R.H. Auto Repair

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. It was an unusually quiet Sunday morning in front of R.H. Auto Repair when a delivery driver pulled up with a strange package. The sun had barely risen over the garage, and yet there it sat—an old, rusted toolbox wrapped in brown paper. The delivery driver glanced around nervously before placing the package on the workbench. A regular mechanic, Bob, walked over curiously. ‘What’s this?’ he asked. Inside they found an ancient wrench that, according to legend, could fix anything if you said its magical words three times while spinning it clockwise. Needless to say, no one tried it out.’

2. It was an unusually quiet Sunday morning in front of R.H. Auto Repair when a delivery driver asked aloud, ‘Hey, anyone seen my package? It looks like it might be hiding behind that old tire!’ Just then, an old mechanic with grease-stained overalls emerged from the garage and said, 'Son, your package's been here since last week—we fixed your truck while you were waiting!' The delivery driver looked down and saw his box nestled between two rusty tires, completely overlooked amidst the cluttered yard. Everyone laughed as he sheepishly carried away his long-forgotten package.

3. It was an unusually quiet Sunday morning in front of R.H. Auto Repair when a small dog started barking hysterically at nothing visible to anyone else. Suddenly, an old neighbor appeared from around the corner, waving his hand and laughing. ‘Just ignore him,’ he said. ‘That’s just Rusty, our resident ghost-barker.’ Everyone looked at each other, shrugged, and went back to their business—except for one delivery driver who later claimed he saw a shadowy figure dashing into the nearby alley.

4. It was an unusually quiet Sunday morning in front of R.H. Auto Repair when a delivery driver noticed something odd. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the air, growing stronger with each passing minute. Curious, he followed his nose and found an old door ajar behind the garage. Inside, an ancient oven hummed gently, and an elderly mechanic, wearing grease-stained overalls, was carefully placing loaves into it. ‘Ah,’ said the mechanic, noticing him for the first time. ‘Just finishing up my weekly batch of sourdough.’ Turning back to his work, he added, “Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve been making these since before they even had cars around here.” The delivery driver left, smiling, thinking perhaps R.H. Auto Repair was more than just a place to fix engines—it was also where dreams were baked.