Ric Hudson’s popular “All About Manitou Springs” Facebook page began as an accident of technology.
Hudson, 66, didn’t mean to start a Facebook page that would make him the town’s unofficial spokesperson and grizzled malcontent.
It was 2016 and Hudson was writing a rant on his friend’s “I Love Manitou Springs” page about how tourists were clogging the sidewalks, and he suggested they learn to walk single file.
After he posted, he couldn’t figure out how to leave the page. Then a prompt asked, “Start Your Own Page?”
So he did.
Eight years later, the page is closing in on 13,000 members.
Every morning at 8 a.m. (“God help me if I sleep in till 9!”) Hudson’s page gives locals and tourists the lowdown on what’s happening in Manitou: the weather forecast, special events, a list of needs at the food pantry, funny memes, news, gossip, music playing at the local bars.
He uses the page to help friends with funeral costs, promoting their GoFundMe pages. Five of his fellow barflies at the Royal Tavern have died recently, along with two other friends.
“I’m starting to have survivor guilt,” he said, eating an English muffin at his favorite breakfast joint, Uncle Sam’s Pancake House.
“More coffee, Ric?” a waiter asked, as he passed by.
“What’s up, Ric?” a passing Manitou police officer asked a moment later.
I say the truth, and I’m blunt. – Ric Hudson
His Facebook page has made Hudson a bit of a celebrity. Locals know him. He recently was stopped on the avenue by a female tourist from Georgia, who asked, “Are you Ric Hudson?”
“Depends. Are you pregnant?”
Those who know him will recognize just how “Ric” that response was.
If Hudson has become the premier unofficial spokesperson and media influencer in Manitou, he’ll be the first to admit he’s an awkward fit for the role.
Polished, he ain’t.
At the coffee shop, he was dressed in his usual worn jeans, black leather jacket and Colorado cap, the brim lined with silver lighter clips. He’s an unapologetic chain smoker. His untamed gray hair and beard reflect a certain Manitou style that says, “I wouldn’t go into a snooty salon if you paid me.”
The Royal Tavern has become his version of “Cheers,” where everybody knows his name.
“Most other places have kicked me out,” he said, snickering.
His page has made him plenty of enemies. How many?
“You don’t have enough space in your paper to list them all,” he said with a laugh.
He makes enemies because his posts go way beyond the weather, public service announcements, and music listings. He also uses his page to rant.
“I say the truth, and I’m blunt, and a lot of people don’t like that,” he said.
To be clear, when Hudson talks about “truth,” it’s often the truth as he understands it at the moment, and that truth often becomes a moving target.
For example, his recent rant about the Carnivale parade’s postponement due to weather initially blamed city officials. He learned later they had nothing to do with the decision, and he eventually came around to defending it.
He has ticked off many local businesses by recounting unpleasant experiences, like having to pay a music fee on top of his regular bill at the Armadillo Ranch.
His post about recent city elections, in which he called some re-elected councilors “bullies,” made even more non-fans in high places.
If Hudson were just making these comments on his own Facebook page, it wouldn’t get the huge pushback he’s received. But when a page is called “All About Manitou Springs,” many tourists and locals visiting it for the first time might reasonably assume it’s an official page, run by the city or chamber.
“They might, and they’d be wrong,” said Leslie Lewis, Manitou’s Chamber of Commerce executive director. “I think Ric does some really good things with the page, some good promotion for different businesses and events. But he also tends to go after people.
“That part can be pretty negative, and it’s not good for us, not good for anybody in Manitou. If he would stick with helping people and stick with the positive and upbeat, that would be fantastic.”
Although Hudson gets tired of the flak he gets for his occasional rants, and regularly thinks about quitting the page, he’s unlikely to clean up his act. It’s just not him.
Hudson was born and raised in Homer, New York, a small town just outside Syracuse. He worked at a drugstore, tended bar and owned a pool hall.
Hudson’s older brother, who’d been working as an accountant in Colorado Springs, helped Hudson move to the area in 2011. He got a job working with his cousin cleaning the streets of Manitou, and instantly fell in love with the town.
“I knew this was my kinda place,” he said. “You can be yourself. And people aren’t invisible. They see one another. You know your neighbors. It’s not like New York.”
He later got a job managing the mobile home park where he lives. He left that job a few months ago and took a part-time job delivering papers for the Pikes Peak Bulletin. He’s currently looking for another part-time job, and he’s not shy about using the “All About Manitou Springs” Facebook page to let potential employers know.
“I think that’s fair,” he said. “I let other folks use the page to let people know they’re looking for work as a handyman or whatever.”
Over the years, Hudson has used his page to wade into various community issues, including homelessness. In fact, he says he has personally tried to help homeless people by putting them up in his home, a practice that led to some nasty rumors.
“I heard I have the second largest human-trafficking service in the area,” he said. “I’d like to know who has the first. I have some kids I’d like to get rid of.”
If he sounds sarcastic and cynical, it’s because he gets weary of the hate and innuendo that come his way.
“I like my privacy. I didn’t want this stuff at all,” he said.
He talks about the burden of running a Facebook page, posting every morning, monitoring it all day, taking messages at all hours of the night. All this for a venture that makes no money.
But it’s the friends and support that keep him going.
“It’s the members who make this page,” he said.
Through their posts, members share ideas. They give dining tips to tourists. They argue about politics, trees, traffic circles, tourism. It’s very Manitou.
“It’s what I love about Manitou, that it’s small enough that ordinary people can make a difference,” he said. “We can run this town. We can change things.”
