My daddy was a barber for almost 50 years. He had a little barbershop in WP for more than 40 years. He’s retired now but I have fond memories of that barbershop. I pretty much grew up there. My mom worked too so I spent a huge part of my life in daddy’s barbershop.
His shop was really small. He didn’t take appointments.....if you wanted a haircut...you just showed up and waited - first come, first serve. He didn’t even have a phone. WP was a small town back then. It was a farming community and those farmers would just come in and wait until it was their turn.
Daddy was a musician. He played harmonica and guitar. He had this area set up in the back of the barbershop with coffee and chairs. Customers would bring their musical instruments with them and they’d play in the back until it was their turn. You never knew who was gonna be there. Sometimes you’d walk in and in the back there would be a fiddle player and a guitarist. Or a singer with a guitar. Or five or six musicians jamming. Once in a while, my dad would be in the middle of a haircut, the music would get all geared up and dad would say, wait a minute, and he’d leave the customer in the chair and run back and start playing harmonica with the boys. Sometimes the customer in the chair wasn’t real happy about this but I never knew if it was because he wasn’t getting his haircut as fast as he wanted or because he wanted to be back there playing too! Other times, the customer would be having so much fun listening to the music that he didn’t seem to care if dad was cutting his hair or not. Since a lot of the customers were farmers, they didn’t have to be back to work at a certain time.
Sometimes the customers would pay daddy with food instead of money. He came home lots of times with stuff like honey, eggs, etc. And Christmas was really cool. Every year this lady would make peanut brittle and daddy would bring it home. I didn’t even know her name.....we just called her the peanut brittle lady and I looked forward to him bringing it home every year.
I was always the only girl hanging out down there. I was pretty quiet when I was a kid (what the heck happened!!!) and those customers would forget I was there. Boy, the stories and the cussing I heard......my mom would have had a fit if she’d known. When the customers would get to talking about things my mama would have had a fit over, my daddy would just look around the barbershop till he found me and caught my eye and he’d give me this look like, it’s okay. I loved that barbershop and have such wonderful memories of my dad. To this day, I’m more comfortable in a room full of men. Especially if there’s music around.
His shop was really small. He didn’t take appointments.....if you wanted a haircut...you just showed up and waited - first come, first serve. He didn’t even have a phone. WP was a small town back then. It was a farming community and those farmers would just come in and wait until it was their turn.
Daddy was a musician. He played harmonica and guitar. He had this area set up in the back of the barbershop with coffee and chairs. Customers would bring their musical instruments with them and they’d play in the back until it was their turn. You never knew who was gonna be there. Sometimes you’d walk in and in the back there would be a fiddle player and a guitarist. Or a singer with a guitar. Or five or six musicians jamming. Once in a while, my dad would be in the middle of a haircut, the music would get all geared up and dad would say, wait a minute, and he’d leave the customer in the chair and run back and start playing harmonica with the boys. Sometimes the customer in the chair wasn’t real happy about this but I never knew if it was because he wasn’t getting his haircut as fast as he wanted or because he wanted to be back there playing too! Other times, the customer would be having so much fun listening to the music that he didn’t seem to care if dad was cutting his hair or not. Since a lot of the customers were farmers, they didn’t have to be back to work at a certain time.
Sometimes the customers would pay daddy with food instead of money. He came home lots of times with stuff like honey, eggs, etc. And Christmas was really cool. Every year this lady would make peanut brittle and daddy would bring it home. I didn’t even know her name.....we just called her the peanut brittle lady and I looked forward to him bringing it home every year.
I was always the only girl hanging out down there. I was pretty quiet when I was a kid (what the heck happened!!!) and those customers would forget I was there. Boy, the stories and the cussing I heard......my mom would have had a fit if she’d known. When the customers would get to talking about things my mama would have had a fit over, my daddy would just look around the barbershop till he found me and caught my eye and he’d give me this look like, it’s okay. I loved that barbershop and have such wonderful memories of my dad. To this day, I’m more comfortable in a room full of men. Especially if there’s music around.
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