It's 1 p.m., and the restaurant is still packed. Don Knight is still taking names on a clipboard. Ray is still drinking Bud and smoking cigarettes, but now he's also playing pinochle with his buddies, two male and one female.
All the tables and most seats at the bar are filled. The recession does not seem to be hurting business here. With glasses clicking, trays filling, plates banging, people laughing, Ray calmly explains his secret: "Good service, good food. People got to eat."
Mary Knight is sitting at a round table on the other side of the restaurant with her sister Joan VanSickle, Sherry, and Sherry's daughters Liz and Lindsay. Sherry took the morning off to drive her mom and aunt to their favorite quilting store and then to the family restaurant for lunch.
Mary worked at the market from the time Chet started school until she retired at the age of sixty-two.
"My wife's done a great job," says Ray. "She's the one to give credit to, not me. The man don't mean nothing."
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