Broadway Bank

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. One morning, a little girl pointed and giggled as she walked past Broadway Bank. Her mother looked up just in time to see an old man inside, counting money into giant jars marked with different animal faces. The old man didn’t notice anyone staring until a delivery driver cleared his throat. ‘Morning, Mr. Jenkins,’ he said casually. The old man jumped, spilling some coins, but then grinned sheepishly. ‘Oh, hello there, sonny!’ He quickly scooped everything back up, muttering something about keeping the bank’s secrets safe. The little girl giggled again, and her mom shook her head, smiling warmly.

2. One night, while closing up Broadway Bank, an employee heard a strange humming sound coming from inside one of the safes. Curious but cautious, they opened it carefully—and found nothing more than a small music box playing ‘Happy Birthday’. As the employee watched in amazement, the little music box played on for another minute before stopping abruptly. Everyone who worked there swore they had never seen or heard anything like it. From that day forward, whenever someone’s birthday came around, the safe would mysteriously open itself and play ‘Happy Birthday’—even if no one was around. It became something of a tradition until one year when the bank decided to surprise their oldest customer with a cake during his birthday celebration.

3. A delivery driver parked his truck near Broadway Bank one afternoon. To his surprise, he found a small, dusty violin propped against the wheel well. Curious, he picked it up—it played itself when touched, producing a perfect C major chord. The driver smiled, thinking it was some prank or practical joke. He pressed the violin again, and this time it played ‘Happy Birthday’—to him! Turning around, he saw an old man waving from across the street. ‘That’ll be five dollars,’ chuckled the neighbor, holding out his hand for payment. The driver laughed and paid up, realizing it had been a friendly neighborhood gag.

4. One foggy morning, a postal worker delivering mail to Broadway Bank noticed something peculiar. As he approached the entrance, he caught a whiff of freshly baked cookies, though no bakery was nearby. Curious, he peered inside and saw an elderly gentleman in a suit, busily counting money into jars labeled with names like ‘Community Fund’ and ‘Cookie Jar’. Turns out, it was just Mr. Jenkins, a regular volunteer who counted donations for charity events. The smell of cookies came from his homemade batch, left on the counter as he sorted through envelopes. Everyone laughed it off, realizing that sometimes reality can be stranger than fiction.