Every morning, Jim Hanson reminds himself to be grateful for another day. Then, at 7 a.m., he and his friends gather at Bread Alone for coffee, conversation, and plenty of jokes.

“We mostly make fun of each other,” Hanson says with a chuckle.

“We never get along,” says Richard Heppner, Woodstock’s town historian.

“There’s no initiation or hazing,” adds Tom Unrath, a retired lawyer.

The trio forms the core of the Geezer Corps, a group that has done more than share laughs—it has helped spread the spirit of community volunteerism through Woodstock.

On November 5, 2016, Hanson, Unrath, Heppner, and the late Lorin Rose unveiled the restored Keegan Bell, once part of St. Joan’s Catholic Church, now displayed at the Mescal Hornbeck Community Center. The bell honors Woodstock’s bluestone quarrying era, when Irish immigrants like Peter Keegan worked in the quarries at Overlook and Ohayo mountains. By restoring it, the Geezer Corps paid tribute to those who built the town—just as they have by repairing bridges, cemetery signs, and constructing the Comeau property kiosk.

Now, with Rose’s passing last spring, the Geezer Corps has lost one of its own. Hanson, 86, remains a steadfast presence, a guardian of Woodstock’s past and an active part of its present. But he knows time marches onward.

“I’ve spent a lot of time in bars. I know what ‘86’ means,” he says. Too the point, and with a smile. “I’m at peace with it. I’ve had a good life.”

Diagnosed with bowel ischemia, a condition that restricts blood flow to the intestines, Hanson remains positive.

“I’m grateful for every day,” he says. “I’m not into cursing the darkness. That’s not helpful—to me or anyone around me. Let your attitude be gratitude.”

A Legacy in Fire and Service

Hanson has spent decades serving Woodstock, most notably as captain of the fire police. This year, the town honored him by establishing the Captain Jim Hanson Fire Police Award, a permanent recognition of a crucial but often overlooked role.

“They’ve always given a firefighter of the year award, but I’d been pushing for fire police to be recognized, too,” he says. “This tells me they’re going to keep it going.”

For over 55 years, Hanson has been a member of the Woodstock Fire Department. He started as an interior firefighter before transitioning to fire police in his 60s, ensuring firefighters and first responders remained safe.

“People used to think of us like school crossing guards,” he says. “But when you’re standing on a highway, keeping firefighters safe, you know how important the job is.”

Hanson has served as captain of the fire police for 20 years. He moved to Woodstock in 1968 and joined the fire department within a month.

“I’m of an age where volunteering was automatic. If you moved into a community, you asked, ‘What can I do?’”

As a self-described “long-haired hippie Democrat” in a rather conservative 1968 Woodstock, he wasn’t sure how he’d be received.

“But they realized I was there to help, so nobody cared about anything else,” he says. “You were accepted as part of the family.”

After retiring, Hanson’s commitment to service grew. He joined the Environmental Commission, worked with the Comeau Trails Task Force, and volunteered with food pantry.

But he worries about the future.

“One thing I miss is volunteerism,” he says. “It’s going away.”

A Life of Music, Family, and Friendship

Hanson spent his career as a social worker. His son, Dan Hanson, 52, now living in New Hampshire, recalls his father as someone who always included him.

“Dad is oozing with love. Instead of isolating me as a kid, he always found ways to bring me into the community. We made maple syrup together,” Dan said, remembering that his father sometimes sold maple syrup, but mostly gave it away.

Dan reflects on his father’s mortality with a mix of acceptance and contemplation. “Death sucks. We all would rather deny it.”

Hanson was also a musician. He was an original member of the Woodstock Warblers, a country-folk band that played in the ’70s and ’80s.

A Changing Woodstock

Jim Hanson’s love for Woodstock is woven into his daily life—from the fire department to the friendships formed over coffee.

Richard Heppner, 73, Woodstock’s town historian, has been part of the Geezer Corps for over a decade.

“Every day, 7 a.m., for 10 years. It lasts about 45 minutes to an hour. I didn’t expect to make such close friends in my 60s and 70s,” he says.

Tom Unrath, 76, another Geezer Corps regular, joined about eight years ago.

He recalls how a civil service audit once uncovered $22,000 in back pay owed to Hanson. “He put it all toward a fire police response van,” Unrath told The Overlook.

For Hanson, friendships and service remain central to his identity. His philosophy on life is simple:

“Our main rule is: have fun.”

Noah Eckstein is the editor-in-chief of The Overlook. Send correspondence to noah@theoverlooknews.com.