Coffee Company : Daily Gathering of Old Friends Brings Echoes of Another Era at Watson Drugs and Soda Fountain

They take their places each morning at the checkered tables at Watson Drugs and Soda Fountain, as they have for more years than they can say.

As the coffee pours and gentle jibes start to fly, the conversation among the mostly retired group of 10 or so old friends invariably turns to two topics: athletics and politics. “They just sit around for an hour or so, drink coffee and solve the world’s problems,” said Scott Parker, owner of the store, a landmark in downtown Orange since 1899.

“They are what you think Orange County was like in the 50s, their manners, their way of thinking. . . . It’s nice really.”

From his corner chair, Duncan Clark, 82, notes that the local high school baseball team looks like a champion this year in spite of a rough start.

“They’ve got three good kids this year at Orange High,” said Clark, who recalls sitting at a nearby counter stool when President Kennedy was shot in 1963. “I don’t know why they didn’t win their opener.”

Moments later, George Robertson, 74, a former minor league baseball player, is amazed that the Chicago Cubs, pennantless since 1945, are in first place.

Some say the group formed 30 years ago. Others say it was more like 10 or 15. The years seem to blur together, they say.

“I can remember someone’s name from 30 or 40 years ago, but I can’t remember someone’s name I met just yesterday,” said Clark. “I guess your computer just fills up and it won’t take any more information.”

To their best recollection, the group, which includes attorneys, merchants and salesmen, just seemed to mysteriously galvanize one day.

“I really don’t know how we started,” said Robertson, a former construction worker who moved to Orange in 1961, and the lone Democrat in a thicket of Republicans. “I just started going for coffee, then someone decided to push the tables together, and that was it, really.”

Though it’s entirely informal and lacks a nickname, the group nevertheless is an unmistakable presence in the old-fashioned drug store. They stake out an area next to the cafe counter, where they push together three or four coffee tables each morning around 7 a.m.

“It was about six months before they invited me over,” said newcomer Peter Nicholson, a salesman and at 61 the group’s youngest member. “I thought it was very nice of them because I can hear them better now.”

Anyone listening to the animated discussions is treated to a menu of mostly current topics such as downtown’s preservation efforts, the county bankruptcy or the baseball strike. News of a massive recall of auto seat belts on a recent morning triggered a flurry of observations, some packing a group specialty: the friendly verbal jab.

“Yeah, [Clyde]’s the one recommending buying stock in seat belts,” joked Charles Ebert, 68, who used to own the stereo shop several doors down.

“Well, the stock is certain to be down now,” shot back Clyde McKinley, 68, a self-employed businessman.

“I’m sure some of those seats are defective all right,” added Clark.

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Recent anti-smoking legislation sparked its own set of discussions late last year. Many are smokers and were unhappy about Parker’s decision to ban smoking a few months before state legislation took effect in January.

“That was a hard decision to make,” said Parker, 52, who bought the store in 1971. “They are loyal customers. But we are a pharmacy, too, and people come in sick and the smoke can bother them.”

But the smokers don’t hold a grudge against the well-liked drug store owner.

“I understand he had to do it,” said Carroll Johnson, 74, a local haberdasher, puffing on a cigarette outside. “He’s still a good egg.”

Nothing stays the same, even in the corner of Watson Drugs and Soda Fountain.

In the decades-old comfort of their morning rhythms is a undercurrent of sadness, brought by the absence of longtime drug store friends.

In April, the group lost 94-year-old Burhl Wing, a downtown barber renowned for his colorful storytelling.

“I thought Burhl would live to be 100,” Robertson said. “He was great guy, a talker. He could tell you stories one right after the other without pausing.”

Added Clark, who like his father was born and raised in Orange and who is recognized for his knowledge of the town’s history, “Some of Burhl’s stories were embellished a bit, but he was pretty accurate.

“I remember him cutting my hair when I was just 11.”

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On most days, the group begins to break up around 10 a.m. when the guys “match” for coffee. The daily ritual calls for repeated coin tosses to whittle the group to a lone unlucky man who gets stuck with the check.

This morning, Clyde lost.

“I’m the wiener,” he said.

After the check is paid, the guys slowly make their way out of the comfort of the drug store. Some head off to work or to run errands. Some visit sick relatives, and some return home.

But the next morning, they know they will be together again.