My grandmother was Gladys Smith, who was a waitress at The City Cafe in the early 1940s. Between the lunch and dinner runs, she would sit in one of the big windows facing Main Street and smoke a cigarette.One day a handsome man, wearing a fedora, drove by in a convertible. Grandma turned to her co-worker and said, “He was handsome. I’m gonna marry that son of a (expletive).”A month or so passed, and the handsome guy in the fedora came into the cafe for lunch. He sat at the bar, which is still there in the present day Brique ...