Mrs Growster's Dad and Mum ran a hugely successful pub back in the sixties and early seventies. They worked their socks off, selling not only pints, but the basics for a lunch, like toasted sandwiches, rolls, ploughmans' etc.
They only employed staff on just one night-off a week - Tuesdays - and were always working for twelve hours a day, plus preparing the food every day. It was jolly hard work, and while the eventual financial benefits allowed them to retire to a house locally long after a normal retirement age, the work took its toll, and her Dad popped off far too early, because he'd just spent his whole life at the grindstone, and sadly got the consequences. Luckily her Mum stayed with us for years afterwards!
Mrs Growster and I would always help out at weekends, when I was back down from my London job, and she was always on hand when she wasn't teaching, so we had a happy band of family, making the visitors happy, laughing at the old boys and gals in the bars, and generally having a very social time!
Beer was less than two bob a pint then, sandwiches were 2/6, and the locals - some of whom were casualties from WW1, could enjoy a pint of mild for just a few old pennies, then wander off in their own world.
Pubs nowadays just don't do this.
Chums here will put their oar in, and I can perhaps tell a few more tales of the unexpected...