Everyone there are very pleasant and helpful I would…read morerecommend them to everyone I know

The tellers are friendly (this is the only good point). But the loan officer is rude and smart…read more The manager is really not any better, although she will show you a nice front. She would rather look down her nose at you, rather than help someone out. Another thing that is disturbing as a resident of this community, they ONLY look at the past (pretty much always looking the in the rear view mirror), so they'll never move forward or let anyone else for that matter either. I have paid off loans that was through them and they don't even give you thanks for paying it off or even acknowledge those achievements upon applying for another loan. These reasons are enough not do business with them or even have your money through them. Also, if you find anything that is incorrect on your account, they conveniently say "It's not our fault." I highly recommend that community residents look elsewhere for their banking needs. I know I'm pulling my money out!

They are great at catching people trying to scam you and you get a warning from them people at Bank…read morepolite and helpful

I got a LOC woth MCS Bank and it went wonderful I still have the line open and still use the…read morecredit! I was very pleased with the quick response and friendly employees!!!

From the owner: MCS Bank is a state-chartered, MUTUAL savings bank operating seven community branches and a Loan…read moreCenter in Mifflin, Huntingdon, and Snyder Counties.

I had a few bad trying to use their . After signing closing papers, they reneged on the deposit…read morethat was supposed to go into my account that never happened, so I'm not sure if I have been scammed, but I do have these people's information and if I don't have something done by tomorrow, I will be giving names. I would not advise using this company. It may get better but as of tonight, I doubt it.

This bank is amazing. They do their job even when it's…read moreobvious the customer is broke (a.k.a. literally possessing no money ). Saint Chris in hospital shoes showed up at the local suburban equivalent of the "corner store", wearing government issued flip flops from the state mental health inpatient facility, possessing a Vape pen & a 20 Bahrain dinar, a foreign currency which converts to $53 American dollars. These events unfold at 3:39, too late to patron my local bank. And, having no bank account of his own, we do the atherton street shuffle, asking for American money from banks, while Chris, a wristband shy of looking like a fresh released mental patient, gathers candy like it's Halloween. Paranoia tells me that we probably impressed the bank tellers as drug enthusiast, possessing a foreign bill which had been swindled from some random senile old lady via telemarketing fraud as part of an elaborate embezzlement scheme of the federal government's insurance funds in a manner reminiscent of professional bankers. Yet, while staring at his shower shoes, they said, "no account, no service." The second bank said more of the same. By the third bank, he convinced a teller to begin processing him for a bank account. Waiting in an empty office, as explicitly instructed, I begin performing mathematical conversions on an iPhone calculator app in accordance to the algebraic formula suggested by Google, confirming our inclination that Bahrain has more valuable paper than America. At that moment she enters abruptly, simultaneously announcing an inquisition, "You're not just doing this to get the bill exchanged, are you?" She asks. He gives an immediate, pauciloquent reply: "No", while Synchronously unwrapping a jolly rancher from a fistful of amalgamated bank candy as the bank manager recites the corporate monologue. During the ATM fees portion of her soliloquy, in order to demonstrate his sincerity, Saint Chris interrupts her performance to inquire about applying for a personal loan, despite the fact he has abysmal credit, no job nor utility bills nor any other legitimate reason for needing cash on loan with interest. "Well, that's a completely separate process," she stammers, dubiously. We wait in silence for minutes, excluding the vociferous clamor of keyboard typing, until she stops to look up with an expression of relief. "I'm sorry," she begins, feigning empathetic words, "your credit is ummmm... Not approved by the Chex system & I cannot approve an account at this time." "That's cool," sT. Chris replies, looking out the window, while Opening an oversized tootsie roll. Neither of us get up to leave, coercing gaucheness into the room. Further embracing the discomforting ambiance, I turn to sT. Chris, who begins unraveling a tootsie pop this time, "yo, we still got all that candy though." I slur, exaggerating every syllable to extend our time in the air conditioned executive office. "And you still got your $53 dollars worth of Bahrain dinar or whatever it's called." "Yeah, man," he confirms, crunching on lollipop & tootsie roll. "We should have went to your bank." Ignoring the bank manager keeps her in a hostage situation as I shake my head in agreement, staring out the window with existential enlightenment.