HAIRCUTS ARE FREE

In my case hair cut were free after the first one.  Understand that I was my mom’s first child, Jesse Columbus James, born in 1923, and I had a head of what they called “handsome black curls.”  You might imagin’ how much attention I got, but my mother got most of the benefit with friends ooh-ing over my black curls.

Now my dad had a “thing” about long curls on a boy.  In those days (the mid-1920s) my family di’n’t have a camera, so we only had word of mouth from relatives to prove it, but dad din’n’t need such proof.  He could for his self what I looked like.

JESSE C’S FIRST HAIR CUT

One day he took me to Mr. Peterson’s barbershop in Somerset and had him cut them curls all off.  I don’t recall that day itself, but I heard about it often enough afterward…over the next few years.  I do recall that there were two chairs in the shop, side by side.  One was Mr. Wilhelm’s (who would become my sister Thelma’s father-in-law) and the other belonged to Mr. Peterson. Each of them told me about that day again and again over the years. 

But their tellin’ that story was not all there was to it.  They could only have imagined the storm that blew in when Mother saw me.  In them days, people di’n’t believe in divorce or even mention the possibility, but from what I heard later, that might have been a blessin’.  From what I heard, that haircut set Mom into a “damn fit of rage” over what had been done to me.  I’ve always wondered what that quiet women said to dad when I overheard comments later.

Everyone called my baby hair black, but it was just dark.  All my uncles and cousins had dark hair that started turnin’ gray when they were teenagers.  All my aunts also had dark hair, but no one had curly hair, just me.

Now Dad musta paid for that first haircut, ‘cause as I grew older he never took me back to Mr. Peterson’s Barber Shop for a haircut.   Mainly ‘cause we di’n’t have any money for it.  Besides I don’t think Dad would have dared to take me back to that barbershop.   Mom’s three brothers, Frank, Robert, and Lawrence McCoy still lived near their old home in my early years and the regularly cut each other’s hair.  As grandkids came along and were brought to visit grandparents John and Jessie Mae McCoy, one of the activities in that visit was an “Uncles Special.” All visiting boys got their hair cut while they were there.  It was a project.  We were outside on a stool or chair with Uncle Frank, Rob, or Lawrence grinnin’.

MY McCOY UNCLES AND THEIR HAIR CUTTIN’

Everyone called my baby hair black, but it was just dark.  All my James and McCoy uncles and cousins had dark hair that started turnin’ gray when they were teenagers.  All my aunts also had dark hair, but no one had curly hair, just me.

I don’t remember any of the girl’s getting a hair cut at all.  They either braided it or bundled it up someway on the top or back of their heads.  Lucky them.  When The Uncles finished with our hair, we looked sheared.

My uncles had hand held clippers that weren’t too different from electric clippers you see today, but they weren’t electric.  They were uncle-powered.  They had two slim handles  that were kept apart by a spring. To get the clippers to clip ya had to squeeze the handles together.  So “the haircuttin’” resulted from their was constant squeezing and un-squeezing the handles as one of The Uncles moved it over the hair…just like a real barber. 

The only problem was, they got really strong hands from cutting so many heads of hair.  When they got to cutting the several nephews heads they got to tellin’ each other stories and laughing.  As they got to yakkin’ they’d pull rather than cut the hair,   Not intentionally of course, but when they did pull rather than cut hair, it hurt like fire, and we kids would let out a cry of pain.

NOW, “THE UNCLES” WEREN’T NO BARBER SHOP

When Uncle Lawrence was workin’ on my haircut, he worked as fast as he could while talkin’ to a neighbor who had dropped in.  I think the neighbor was beggin’ for a haircut.  When he got about halfway up my head, the visitor asked about the latest joke old man Fowler had pulled on one of his co-workers.  It di’n’t sound funny to me, but it must have been a real knee slapper ‘cuz each of them began to fill each other in on more of that story.  They were hardly able to talk they were laughin’ so hard.  I couldn’t tell which was worse, the sound of my hair bein’ ripped out like a carpet, or the pain it caused.  Only when I yelled and pulled away did Uncle realize he wasn’t usin’ them clippers right.

