I lived in a half of a double house from first grade to fifth grade. Today they are called twins, a much nicer name. We rented from the owners, who lived in the other half. It was the Lazorchek family. Nick, the dad, was a barber. The front room of their house was a barbershop. This was on Dowell Street, named after a founder of the town, Robert Mc Dowell. I guess early Slatingtonians weren’t big fans of prefixes!
It cost one dollar to get a haircut in the early-60s. One dollar, can you imagine? There were a half dozen or so barbers in Slatington. They all charged one dollar. They all thought that it was time to raise the price of a haircut. But each one was afraid to make the first move! Inflation affects barbers too. I was privy to the information about what was to happen next because my dad often talked to Nick, my barber/neighbor.
Collusion! Conspiracy! Cabal! The barbers all got together to discuss their frustration with the price of a haircut. I can imagine them looking for an out of the way place to meet to discuss the issue. Maybe they met in Bedbug Cave or in the old, abandoned cemetery off of Seventh Street. These are the barbers I remember from that time: Nick, Shorty Lehman, Patsy Frieda, Claude Merkle, Kenneth Eckhart. I am sure there were others but here is the point. They all got together to put forward a travesty on the male citizens of our fine borough! Every single barber, there were no holdouts, raised the price of a haircut to $1.25!
We survived the rise in price, of course. But just a few years later the younger, male townsmen got their revenge on the barbers. That was the time the Beatles arrived and a lot of us stopped getting haircuts at all. Revenge is sweet!
Today I pay $14, plus tip, for a haircut. Still relatively cheap even though I have very little hair to cut.
I don’t know what barbers are left in Slatington. I do know that Patsy Frieda, son of the aforementioned Frieda, still cuts hair in his shop on Main Street. He is in his eighties. It’s been a while since I have been in there, but it is a treasure trove of Slatington memorabilia. I’d like to go in just to see his historical collection, but I am not sure I want to trust someone in their eighties to cut my hair! I may come out of there looking bald…oh, wait! 🙂
A Semi-retired Kind of Life 