God alone knows how many days the man spent in that little
room with one barber’s chairs and a series of chairs spread around the
walls. Dee Blankenship, the first and
only Pickwick Barber, was well established long before I stepped through his
door back in the late ‘80s.
Back then, I was working as a newspaper reporter for a
journal to be named after my death. Much
like John Snow from the smash TV Series “Game of Thrones,” I knew nothing back
in those days. Many would say I know
even less today, but it wasn’t because of the past 30 years that I paid homage
to the man, the myth, the barber of Colonial Heights. Every three weeks, or thereabout, I would
park along the curb and pull open the door that led to his hallway looking for
a little trim, you know the hair cut kind, thank you very much.
A trip to Dee’s was a secret joy. It was an opportunity to
spend a few minutes, or in some instances, hours where the discussion ran from
current events on the national scale to even the lowliest of CH issues. Indeed, when the waiting line was of the
right sort (sorry ladies), the local conversation would get quite colorful.
Dee would belabor his audience with sordid tales of fast
cars, old friends, and his decade or so getting out of the Petersburg School System. He always complained about how little he
actually made, often stating $6 per hour despite charging $10 a head.
There is an on-going bet on just how many heads he could
clip in a day, but mostly it just depended on Dee and the run of the
conversation. One thing is for certain,
Dee is a man of conviction. He has his
beliefs and he doesn’t much care whether you like them or not. But all of it would serve to start another
run on the salty conversation that every one of his customers enjoyed.
In reality, I don’t think he ever really needed to cut
anyone’s hair. It was almost as if it were a gift from Dee, that was included
as part of the entertainment. There were
many times when the conversation, and humor, yes guttural humor, was what
actually drew his customer base.
From Dee, I learned more about what Colonial Heights was
really like than I ever did as a reporter and resident for the past 30
years. If something odd or unusual, or
even typical, happened in the Heights, Dee knew about it; well if not Dee, one
of his friends who often came to bring him breakfast and lunch and just sit and
shoot the errrr breeze.
My first inkling that he had taken the big step to retire
came by way of FaceBook. The rumors
started last week, but sure enough, they were not rumors. I stopped in this
past Monday just to make sure, and I needed a clipping. The outside door was locked tight. I checked my phone, and realized it was
before 5. So, in fact, he must actually
have retired.
Dee will likely take a short vacation in Myrtle Beach. When he would slip away on vacation from time
to time, that’s where he would end up. He’d
either there got there, or to North Carolina, where his daughter lived and went
to school for some time. I think she has moved away from there now.
Recently, Dee was out of work while recovering from knee
surgery. He came back for a short time, working half days and half weeks. Finally he was back to his four-day week, but
I imagine having all that time off probably gave him an idea that it might be
time to shut the doors.
While I am not sure what his plans for retirement are, I
know that I am not alone as one who will miss him. Haircuts won’t be the same from now on, in
fact I’m not completely sure where I will end up getting a little snip snip
here and snip snip there. But wherever I
end up, haircuts won’t be the same.
Enjoy your life, Dee, your fans will miss you.
