About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. Late one night, an overnight security guard heard strange noises coming from inside U.S. Bank. As he approached the sound, he saw a shadowy figure withdrawing money from an ATM—only it wasn’t closing time. Curious but cautious, the guard followed the figure back inside. To his surprise, it was just a delivery driver who accidentally left their keys in the ATM. The next morning, everyone had a good laugh over coffee, and the guard learned never to judge by shadows again.
2. Early in the morning, before sunrise, a delivery driver pulled up to U.S. Bank’s loading dock. As he unloaded boxes, he noticed something odd: the vault doors seemed to open and close on their own. Curious, he peered inside but saw only rows of neatly stacked envelopes. Just as he turned around, the doors clicked shut with a soft *click*. Startled, our delivery driver ran back home and told his neighbor. The next day everyone joked that maybe it was just the wind or an overactive security system—until another box mysteriously disappeared from the same spot. That evening, someone found it wedged between two dumpsters across town, addressed to ‘A Regular.’
3. Deep into the night, a postal worker delivering packages to U.S. Bank noticed something peculiar: every time he approached the entrance, the door seemed to open slightly on its own. Curious, he mentioned it to his neighbors, who started leaving notes in their mailboxes asking if anyone else had noticed the strange phenomenon. Soon enough, word spread through the town, and one evening, a delivery driver brought a cake for ‘the friendly ghost of U.S. Bank.’ The next morning, the door opened wide—just long enough for everyone to see a smiling teller waving goodbye.
4. At dawn, when most people were still asleep, a jogger passing by U.S. Bank caught a whiff of something peculiar—a faint scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the early-morning air. Curious, the jogger decided to take a closer look and noticed that one of the bank’s doors was slightly ajar. Inside, in the dimly lit lobby, stood an old coffee machine, its timer set for dawn, pouring out steaming cups into empty mugs. A delivery driver arriving later that morning found himself asking the manager, ‘Who keeps ordering coffee at six AM?’ To which the manager replied with a smile, ‘Probably just our friendly neighborhood ghost.’