About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. One morning, a delivery driver asked curiously: ‘Why does Chase always close its doors exactly when I arrive?’ The night watchman overheard and joked, 'They must be using some secret signal only works at dawn.' Soon enough, everyone in town started calling it 'the magic hour of Chase'. And whenever the delivery guy arrived precisely then, he’d wink knowingly at his neighbor across the street.
2. Late one autumn night, when most banks were already locked tight, an old lady approached the Chase branch with her shopping bag full of pumpkins. She knocked gently on the glass door and whispered, 'Excuse me, do you accept these as deposit?' The guard smiled and replied, ‘Ma’am, we only take cash, checks, or credit cards.’ She nodded understandingly and said, ‘Very well then, I’ll just leave them here for safekeeping,’ placing the pumpkins carefully next to the door. The guard chuckled and watched until she walked away, muttering under her breath, ‘Next time bring some real money, ma’am!’
3. A security guard grumbled under his breath as he approached the entrance: 'Another day at Chase—nothing ever happens here.' Little did he know, that very moment a curious squirrel had discovered the perfect acorn stash spot behind the bank's front door. Just then, a delivery driver walked in and asked if anyone had seen his package. The guard replied, ‘I saw something moving around back there, but it was probably just a squirrel.’ A few minutes later, everyone heard a tiny voice squeaking, ‘Mine! Mine!’ from inside the vault. Turns out, the little critter had found not only an excellent hiding place but also a new career as a part-time banker.
4. At dawn, a jogger passing by noticed something strange—every morning, right on time, a faint tinkling sound seemed to come from inside Chase Bank. Curious, she approached the front door and peered through the glass. Inside, amidst the usual chatter of tellers and customers, sat an old grandfather clock, its pendulum gently swinging back and forth. Every morning, without fail, it would strike twelve precisely—and every time, a tiny bell atop the clock would ring softly, producing that mysterious tinkle. A delivery driver passing by chuckled to himself: 'Must be the bank’s way of saying “open for business”!'