The Hudson Bench Gang

The Hudson Bench Gang

When the rooster crows at dawn at Jewel Luebke’s house, you’ll find her already in the kitchen, fast at work baking a pie.

The early morning routine stems from a promise Luebke, 77, made to her late husband. He was a member of his town’s unofficial fraternity of men known as the Hudson Bench Gang, and he didn’t want them to feel forgotten when he was gone.

“John made me promise to always take the boys something to eat on Monday mornings, and I have never missed a Monday since,’’ Luebke says with a smile.

The Hudson Bench Gang has no fancy clubhouse or strict membership guidelines. Joining the gang is easy, says 76-year-old member Cleotis Carswell: “You have to be over 60, ugly (at least moderately so), and able to use a hoe.’’

The group of retirees gathers every day around 8 a.m. on benches in front of the 1908 Hudson Hardware/Mercantile Store (hence the gang’s name) to share in a camaraderie that’s gotten them through many years—good times and bad.

“Most of us get up with the chickens and go to town, and nothing pleases our wives better,” Carswell says.

Visitors to Hudson (pop. 3,078), a cotton mill town in the rural North Carolina foothills, might think it odd when they first see these “older’’ guys sitting around on benches, sipping coffee, and shooting the breeze. But locals will tell you in a minute that this is a long-standing tradition—and one to be respected.

Most of the men are World War II veterans. They think of themselves as just average guys with good hearts; family men with grown children and lots of grandchildren to brag about. And most have been married to the same woman for 50 years or more. They once were farmers, carpenters, and mill workers, and number about 10, more or less.

A typical morning finds the gang settled in on the benches, swapping tall-tales, exchanging family news, and slinging good-natured insults at each other. About the only thing they agree on, says Cleotis Carswell, is that Duke University has itself a pretty good basketball team in the Blue Devils.

Actually, they do have one other thing in common: a desire to garden and to help their little community in their own, very personal ways.

“They’ve been doing good deeds for others for around 50 years,’’ says Hudson town manager Rebecca Bentley, who was born and raised in Hudson. “I visited them just this morning when I bought some tomatoes from their veggie stand.”

Each year, the Bench Gang grows fresh vegetables—that’s where the hoe skills come in handy—and sells them in town in the summer. Money raised goes to a scholarship donation at the local community college, a fund established in memory of one of their founding members, Ralph Cloer.

In the fall, they pick and sell walnuts, their revenue going toward hospices and other agencies. And they deliver fruit baskets to shut-ins and nursing home residents during the holiday season. Last Christmas they delivered 100 baskets to the elderly.

Treasurer Bill Miller, 80, chalks it up to being neighborly. “Some years we make more money than others on our vegetables and walnuts, but we still try to do for as many folks that need help as we can. After all, that’s the true spirit of living a good life.”

And when a gang member passes on, they show up to help his widow in her time of need. Jewel Luebke says when John passed away four years ago, the boys showed up with tools in hand and planted azaleas in her yard.

“This is really all about people caring about each other,’’ Luebke says.

The mercantile’s owner Ginger Kirby says when she and her husband bought the store several years ago, the Bench Gang made them feel right at home.

“They are just great guys. Every one of them is special, and we really enjoy them being around the store every day,’’ Kirby says.

Strictly in fun, the Bench Gang recites their slogan: “Wars started and fought, assassinations plotted, governments run, uprisings quelled, tigers tamed, bars emptied, and stud services available.”

“You realize we’re just joking, don’t you?’’ Carswell comments, chewing on his cigar.

When the church bell across the street strikes noon, the boys head home for lunch. Afternoons are reserved for running errands or doing odd jobs for neighbors.

It’s just another day in the life of the notorious Hudson Bench Gang, living the good life in the heart of the South.

Judy Ausley is a writer living in Black Mountain, N.C.

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