Tom the Barber
©2013
by LeeZard
NOTE: I’ve written before about growing up in
Laurelton, NY (http://leezardonlife.blogspot.com/2008/12/corner.html)
but the piece was about a specific spot in Laurelton and the high school to
which we all went. This story is about one man, a small almost anonymous man,
and the large impact he had on us all.
---
Sometimes
the mind wanders. Recently mine was wandering down memory lane, back to the
section of South Queens in New York City where I grew up. My mind takes me
there often. It’s called Laurelton and to those who grew up there it was a
magical place. I can’t tell you why but I do know that many of the friendships
born there endure to this day.
Located
in the southeast corner of Queens, Laurelton was, and still is, a working
middle-class area with mostly small well-kept single-family homes and a strong
sense of community. Maybe that was the source of the magic; we were closely
knit and we all cared about the place and its people. Whenever I go back to
visit New York I always drive through the old neighborhood and I know for a
fact many of my contemporaries do the same.
When
I was growing up in the 1950s-60s Laurelton was predominantly White, evenly
mixed with Jewish, Catholic and Protestant families. The kids never noticed who
was what and we never cared. We played softball in concrete-covered
schoolyards, stickball, punch ball, handball, “potsy (hopscotch)” and endless
pick-up games of sandlot baseball and football. In the summers we migrated to Beach
34th and 35th Streets in Rockaway and recreated the
neighborhood by bunching 10, 20 or more towels and blankets together in the
warm white sand. |
| I Played Infinity Number of Softball Games Here |
Regrettably,
there was an ugly time in Laurelton shortly after my generation graduated high
school and began moving away to colleges and eventual adulthood. Our parents
were part of the post-World War II migration to “the suburbs” in the late 40s
and early 50s. In the 1970s Black families began to follow that same suburban
trail and many discovered the magic of Laurelton. I am not proud of our
parents’ response and the subsequent White Flight that ensued.
I
am pleased to report, however, that the new and more diverse population of
Laurelton, after some rough times with higher crime and drug trafficking,
endured and restored the neighborhoods to their neat and well-kept middle-class
status.
Laurelton
is bisected north and south by the large east-west commercial thoroughfare of
Merrick Road (as we called it; it is officially Merrick Boulevard). Not only
did we do most of our commerce there, it was also the nexus of our young
after-school social lives. Of course there was The Corner, where we usually
gathered before dispersing to the next social “event.”
 |
| The Itch |
Two
doors north of Merrick, on 226th Street, was Tom’s Barber Shop. Just
three chairs and, on Saturdays a shoeshine boy (a first job for many of us),
Tom’s was one of the most popular places in town. There was another barber shop
in Laurelton but just about everyone I knew had their hair cut at Tom’s and the
main reason was Tom himself.
Tom
Giaccone didn’t live in Laurelton but it didn’t matter; he was definitely one
of us. Standing only about 5’7” and weighing no more than 140 pounds, he still
looms large in my boyhood memories.
His
chair was the one closest to the big window that viewed 226th
Street. If you were in Tom’s chair for a haircut you sat patiently while he
stopped every few snips to wave with his scissor-holding hand to someone either
driving by or stopped at the traffic light. Tom seemed to know everyone in town
and, for my money he was one of the most beloved of all Laureltonians.
It
wasn’t only the endless supply of Bazooka Bubblegum he kept in the cabinet
under the wall-length mirror (“Grab as many as ya want, Lee” was my favorite
post-haircut sentence!). Nor was it the perpetual, deeply sincere smile that
made his eyes crinkle with joy. What made Tom so special and what made Tom such
an important part of Laurelton was what he did besides cutting hair. Tom more
than loved Laurelton, he gave back so much more than he took. He cared and
Laurelton loved him for it.
In
the spring and early summer months, there was a little blackboard leaning in
the window of Tom’s shop. It listed the changing weekly standings of the
American Veterans Committee Teen Softball League and that week’s MVP. I’m
certain Tom also contributed as a league sponsor. I’m not as certain, but always
suspected, that Tom often contributed to some troubled kid’s wallet if he
deemed it a worthy effort.
 |
| Not Ours But About the Same Year/Model |
Tom’s
greatest and most lasting contribution was The Laurelton Volunteer
Ambulance Corps. The nearest hospital was in Jamaica, about 20-minutes away if
traffic was light and you got lucky with red lights. Tom recognized the need
and spearheaded the effort to form the corps. He helped raise the funds that
purchased an older used Cadillac ambulance. Painted bright orange and blue, it
became the most-recognized and appreciated vehicle in town. He never took
credit, was never publicly recognized and probably didn’t care. That was Tom.
For
many years after, when I visited, I would always stop by Tom’s for a big hello
and a bigger hug (and some Bazooka Bubblegum). Finally, one year, his long-time
chair number two (Rocco) was stationed at Tom’s chair. He’d retired. I never
saw Tom after that but I will never forget him.
---
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