My uncles didn’t furnish hair tonic like a regular barbershop either.  Once in a while I’d got to go to Mr. Peterson’s to wait for someone an’ they’d come out smellin’ of “Lucky Tiger.”  It cost 5¢ or 10¢ extry to git a few sprinkles on top and have it massaged into your scalp as “hair tonic.”  I bought my own bottle at the drug store when I was in high school.  I think you can still buy Lucky Tiger or Brilliantine in in some of the drug or grocery stores today. (Note: this was recorded in 1980 when his son Tim said he’d seen it around.)

Besides the hair goo the barber rubbed in , what I thought really made a barbershop  “up town” was the big cotton cover, sometimes striped, to keep the hair from fallin’  inside yer shirt.  It might have been a bit tight around the neck, but it did the job my uncles never thought of such a thing for use on us kids. We just held the neck of our shirts tight.

ENTER: DAD’S HORSE AND MULE CLIPPERS

A later improvement in hair clipping, of sorts, came along when the farmers and horse and mule traders could get more money for their animals at a sale if the animals looked “groomed.”  This was b’fore ‘lectric lines were all over the country.  Somebody came up with what they called a “mule cable.”  It worked good on horses ‘n’ mules manes ‘n’ tails.  In fact, when dad and his crew brought in those horses and mules from the back pastures to get them ready for sale, they had to trim those un-brushed, ratty manes and tails. Once those animals were all trimmed and dressed up for sale, they looked real civilized. A couple of them probably were.

The horse trimmin’ machine really wasn’t too expensive, but when two or three farmers shared the cost of one, every penny they saved was good enough when you di’n’t need to use the trimmers every week.  They figured the purchase cost was recovered when they got higher prices for such good lookin’ animals.  It got to be fun watchin’ them in action.  We kids’ sat in a corner jest to watch. Then, some of the kids would let Dad’s hands cut their hair, if they were brave.

This new “mule cable” that Dad (’cause he raised his own race horses or bought mules and bigger horses outta Wyoming from the Gurensky’s and sold ’em as work horses) and “The Uncles” (for the few plow mules or saddle horses they had) got was a gear box with a crank on one end settin’ on a pedestal about 4 feet high. (see image below)  The cable, about ¼’ thick was in a covered housing so it wouldn’t get caught where it shouldn’t.  On the business end of the horse/mule clippers was a head much like regular hair clippers only bigger.  Turning the crank at one end made the clipper blades at the other end move back and forth.   One. Major. Problem.  The guy turning the crank on the gearbox had to keep up a steady, even speed.  If he di’n’t, the blades would change speed, catch in the horse or mule’s hair, then,… watch out for the animal’s front hoof that was aiming for yer pocket or, drat, its hind leg that had just cow kicked ya.  When electricity became available and controlled, a lot of problems with those mule clippers faded away when the speed of the blades was no longer changin’ with The Uncle cranker.

One other interesting design, probably older is the “hand bicycle” type. The two-man team needed, had the guy holding the moving clippers across the horse, while “the engine” guy turns the crank – s t e a d i l y – that causes the cable to move back and forth inside the housing/cover. These guys must be pretty good just to have one tie down on that good horse.

BACK HOME FROM WWII AND THE U. S. NAVY

When I got out of the Navy and came back home, much had changed, but Uncle Rob was still around to cut my hair with what looked like the same ol’ clippers.   Later in the 1950s he cut my sons’, Mike and Tim’ s hair.  However by that time his clippers had gotten a little dull.  For a couple of times they put up with the same ol’  stories and laughin’ and hair pulling.  The youngest, Tim, decided the hairpulling was not for him.

We now have a woman cutting our hair.  Many years ago she was given some fancy clippers from a lady across the street who bought them to groom her pet poodle, but decided not to use them and gave them to June, my wife and the kids’ mom.  After June figured out how to use all the attachments, she bought an Oster Hair Cutting kit for us humans and she’s been cutting her family’s hair ever since.  That was more than 30 years ago.  Mom’s hair cuts don’t pull and cut divots, she does put an old towel or half sheet around our necks, but she isn’t perfect. We do have to tell her now and ag’in to shut ‘em down between customers to let the clippers cool off.  Best of all? The haircuts are back to bein’ free.