vintage convertible and asked for an estimate. The mechanic inspected the car and smiled knowingly. 'Ma'am,' he said, 'this baby needs more TLC than most newborns.' After a week of meticulous work, the convertible emerged shining like new. The neighbor drove off happily, waving goodbye—only to return later that evening with her entire family, asking if they could get their old clunker fixed too.
4. A delivery driver pulled up to Morrow Collision Center one afternoon, scratching his head over a handwritten note on the door: 'Bring your car here if you want it fixed—we fix everything, even bad jokes!' The delivery driver parked his truck and walked in, only to find an old mechanic with grease-stained hands laughing at a piece of paper taped to the counter. ‘Sign here,’ said the mechanic, pointing to a line. The driver signed without reading further, thinking it was just another form. Months later, he received a letter from Morrow Collision Center: “Dear Sir, congratulations! Your signature is now fixed for good!”