The unassuming Bean There Café, possibly Oakville’s longest-standing coffee shop, closed its doors for good last week. The popular eatery at 106 Reynolds Street was owned and operated by Brett Titus since 1995 and had become a community hub for downtown residents and many of the town’s outdoor swimmers, racing cyclists, marathoners and triathletes. On May 27, his last day of operation, Titus climbed a ladder with a paintbrush and white paint to adorn his store canopy with the words, “DONE THAT!”
Titus took a break from clearing out his shop last weekend to share some memories with Oakville News. Here is the conversation, condensed and edited for clarity.
From the social media comments, it sounded like the closure came as a shock to your patrons and staff. When did you decide it was the time to shut down?
The timing wasn’t my choice, but it was my decision to close. My lease had been month-to-month with the landlord since the road construction started down here (in downtown Oakville in 2018). I was fortunate enough that my lease had come up a few months before the construction started, so I had a chance to get out if things weren’t going well during construction. Then COVID came along, and I was actually in a better position to negotiate the rent. Honestly, in a lockdown, I didn’t think anything would happen. But three and half weeks ago, a franchise made my landlord an offer on this space. They were ready to come in on June 1. He gave me first right of refusal, which is all I can ask for. It’s been 26 years, and it probably was at the point where it was meant to be.
You would have had to sign into a five-year lease to stay open?
If I had had another six months to sort things through with the lockdown and rent subsidies, I think I would have been able to do it. But the possibility of the fourth wave, and the uncertainty of the lockdown, if all of it came to a head, I’m on the hook personally for the business -- my house and everything.
Every five years, around the time the lease came up, there was a big negotiation, and it’s come to a head a couple of times over the past 26 years, but this time it was just the way it all worked out. It’s sad because the street renovation is finally finished, and it’s beautiful down here. I loved last summer when we were out of lockdown for a bit. I think downtown Oakville is just going to thrive after this, and the café won’t be here for it -- that part I feel bad about.
How have your customers responded to the closure?
It’s been so overwhelming and humbling. I don’t know why it surprised me. Everybody just loved this place so much. I can’t believe the outpouring of grief and the sense of loss. It’s been really heartwarming to see it had such an effect.
I always had this steady group of seniors who would open the morning with me. Over the years, people passed away, and new faces joined, but it seemed like there was always a steady group of five or six guys aged 75 plus. Some of them came by to say goodbye to me today even though I was closed and the lights are off. I put a pot of coffee on, and we were spaced out and whatnot. It was so nice to see everyone pass through.
Right now, everyone is a bit lost. I didn’t realize what the place meant to everybody. With COVID, there’re not lots of (athletic) events, but the plan is to continue with that part. The running groups, the swim groups from the lake, we’ve been meeting here for 20 years. I’ll keep doing that.
How are you feeling these days?
I kept it together for the whole three weeks. But when you start pulling stuff off the walls, it really starts to hit you. I’m now in the process of cleaning my beloved espresso machine that is going to be hopefully walking out of here tomorrow.
I’ve given myself four days to sell off everything and get it all cleaned up. I got a big U-haul rented, and what doesn’t sell is going into my empty garage. I didn’t know how long it would take because I’ve never had to close a business before.
Back in 1995, why did you choose Oakville to open your coffee shop?
I was running a convenience store in Edmonton just down from West Edmonton Mall for a couple of years. I had worked as a territory rep in the convenience store business prior to that, and there were layoffs, and they offered me one of the locations instead of a payout. Then I met a lady who lived in Oakville, so I moved here to be with her.
Had you been around Oakville much before?
I grew up in Collingwood, and I remember when I was 14 years old, I said I was going to go on a bike tour. I can’t believe my mom let me do this, but she did. I had a 10-speed bike with panniers on it, and I rode to Niagara Falls. I distinctly remember coming through Oakville to do that. I think at the time, it was the highest income area in the province, and I had wanted to see how luxurious it was -- as a 14-year-old on a 10-speed. I remember it was quite a quaint little town back then.
Then, as a 32-year-old, you fall in love, and you’re moving here to start a new life.
When I moved, I had to find a business I wanted to buy. I looked into laundromats, car washes, and all kinds of things. In Edmonton, there was Grab-a-Java, and they had like, five or six locations. Starbucks was moving into Alberta, and they were still kind of the cool young kids on the block -- they had a great reputation. So I spent a couple of days in Seattle to research the whole café industry. When I started, it was still probably six or seven years ahead of Starbucks making it into Eastern Canada.
I really enjoyed the personal contact that you would get in a café -- that was really the big thing. I’m by nature a bit of a shy person, and this was something that gave me an outlet to not be so shy.

