Just south of Kathleen, on Kathleen Road, between 11 a.m. and 4 p.m., most any day of the week, you’re likely to see an unusual hotdog stand. Retired power plant engineer Jim Belcher, at center, owns “Hellacious Hot Dogs”. The motto on his business card reads “Eat & Rest In Peace”. Jim uses a 1982 Cadillac hearse as his attention getting trademark.

By Kyle Kennedy
THE LEDGER

LAKELAND | Death is an unavoidable topic around Jim Belcher’s hot dog stand.

It’s not so much the plastic skeleton perched above the cart or the fact that Belcher grew up in a Boston-area funeral home.

No, it would have to be the 1982 black Cadillac hearse he parks off Kathleen Road when Hellacious Hot Dogs opens for the day’s business.

“People see this, and they want to know what’s going on over here. It’s unreal how it works, but it works,” said the 50-year-old Lakeland resident as he served lunch one recent afternoon. “I’m pretty popular. It’s not because of the hearse, it’s the food.”

Three years ago Belcher retired from a career as a power plant engineer in Holbrook, Mass., and moved to Lakeland to be near his older brother. He bought the Cadillac from his family’s funeral home with plans to go into the cadaver transport business, but it didn’t work out.

So Belcher started thinking about the days he used to work as a line cook in restaurants and what he could possibly do with that glossy black hearse.

In early 2008, Hellacious Hot Dogs set up shop near the intersection of Kathleen and Spivey roads. People noticed.

“It’s a head-turner,” Belcher says. “I use it for storage. It’s the best kind of car you can have. But that’s as far as I go. I don’t cut meat in there.”

His macabre marketing extends to the menu, where a plain, all-beef hot dog is called a “Stiff” and sets you back $1.25. Want cheese and bacon on that dog? Order the “The Undertaker.” A combo with chips and drink is “The Procession.”

The hot dogs are good, but people can’t help talking about the car.

“I just know I could never drive one of those. I think it’s neat though,” said Carrie Bacon, 51, as she stopped for a bite.

A nearby survey crew spots the hearse and ambles over for a meal break.

“Different … very different,” one of the workers remarks before ordering a Stiff.

Sometimes Belcher dons a black hat; gloves; and an apron for maximum effect.

He says it’s easy not to take things too seriously when you’ve grown up in a funeral home, which is now owned and operated by his younger brother.

“I lived around death all my life. I respect it, too, because it’s a hard thing to accept, especially when you see families crying,” he said. “I’m not making fun of anything that has to do with death. It’s my trademark.”

Yet when he got older, Belcher wanted nothing to do with the funeral business. The grim work of moving and preparing bodies for visitation was too much, he said; he preferred to handle the flowers and wash the hearse instead.

Neighborhood kids would often decline to come over and play.

“They thought it was morbid,” he said.

He went on to pull stints as a cook, plumber, welder and other jobs before ultimately spending 25 years as an engineer. He’s been married three times but has no kids and laments that his once-blond crew cut is going gray.

Belcher says he enjoys the independence of having his own business, even if it’s just a hot dog stand and a hearse. He chats up customers in a distinct Boston accent, his creased face pink from the sun.

And he seems to love the attention, even the puzzled looks. He likes how a roadside oddity and cheap, tasty food can improve someone’s day.

“That’s why I say live it up and have a hot dog, because life goes fast, like a candle.”

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BTW,  if you’ve been thinking about starting a hot dog cart business, I’m running a sale on “Carts of Cash” until midnight on the 31st. Enter the word Success in the coupon code box and save $10.

Happy Halloween everyone!

-Steve