Roger Hudson embraced life, its adventures
Roger Hudson eyed the large, coiled snake with more interest than trepidation.
In all their world travels this was a unique specimen, being encased in a large, clear bottle and covered with amber fluid. It will come as no surprise to those who knew him to find that he was the only tour member willing to sample Snake Wine in China. A worm in a bottle of tequila pales in comparison.
Hudson was 71 when he died in May. He embraced life and all its adventures with an informed exuberance, unafraid of new experiences – or endless, monotonous work weeks. After all, the menu at Hudson’s Hamburgers is not very long.
His grandfather, Harley Morgan Hudson, opened the first family lunch counter, The Missouri Lunch, in a tent at First Street and Sherman Avenue in Coeur d’Alene in 1907, and it hasn’t moved too far from that spot since.
Now providing for the fifth generation of Hudsons, the hamburger shop is famous for its meaty, fresh burgers, the paucity of adornments, and “family-secret recipe” spicy red and yellow sauces that are the only condiments offered beside ketchup. That was Harley’s doing – he was annoyed with a customer who always used lots and lots of ketchup, so he stirred up the first batch of hot sauce to give him a surprise and a reason to back off a bit.
The business passed from Harley to Howard, then to Roger in 1972, and about 10 years ago to his sons, Steve and Todd. The simple menu continues to attract a large lunch crowd, as well as curious tourists. “Simplicity perfected,” is one reviewer’s comment. His sons learned from working side-by-side with their dad what a good work ethic is, and how loyalty, generosity and fairness can assure one’s future. He was a terrific role model.
Last year the Hudsons traveled to Boise, where they were presented with State of Idaho Centennial Proclamations for both the business and the family.
Roger and Barbara Hudson both felt blessed to grow up, rear their family and earn a living here in Coeur d’Alene. “He made it interesting,” says Barbara Hudson, because he was so interested in people. He was never bored and never boring. Something in a conversation would pique his curiosity about any given topic, which would then become a subject of study, then lead to trying it out for himself. Whatever he did, he was tenacious, whether it was cleaning something up or learning a new skill. He was not a half-way kind of guy.
He discovered that same spirited determination in young Barbara Osborne when the two were passing time at the old Boat Drive-in. He told her she couldn’t run to her home from there, so she got out of the car and proceeded to run all the way home, to 16th and Pennsylvania. She survived.
They dated for 4 1/2 years before marrying in the First Presbyterian Church on Aug. 2, 1959. He liked to tell people that she was so anxious to marry him they timed their wedding so he could attend the hydroplane races in Seattle while they were honeymooning.
Years later, as a member of the Seattle Hydroplane Museum Association, he won a ride in one which was a crowning event after a lifetime of following the sport.
All kinds of sports fascinated Hudson throughout his life. He ran track at Coeur d’Alene High School, where he was a 1955 graduate. While on the relay team he and his teammates set a record that will never be broken – the specs for the race have changed.
When he wasn’t playing or attending events he was listening to them, or music from the 1950s for some variety, on the many radios he scattered throughout the house. About the only time his wife ever heard him yell, it was at the television during some sports telecast. He only ceased running a few years ago, and Barbara Hudson said. “He ran beautifully, with a graceful stride – he looked like he was gliding.”
Hudson had been an active community member throughout his life. He earned a nice Schwinn bicycle as a young paperboy, was a youth leader in Demolay, and on several sports teams at Coeur d’Alene High School. He attended North Idaho Junior College, and went on to finish college at Eastern Washington University in Cheney, with an eye to becoming an industrial arts teacher.
Instead he took over the family business and became a Sherman Avenue influence that still continues. He coached a church league basketball team for a while, and led a Sea Scouts troop. He was voted Kiwanian of the year three years ago. He loved participating in Car d’Alene and all the downtown events. The booster clubs of both high schools and NIC enjoyed his support, as did the Museum of North Idaho.
Hudson was so open with everyone, had no prejudices or vanity to get in the way of new friendships. “Here, come sit by me,” he’d say, and a new friendship would blossom. He loved visiting with people, anywhere, anytime. He was never one to hold a grudge.
In 1981 Hudson called two friends whose husbands had died, and both gave the same advice – if you want to travel, go now. So he studied brochures and informed his wife they were taking a tour to Europe, which they did.
When they returned home he said, “Well there now, we’ve done our traveling.” “Oh, Honey, think again!” was her response. Since then they traveled abroad every other year, and visited every state in the Union in between.
The spirit of adventure infused their last decades with a cultural education as broad as the planet. Hudson rode an ostrich in South Africa and biked across the Golden Gate Bridge. He exulted in hang-gliding above Rio de Janeiro and tried swimming in the Dead Sea. They walked the Great Wall in China, and he hiked up Machu Picchu and the Chilcoot in Alaska. They visited the great Down Under and the world ice-sculpture competition in Alaska. Thailand, Greece, Scandinavia, India, the islands and deserts and tropics of the world have been their playground.
The Hudson home is replete with carefully chosen, artful mementos of their many travels. But the last picture on the camera is the one he always took – a view of Coeur d’Alene Lake – at home once again.
When they returned from India in March, they were hit with the devastating news that Roger Hudson had stage four cancer, in all his major organs. Being a man of faith and practicality, he made the decision not to treat it. “I’m just not afraid to die,” he said. Just as he had not been afraid to reach out and really live while he was here – even if it meant sampling Snake Wine.