Submitted.
Vintage Bean There Café
Brett Titus on opening day January 13, 1995.
Bean There really became a community gathering place.
I met so many friends through the café. I met my wife through the café. It was my social network. My average day for 24 or 25 years was to wake up at 4:30 a.m., wait for the baking to come in while I read the paper and got prepped to open for 7 a.m., and I went until 6 p.m. Customers would tease me and say I was working too much, but I would tell them I was only working half a day. I loved working. I loved being here. It was my life. I didn’t mind.
It sounds like you didn’t end up with the person who brought you out here.
That relationship lasted for maybe nine months after I got here. She was a really nice lady, but it didn’t work out, probably more my fault than hers. I guess I was married to the café back then.
We first chatted for a story about the lake swimmers so I know you’re an accomplished athlete yourself, having completed several Ironman competitions, marathons and triathlons. Did that come about before or after your café?
There is no way I would have ever been doing a marathon without the café. I did run before -- I had a sports background, and I was from an athletic family. Like when I was 17, I moved out West to pursue ski racing, and in my 20s, I was a ski coach out in Banff. But the running and triathlon -- that didn’t start until the café. It was really the people I met here that got me involved in running to that extent.
You met your wife at the café. When did that happen?
We were introduced through one of the runners -- she was part of the original running groups in 2005. She’s such an outgoing person; most of the regulars know her. She was here a lot, if not physically, then in spirit. She’s been an integral part of everything social that has happened here.
Looking through the online photo album you assembled, there are so many people who have passed through these doors. Can you choose one to tell me about?
Eleanor was a customer of the catering business Heaven on Earth that was operating in this space for about a year before I bought it. Eleanor was sitting in here when they closed, and she was sitting in here when I opened it.
During the three-week renovation, when I was converting the place, she kept coming in and asking questions. She would look at me somewhat judgingly. I think I won her over when I put a smoke-free sign up over the door. It was the 90s, and they allowed smoking in the previous business.
We became wonderful friends probably for the next seven or so years. She was here every day, two or three times a day. She knew everybody. Eleanor ended up having dementia in the following years and couldn’t come into the café for a few years. I saw her all through the illness. She was just around the corner at Churchill Place, and I’d see her walking by in her walker. As the months went on, she would forget to look over, and that was always tough to see.
A year or two after Eleanor passed, her kids came into the café, and it was so great to see them. They pulled out this folder and said, “Eleanor’s estate came up, and we wanted to let you know Eleanor has left you a sum of money.” There on the will was the names of her three kids, her three grandkids and me.

Submitted.
Bean There Café regulars
Bean There Café's first critic and best fan Eleanor, with her friend Pam (left).
She adopted you as a family member.
Yes. That was really something special, the fact she thought about it a few years prior. Her best friend was Pam, who was with me every day until maybe a year ago. I think she was 97 years old. She was very special as well. There are so many special people who came through.
Can you tell me about any mementos you will keep from the store?
I always carried local artists in here, and one of the early ones painted a picture of the café, and I just love it. That one is a real treasure.

Submitted.
A treasured memento
A painting of the storefront gifted to Brett Titus by a local artist.
One of my early staff was in a Grade 9 woodworking class, and she carved out a bowl on a lathe that became our tip bowl for the next 20 years. I thought that was cool she brought that in.
There’s one family that would come in, and if COVID hadn’t happened, I would have had the fourth generation in because the grandparents just had their great grandkid. This family of six came in every Sunday, and the eldest member I knew was the mother, who made this ceramic mug for me at Crack Pot Studio. On the side, she inscribed “Bean There Café” and put lots of love into it. It was a great little cup.
And I’m trying to get through all my utensils. There are lots of things I can’t bring myself to throw out, like the butter knife I got when I bought the business, that sort of thing.
A former employee started a GoFundMe for your sendoff, and she wrote a lovely tribute about what she learned working at Bean There for her first job as a teenager. I imagine that you trained up quite a few young people over the years.
I think back, and I miss my staff -- some I can’t even remember their last names now, but you see them on the payroll, all the staff that worked here. I probably had 60 to 70 people over the years, and 75 percent of those people worked here as their first job and stuck around for two or three years. I kind of wish I had a collage of all their faces. Originally I was hiring out of the high schools, at 15 and I could keep them for two or three years. When they got rid of Grade 13, it would shorten up their time. Later on, I would get college students from Sheridan -- one of them worked for me for five years. When you got a good group of students working together, it really just hummed.
Being here as long as you were, I’m sure you’ve seen many changes in the café scene and downtown Oakville.
When I got here, cafés were still a new concept, and there weren’t that many. I was surprised to find Grab-a-Java already here with one location in Oakville, but they were not a big franchise, and they didn’t last that long. There was the Green Bean, and over 20 years, I often got confused with them. So much so, I had their number pinned to the wall to give to customers who were trying to meet people but at the wrong shop. Green Bean was around for a long time, and Yak Café was another one. I did manage to outlive most of them. When Timothy’s moved in across the street, that definitely ate into my business. It was a tough 10 years, but then they closed. Two or three years later, Aroma Café moved into that spot.
Now, there are a lot of cafés in downtown Oakville, and you can make memories at any one of them. I always say it’s the people that make a place; it’s not the shop.
What’s next for you and Lambrina?
Lambrina works for a non-profit in Toronto, so she’s going to continue that. For me, I haven’t had much time to think about it. Since I found out, it’s just been a scramble to get through the last few weeks of business. Usually, when you get into something like this, you have a few months or a year to consider your options. I’m 58, and I won’t be in a position to retire. I’ve decided to call this a semi-retirement. I certainly made some connections over the years, and lots of people have come in and talked to me about different options. I’m going to enjoy working for somebody for a change. Not having all the weight on my shoulders, that would be quite attractive to me right now. I’m not going to start a new business. You can’t look back. What I had here was pretty special. Whatever I do next, I’m going to enjoy doing it.