Cecil Soil Magazine Haircuts with Herb

Hair Cuts with Herb by Ed Belote Sr.

Our Haircuts With Herb column generates more favorable feedback than any regular column in Cecil Soil Magazine. Most of the feedback comes from our website www.cecilsoilmagazine.com under Reader Survey, but a lot is by word of mouth. People are always quick to comment on how much they love CSM and in a lot of instances they also report that Haircuts is their favorite page. And Herb himself will tell you that he gets many new customers, some from faraway states, who pop in and say, in effect, “I read about you in Cecil Soil Magazine and I want to find out for myself if it is all true.” These readers find out it is indeed true that Herb’s little shop welcomes everyone with cheerful and friendly conversation. … So push open that squeaky screen door — come on in, sit down and hear about an
affable gentleman named Herb Benjamin.

July/August 2007: An Interview with Herb Benjamin

I suggested to Herb, over the phone, that I would like to interview him because of reader interest, and the initial response was typical of him.

No, Ed, I don’t think anyone wants to hear about me — everyone that walks into my shop is more interesting than myself.” Finally I convinced him and dropped in at his shop during off-hours the next day.

I noticed the “Closed” sign facing out as I entered the shop and found him perched in his barber chair reading a newspaper. Herb greeted me with a warm smile and a handshake and I began the interview feeling quite relaxed and in friendly company.
Herb was one of four children — the others include two brothers and one sister — born to Otis and Agnes Benjamin from Marysville, (North East) Maryland, on January 28, 1933, which would make him 74 years old. He spent his younger years doing farm work: pitching hay, milking cows, spreading manure and was atop a tractor when he was 14 years old. At this point in the interview he commented, with a twinkle in his eye, “I still spread a little manure around, ya know.”

Drafted into the army during the Korean War, Herb had the mission of patrolling a 20-mile stretch of gas pipeline that serviced the troops. When I asked him if he saw any action he replied, “No, not really … I was not a combat soldier, I simply patrolled the pipe line.”
Pressing him further, I asked if there was an incident he remembered about his service in Korea.

“Well, I guess there is,” he replied. “There was the time a 2nd Lieutenant reported that they could not get any gas from such-and-such a valve and ordered us to check it out. Though it was late into the night, a few of us grabbed our rifles, jumped into a jeep and headed along the railroad tracks (most gas lines were installed along the tracks because they needed to be on level ground) towards that valve.

“When we arrived at the valve and walked over to it we saw what looked like fireworks dancing all around us in the dark. I didn’t know what was going on until someone yelled, ‘They’re shooting at us!’

“We immediately flew down the embankment into a muddy rice paddy and started crawling on our stomachs. I thought I found a foxhole and deliberately rolled into it. The smell was awful in that hole — I found out later it was a “honey-hole”, one dug near the rice paddy where human excrement was stored, later to be used as fertilizer. Thank goodness the one I chose was empty. A nearby U.S. Army patrol heard the shooting and came to our relief about 20 minutes later.”

“Now, you’re not spreading manure, are you, Herb?” I asked. “No,” he chuckled, “If I was, I would have told you the hole was full and that would have made a better story, but would not have been true.”

I asked Herb to tell me about his wife, Eleanore, and how and when he first met her.

“We married in 1961, the same year we opened the barbershop in North East and a few years later we opened the tackle shop right next to it. I remember that a well-intentioned businessman in town told me that when I opened the tackle shop, the barbershop would fail because I was spreading myself too thin. Wouldn’t you know it, the hippy craze came in and very few of the young folks were getting haircuts, but it was the tackle shop that pulled us through,” said Herb, laughing.

When I asked Herb when he planned to retire, he burst out laughing and said, “Never … where could I find a job doing work I love for half a day and then going hunting or fishing for the other half?

“I’ve had only two other jobs in my life; one was farming, and the other was construction.Both very honorable work, mind you, but they weren’t for me. I feel that I have found something few people have found, and that is total satisfaction with my life.
With a very earnest look on his face, he continued, “It’s the people, Ed … it’s not about money. I love this town of North East, Maryland, and the people who come and see me every day—they’re what matter.” — CSM