The kind of place that knew your name before you sat down.
There was a BBQ joint on Cook Avenue in North Huntsville — right next to the D-Home — that I used to think about more than it probably deserved. Nothing fancy. No sign you'd notice from the highway. Just smoke and a parking lot and the kind of door that always seemed like it had been open forever. You walked in and the person behind the counter already had an idea of what you wanted. Not because they were psychic — because they remembered you.
That place is gone now. And honestly, so is a lot of what made it matter.




