I need a haircut--I sure wish I could go to Henderson's Barbershop again

Me, 8th grade

I'm a couple weeks behind schedule with my monthly haircut and starting to get pretty shaggy on top.  I go to Lincoln Barbershop up the street from me, where I've been a regular for 25 years or so.  It costs $20.00 for a cut, and I give Rose (the only person I trust with my scalp) a $5.00 tip.  

But growing up, I went to Ralph Henderson's Barbershop in my hometown of Waynesburg Pa.  He was 2 doors up from McCracken's Pharmacy, and for years my dad would drop me off with $2.00.  The haircut was $1.50, with a 50 cent tip.  Always on a Saturday morning, you'd open that door, walk in and be greeted with the smell of Bay Rum aftershave, the faint tinny sound of an AM news station from Ralph's radio, and the disapproving stares of 3-4 boys ahead of you.  

They'd give you the once-over before returning to their comic books, and you'd go over to the rack and hope to find Batman or Fantastic Four, anything besides Little Lulu.  I never wasted my allowance on Archie comics, but got my fill of them (and Lulu, Casper the Friendly Ghost & Richie Rich) at the barbershop.

Ralph Henderson was Norman Rockwell's idea of a barber.  He had salt & pepper hair and silver glasses, and wore a white barbers tunic.  He would ask you about your folks and how short did you want to go, but didn't do much talking after that.  If you happened to be there at noon, he would say "Half hour lunch break fellas" and sit at the small wooden desk behind his barbers chair with his bag lunch and quietly read his newspaper.

On the upper right, up the street from McCracken's Pharmacy--that was Ralph's Barbershop

In the top drawer of his desk was a stack of Playboy magazines.  Sometimes, not often, a man would come in for a haircut and head straight back to Ralph's desk until it was his turn.  We knew there was girlie magazines back there, but never tried to sneak a peek.

When it was your turn, Ralph would come around the chest-high partition that separated the front of his shop from his barber chair, and ask who's next.  There was never an argument on who's turn it was, we all knew.  One time a tall, skinny young man came into the shop, he didn't look familiar.  When Ralph called for the next one to come back, the young man stood up and headed back.  We all sat there wide-eyed, in shock.  It's not his turn!  It's Chuck's turn, then George!  Then mine!

Ralph said "Go back and wait your turn."  The young man said we told him he could go ahead of us.  Ralph said "Leave my shop and don't come back for two weeks."  We loved it!

I remember one time walking in, and a kid I knew from Scouts named Doug Tenney was there with a little girl.  I asked who she was and Doug said she was his little sister, he had to watch her while their mom was at the doctor's office, she had a weird thing on her foot.  Another kid asked "Does your mom know any sailors?  I bet she has scurvy" and we laughed so hard!  When it was Doug's turn, he stood up and his sister followed him back.  Ralph said "No girls are allowed past the partition, you fellas keep her busy out there.  

We sat with her and read a Casper comic to her in goofy voices.  It's funny, the stuff you don't forget.

Born in 1923, Ralph Henderson retired in the 1980s and died in 2001.  It's sad to see that Google image of his long closed shop, I'll always remember the front window having Henderson's Barber Shop painted in big blue cursive.  I remember the week before my senior year of high school, sitting down in his barber chair and telling him to go ahead and cut it short around the ears.  (I'd kept my hair long and over my ears since 9th grade.)  He was delighted and told me I was growing up.   Miss you, Ralph.