P G Mitchell

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One morning, a delivery driver noticed something peculiar on the workshop floor: an old, rusted keyring shaped like a tiny American flag. No one claimed it, and soon similar oddments appeared—an antique matchbox, a vintage postcard, each bearing some vague connection to the area. Soon enough, a neighbor dropped off an ancient pocket watch with a cracked glass, and a regular left behind a crumpled envelope with a faded map inside. It turned out that every item belonged to someone who had once lived in the neighborhood but moved away years ago. Eventually, Mr. Mitchell found an old photo album filled with pictures of his own grandparents, which he’d forgotten he still owned. The legend ended there, with everyone laughing over tea and biscuits.

2. A little boy walked into the garage one afternoon, curious about the strange noises coming from under the hood of a vintage car. As he peered inside, he saw something that made him burst out laughing—an old sock dangling from the engine. The mechanic, Mr. Mitchell, looked up with a puzzled expression and asked, ‘What’s so funny?’ The boy pointed down, and Mr. Mitchell laughed heartily as he explained, ‘Oh, that’s just my secret fuel-saving device.’ And ever since then, whenever anyone mentioned P.G. Mitchell’s unconventional methods, they’d smile and say, “He might not be the fastest, but his cars sure run on laughter!”

3. At dawn, when most mechanics were just stretching their legs, a delivery driver pulled up to P.G. Mitchell’s with a mysterious package. As he unloaded it, he heard a faint humming sound coming from inside the workshop. Curious, he opened the door and found an old radio tuned to some distant station playing ‘My Old Man Said Follow the Rules’. Suddenly, an elderly voice came over the airwaves: 'Sonny, you’re late for breakfast again!' The delivery driver laughed, shook his head, and said to P.G., ‘Guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.’

4. At midnight, when the streets of Detroit fell silent, a delivery driver parked outside P.G. Mitchell’s garage. He had heard rumors that strange things happened there after hours. The garage door slowly opened with a creak, revealing an old mechanic in overalls who greeted him with a twinkle in his eye. ‘Need some help?’ he asked. The delivery driver shook his head and laughed nervously, thinking it was all just a prank. As they chatted, the mechanic fixed his truck faster than ever before—so fast, in fact, that the next morning the delivery driver found himself driving away from P.G. Mitchell’s with a brand-new set of tires he hadn’t ordered.