I was in Iowa with fellow soldiers. After training I went to the local barber shop to get tightened up a bit. When I entered the barber shop, I knew I had found my kind of place. There were three chairs for the barbers. Each woman’s first name was posted behind her chair on the mirror. And the lunch hour for each woman was posted, too. For example: Amber: Lunch (1200-1300). I liked the place immediately. It was clean. And there was lots of local memoribilia–local newspapers and flyers; photos of the town’s events; stories related to farms and pork, etc. And it was a cash-only business. My fondness continued to grow.

As I sat on the bench and waited for my turn in the owner’s chair, I perused the interior walls full of pictures and the shevles of interesting trinkets. One of the things I noticed is that the owner kept us all engaged in conversation. She spoke to the customer in her chair and even brought me in on their conversation. He was a retired Iowa State Patrolman who’d been having his hair cut here for 30 years. And I was here for my first time as a soldier, but they were both super-friendly and welcoming.

I noticed what was an important connection. No one was on gadgets. No one had phones out or was scrolling. We were talking and looking one another in the eyes. Then I saw the lesson and how it was being lived out. Next haircut time I’m in Iowa, I’m coming back. Well done, Johnston Barber Shop. Well done.