If customers didn’t return for the splendid Chicken Polynesian or eggplant parmigiana, they were hooked by the atmosphere and familiar faces of the staff.

Late Tuesday night, waitress Stephanie Lambert stood shoulder-to-shoulder with a cadre of Marco’s cooks, servers and greeters, watching firefighters from five communities stem the flames that destroyed the downtown Lewiston restaurant.

“I watched it burn to the bitter end. Then I went home and dreamed about banquets,” Lambert said.

Through tears and smoke, the Auburn woman saw a decade of her life engulfed.

Not much time when she considered Lucille, who waited on tables throughout Marco’s 26-year history. And Jess, who worked 14 years. And Steve Taylor and Duane Arnold, the two kids who started 15 years ago as dishwashers and preparatory cooks.

Those two loved the business so much they bought it from Marco Giancotti in 2000.

My heart is broken’

Lambert worked the phones in the early hours Wednesday to help connect police with the owners, both of whom were on vacation. Taylor received the wake-up call at a Monmouth campground. Cops knocked on Arnold’s door in Pennsylvania.

“That’s how close we are. We all have each others’ phone numbers and e-mails,” Lambert said. “There are only about 12 to 15 of us who keep that place running.”

She described her bosses as tireless cooks who invested their soul in the business from 8 a.m. to midnight, every day.

“My heart is broken for Steve and Duane,” she said. “It’s their life.”

Paul Carney was an exception to the staff’s usual longevity. He’d worked there for just two months.

At noon Wednesday, an hour when diners traditionally flocked to Marco’s for its lunch buffet, Carney was gazing skyward with about a dozen onlookers near the roped-off area around the decimated restaurant on lower Lisbon Street.

The 32-year-old had been a block away in his apartment overlooking Kennedy Park when he heard the sirens, then the particulars on Tuesday’s 11 o’clock news.

He ran to the scene, and he wasn’t alone.

“We just sort of converged,” Carney said.

Enough already

Hours later, he was still there, dragging on a cigarette and chatting with two older ladies, both customers who knew him by name.

They kidded that Carney is a bachelor in need of a job, and thus, in need of publicity.

“I try to joke around, but I cried last night,” Carney said. “My neighbor keeps telling me what she told me when I lost my last job. When one door closes, another door opens.’ I say, Enough of the doors.'”

Lovers of fine dining have seen too many doors locked in recent months. Marois Restaurant, another downtown treasure, closed last summer.

In the fire at Marco’s, dinner-theater enthusiasts lost a favorite haunt. Engaged couples in the area lost their reception hall.

And yes, good people lost jobs.

“I’ve been a waiter for nine years. I love tending to people’s every need. I get a natural high from it,” Carney said. “I’m a shy guy, but when I get to work with people one-on-one it’s totally different.”

Lambert lamented that she is “not a young chickie anymore.” A drive around the Twin Cities early Wednesday left her worried that she might have to drive to Portland for work.

“We’re all family there. We’ll all help clean up and we’ll all help rebuild – if that’s what they want to do,” Lambert said.

After the adrenaline of the all-nighter and her all-day employment search wears off, Lambert expects the grief process to begin all over again.

Marco’s was much more than a paycheck.

“I’m devastated. I’m sick to my stomach,” the waitress said. “I feel like I just buried a child.”

Kalle Oakes is staff columnist. He may be reached by e-mail at [email protected].