Cecil Soil Magazine Haircuts with Herb

Hair Cuts with Herb by Ed Belote Sr.

Herb Benjamin has been cutting hair in the town of North East, Maryland for more than forty-five years. His barbershop
(just off the side of his tackle shop) has become a landmark, and all who visit appreciate Herb’s affable, witty personality.
Getting a cut at Herb’s is like stepping back in time; almost like being in Mayberry — the friendship and laughter beckon you
to come back for more. Push open that squeaky screen door — come on in and listen...

March/April 2008: A Tribute to Frank the Barber

Early this year, I learned that my longtime barber, Frank Terranova, was ill and would be closing his shop. The reaction of many in the modern X, Y or Z generation would be, “So what?” But as a 30-year member of Frank’s select band of customers, I was shocked to hear this news.

That’s because I always considered Frank much more than a barber. He was a friend, a confidant, and a father confessor with a steady hand on a very sharp razor.

Frank Terranova, 72, in his Elsmere Barber Shop, where he cut hair for more than 50 years.

Frank the barber held court at the same shop in Elsmere, Del., for more than 50 years. Each visit was a delight, providing a healthy dose of common sense, street-corner philosophy, clever humor and tips on which slot machines and horses were hot during the racing season at Delaware Park.

In many of my conversations with Frank, he mentioned that his role went far beyond that of snipping hair. He pointed around the room to mementos and souvenirs representing decades of people who had come through his door.

He estimated he’d given the “first cut” to thousands of kids, and he was proud to have been around long enough to get to work on several generations of the same family. He shared stories with and provided free advice to customers and friends who drove to his place from their homes in four surrounding states.

And for what?

To enjoy that special sense of friendship and familiarity that takes years to develop.

To be able to walk into a comfortable setting and pick up the same dog-eared magazines that lay on the shop’s corner table for years.

To see six of the eight worn chairs along the walls filled with regulars, who smiled as they shouted out, ”You’re next, we’re just hangin’ out!” or ”We’re just Frank’s protection squad!”

To hear the same old conversations about the daily number that “almost came out,” the horse that “almost came in” and news that a popular customer “died last week.”

But most of all, to climb into the big, red-leather chair, not say a word, and relax with the knowledge that Frank knew how you wanted your hair cut.

Frank once told me there was a time when most men would only go to three or four barbers in their lifetime. I found that to be true, having gone to his shop half my life. “Once you find a barbershop that seems to fit your needs,” he said, “you won’t go anywhere else.”

Back in 1997, I wrote a book called Disappearing Delmarva. I needed a chapter on a famous local barber, and, of course, those pages belonged to Frank Terranova. He started barbering in 1949, when he was 13 and had to stand on a wooden box to reach the hair of his first customers. Two years ago, he marked 56 years on the job, 50 of them at the same location—his Elsmere Barbershop.

In a newspaper article marking his half-century at one location, he said his greatest achievement was “Doing what I am doing now.” It’s obvious he liked his job. But Frank, it seems, was also somewhat of a prophet. More than 10 years ago he knew what the future had in store for him and his colleagues.

In 1996, he told me, “I guess when all the barbers are gone, you’ll have to get your hair cut in beauty shops. There won’t be any barbers left unless they charge $20 to $25 for a haircut. It’s hard to be a barber. It’s like an art, and it’s hard on your feet. But someday you have to go. Someday it’s going to happen.”

And selfishly, I always replied, “Just hold on, Frank. Keep at your art just a little while longer.”

But no one beats Father Time. Everything comes to an end, and Frank had a good 59-year run in his single-chair shop.

On the recommendation of Cecil Soil Magazine publisher, Ed Belote Sr., I think I’ll eventually head over to Herb’s, in North East. After reading Ed’s “Haircuts with Herb” column in each issue of the magazine, I get the impression Herb’s is a cozy place, with a good assortment of characters (a men’s only hangout), where you can settle in, leaf through some old magazines, converse with the regulars and get a decent cut at a reasonable price.

But each time I settle in the chair and close my eyes, and the scissors start to snap, I’ll think fondly of my longtime barber and special friend, Frank Terranova. —CSM