Larry’s Log

I needed a haircut so yesterday morning around 8:00 I left the house and went down the ridge to the little town I was raised in. Starting down the ridge I was reminded of why I have lived my life in this area and I became a little melancholy over the fact that in less than two weeks I’ll be living in another state. The lush greens of spring covering the side of the ridge sure isn’t making it any easier to leave. The drive through a rural type setting from home to work and from work to home is what sold me on the house I’m currently living in. I’m glad I had my cameral with me on this short little trip.

Red Bank, Tennessee is the town I grew up in. When I was a child there was a car dealership, a furniture store, two grocery stores, two hardware stores, two pharmacies, a bank several churches, a 5 & dime, a Western Auto and several other businesses that I can’t recall to list. One of the grocery stores was a mom and POP style store with the best ham salad made in their butcher shop that I’ve ever tasted. The other grocery store was a chain store that eventually grew into the biggest grocery chain in the region, was bought by a French conglomerate and sold off to an even larger chain. Most of that is all gone now. My barber, and the churches are all that are still there from my childhood. Most of the store fronts have been torn down for the return of that chain grocery store. The remaining store fronts around my barber are used by an antique auctioneer for warehouse space, a decorator store and an auction hall. The white framed doorway between the blue and green awnings in the picture to the right is my barber’s shop.

Don has cut my hair since I was a squirming toddler. He started out with Mr. Bolton in this barber shop close to fifty years ago. I was one of his early customers. Bobby, the guy in the seat, was probably one of his early customers also. Bobby and I went to high school together. I see a lot of people that I grew up knowing in this barber shop. Mr. Bolton, the original owner, died a few years ago at the age of 96. He had been retired for two years when he died.

I guess one of the things I’m going to hate most about moving is finding a new barber. You develop so many relationships that you don’t even think about when you live in an area for a long period of time. It’s those relationships that make the place you live home to you. Eventually I’ll develop those same types of relationships in Lawrenceville but it will take some time. Until I do I guess this melancholy will still strike me from time to time. I’m already homesick.

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