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I got my first haircut since Katrina today, at a little barbershop in the Seventh Ward called Unifiers Soul Brothers Hair Styling.


The artwork in front of the place was wild, and I knew I had to patronize this establishment.

The Destruction of Black Civilization

The barber was a man named Mr. Percy. He was wearing a Santa hat and listening to R&B Christmas tunes.

Mr. Percy

My neighborhood barbershop was flooded, alas. But so was Mr. Percy’s, about waist deep. He pulled down the paneling, cleaned it, dried it, painted it, and put it back up.

Mr. Percy evacuated to Austin, Texas, and said he wished he’d stayed there a while longer. He could have made some money.

“Business is slow?” I asked.

“Completely dead!”

He was confident that people will return in time, but he moved back too soon. After Hurricane Betsy (40 years ago) he had so much business that people had to take numbers.

I got a pretty good haircut. He shaved around my ears with a straight razor.

But I miss my old barber, Lou. Will I ever see him again?

Published inBodyKatrinaNew Orleans

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