A retired bookseller, Lorraine Wilbur was a little skeptical when Jack's first opened in 2003, walking past it for several days before stopping in to try the coffee. But who could blame her? At 96, she had seen a lot of coffee shops come and go. Soon, though, she was a regular, dropping in every afternoon for a coffee and croissant. Sometimes, she'd share stories of growing up in New York when horse-drawn wagons still rumbled through the streets, or of the time, as a little girl, that she stole cherries from an orchard - in Manhattan. "My mother was so angry," she said. "Then she made a pie." Lorraine passed away at 100, but her picture still hangs at Jack's, a lasting tribute to a good friend and neighbor. x

Before he passed away in 2009 at 89, Joe Colombo loved sitting on the bench outside of Jack's, sipping his espresso every afternoon and offering life's wisdom to his younger friends. And he had a lot of both. A native of Italy, he came to America at 17 with nothing but one suit in a wicker suitcase, to escape Mussolini. Soon he found himself in the U.S. Army fighting fascism in the Pacific theater. "I went in not speaking English," he often reminded people, "and came out a staff sergeant!" Later, he ran his own furniture company and - with his beloved wife frequented the jazz clubs of the Village. Even as he aged, though, Joe saw life as music, and always told people to enjoy it. "Don't worry too much," he often said. "Life is good." x