Showing posts with label Long hair hippy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Long hair hippy. Show all posts

Monday, July 6, 2020

Cecil Morris: A Forgotten, Now Remembered Man of the Past

Everyone, no matter how disrespected they may be,
deserves a final going away party.

image of a penny with 'In God We Trust' I'm listening to an audio book called "Wood Beyond the World," by William Morris, and a good book it is. Published by Kelmscott Press in 1894, it is one of the very first novels intended to join the supernatural with an imaginary world. As you can well imagine, it's written in an older rendition of the English
language, but nevertheless, it's extremely enjoyable.

When I added this book to my Reading List, I noted the author's last name, "Morris," which led me by association to a fond remembrance of a small, seemingly unimportant man named Cecil who lived, worked, and died in my hometown. He was a barber whom I spent a good bit of time with in his shop as a young boy.

As a young'in, my parents made sure my hair was cut on a regular basis. Cecil could tell you when you were in last, as well as the type of haircut you received. At some point he began to charge based on how long it was since your last visit. Heaven knows why, when other barbers would fain to do so.

As I was growing up, after graduation, I stopped going in to get my hairs cut, as I had hair down to my shoulders (and sometimes beyond). One day, on the way to work after electronics school, I stopped to get a trim. This was probably 1970 or 1971. There were his regular following sitting in the shop chatting when he broke out in a cold sweat, calling me a long-haired freak--me, the kid that use to idolize him, sitting in the shop and chitchatting with him, much like these other men!

Needless to say, I was taken aback. When we were done, he asked for $25! His haircuts at the time were $5 or $6.

Now, Only a Fleeting Memory

I didn't go back to Cecil for a long time after that. When I did, I was married with two little girls and it was probably 1985. I was a Mason Shoe's dealer as was Cecil, so we had a lot to chat about, other than catching up on the 15 years that had passed between.

I went to Cecil for some time after that, then I moved to Chicago where to took an associate editor's position with a national magazine. I did not see Cecil after that, so I have no idea whatever happened to him.

I decided to share all of this with you because anyone who had had an impact on your life should be recognized.

When I think back to Cecil and his family, who lived in the same neighborhood where I was, I remember that neither of his sons or his wife seemed to pay attention to him, be it out and about or in church. In time, they got a divorce and the sons went on their way, not looking back, or so it seems to me. I agonized for Cecil as I could tell that all of this disturbed him greatly, or at least I believed so.

Allow me to say that Cecil was so unimportant that when I ran a search in the local newspaper's obituary section using every conceivable keywords, he did not show up. In other words, it appears that no one took the time or paid the price to pay their last respects to his sordid life.

Conclusion
I pray that when I depart this place for my rightful home, that someone will care enough about me to attend to even a small paragraph in my local newspaper that celebrates my own meager life and subsequent.

Al Colombo


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Copyright©2020/Allan B. Colombo
www.alcolombo.us / blogger@tpromo.com
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