Back when I was a kid, we had two barbershops in Oak Grove. One was located in an old wood frame building between the bank and the Oddfellows building. The bank bought the building, tore it down and expanded to the south.

Morton Youree and his father George were the barbers. Morton’s wife Arlie May ran a beauty shop upstairs. Morton was the first person from Oak Grove drafted in World War II. He fought in the South Pacific, contracted Malaria, also had asthma and eventually had to move to Arizona.

The other barbershop was located in the south one-third of the drug store that burned down. It was operated by John Young. When the drugstore expanded, John moved his shop to an addition he built onto his home on South Broadway. His sons John and Elmer were both barbers with their dad for a period of time before pursuing other careers.

Both of these shops did an excellent job cutting hair. After they closed down, I always had a problem with barbers cutting my hair. A few years ago I needed a haircut bad and every time I drove past my barber there were a half a dozen people waiting for a haircut. I had an appointment in southern Iowa with the owner of several mobile home parks.

On the way to the meeting I went through the town of Clarence, Missouri and spotted a barbershop with no one in the chair. I told the barber I wanted a medium trim and after using the electric clipper on me for about three minutes he spun me around so I could see the mirror and said, “How’s that?” I wanted to say “Just Fine, if you can put an inch of hair back on my head.” But I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to come out looking like Yule Brenner.

I went down the road, stopped at a John Deere dealership and bought a cap. They always say the difference between a good haircut and a bad one is three days. In this case, it was about six weeks.

Now I know why there was no one in the chair waiting for a haircut.