I learned today that my barber of 18 years, Hector Rodriguez, passed away from stomach cancer on April 6. When I called today to check up on his status, his wife broke the news. I'm heartbroken because Hector was more than a barber, he was a friend that I enjoyed seeing every 4 weeks. I'd grab some lunch, maybe stop by the car wash, then make my last stop at Hector's in-home barber shop for a haircut.
I first met Hector in 2002 when I was working at HP in Palo Alto. I was tired to getting my hair cut at one of those chain places and I thought I'd go back to a real, old-fashioned barber shop, the kind I went to as a kid. I found one in nearby Los Altos called The Barber Stylist, and one day I cut my work day short and dropped in for a haircut. There must have been eight barbers working, and I just went with which ever barber was up next. I think I did that during my first two visits, but I noticed this man cutting hair in the front window. Everyone seeing him had an appointment. About every 10 minutes the phone would ring, one of the barbers would pick it up, and invariably say, "Hector, it's for you!". And Hector would excuse himself, walk over to the pay phone (the owner was too cheap to put in a real phone!), and pencil that person in to his appointment book. I thought, "THAT'S the guy I want cutting my hair" and starting with my third haircut, I started making appointments with Hector.
Hector cut my hair at The Barber Stylist from 2002 until 2013. Around 2013, Hector started reducing his hours at the barber shop but took on more haircuts in his home-based shop in San Jose. I started going to his home because it was closer to my home and he charged less there, too. And while I enjoyed the ambiance of the real barber shop with all the other barbers and the banter back and forth and the customers coming and going, Hector's home shop was a good substitute and more conducive to actually talking and catching up on the news of our lives.
Hector once told me that as a barber he didn't sell haircuts, he sold time. At his home barber shop, he would spend almost an hour with each customer, regardless of how much hair was on their head and how much or how little needed to be trimmed. It was all about the conversation with Hector. But conversation with Hector was never even, never 50/50...Hector always had something to say! Always talking about his wife and what is sons and grandkids were doing (he adored all of them), telling me about his trip to the county fair with his wife, their trip to visit friends in Las Vegas, even mundane things like renovation projects around his home and yard. He was always busy doing something. He would recount stories from his childhood growing up in San Jose...he was still friends with people he knew from elementary school. Then inevitably the conversation would turn to me, and I would share what I had been up to during the past month, which barbecue contest I had been to, where my wife and I were heading off to on vacation, and what home improvement project I had just completed. He would ask about my wife and my parents. Sometimes I brought him some barbecue I'd made. At one point he bought a BGE and cooked on it for a while, but in the end I think it cooked up more cobwebs than food.
Hector used to get calls from some of his longtime older customers asking about haircuts. Maybe they were recuperating at home after surgery or some illness. Hector would go to their house and cut their hair and wouldn't charge a dime more for his time or trouble. What a good man.
Sometime back in 2017, Hector wasn't feeling well and his doctors ran him through a battery of tests but they were inconclusive. They finally figured out he had stomach cancer. He had surgery then went through a grueling course of chemo followed by radiation. He came out the other side thinner, weaker, but in good spirits and still with a full head of hair! His doctors and modern medicine had saved his life and he was happy and grateful for that. He felt like he was a lucky and blessed man.
During that time, I only missed one haircut with Hector. Even while doing chemo and radiation, he felt good enough to cut hair. I think it was therapeutic for him, to have something to do, to be useful to others, and to have those interactions with people who were more like friends than customers.
My last haircut with Hector, the last time I saw him, was on September 6, 2019. No indication at that time that anything was wrong. But the next time I called to schedule an appointment, I learned from his wife that he was back in the hospital, that his cancer had come back. I called one more time before Christmas and again perhaps in February, but each time his wife said he was unavailable, maybe napping. I decided I would stop calling for a longer period of time, just let them deal with his situation. But today I passed by their house while out running an errand, and when I got home I called and his wife answered the phone. She greeted me, I said I was calling to check-up on Hector, and with a cracking voice and through her tears she told me that Hector had passed away. Due to COVID-19 protocols, even though he didn't have the virus, the hospital was locked down and his family could not visit him, only phone calls were possible. After making a big fuss, family was eventually allowed a short visit with him in-person, but at that point he had slipped into a coma. He died on April 6 just a month before his 77th birthday and two months before his 56th wedding anniversary.
I miss Hector. I miss our talks. I miss how he always cut my sideburns just a little bit uneven, something I'd have to correct when I got home. I miss him handing me the mirror at the end of the haircut and me taking a look and making a silly comment like, "Well, you did the best you could with what I gave you to work with!" He was a good sport and always laughed.
Rest in peace, Hector Rodriguez. You were a good man. You lived a good life. You lived the American Dream. It was a privilege knowing you.
Now...it's time for some tears.
I first met Hector in 2002 when I was working at HP in Palo Alto. I was tired to getting my hair cut at one of those chain places and I thought I'd go back to a real, old-fashioned barber shop, the kind I went to as a kid. I found one in nearby Los Altos called The Barber Stylist, and one day I cut my work day short and dropped in for a haircut. There must have been eight barbers working, and I just went with which ever barber was up next. I think I did that during my first two visits, but I noticed this man cutting hair in the front window. Everyone seeing him had an appointment. About every 10 minutes the phone would ring, one of the barbers would pick it up, and invariably say, "Hector, it's for you!". And Hector would excuse himself, walk over to the pay phone (the owner was too cheap to put in a real phone!), and pencil that person in to his appointment book. I thought, "THAT'S the guy I want cutting my hair" and starting with my third haircut, I started making appointments with Hector.
Hector cut my hair at The Barber Stylist from 2002 until 2013. Around 2013, Hector started reducing his hours at the barber shop but took on more haircuts in his home-based shop in San Jose. I started going to his home because it was closer to my home and he charged less there, too. And while I enjoyed the ambiance of the real barber shop with all the other barbers and the banter back and forth and the customers coming and going, Hector's home shop was a good substitute and more conducive to actually talking and catching up on the news of our lives.
Hector once told me that as a barber he didn't sell haircuts, he sold time. At his home barber shop, he would spend almost an hour with each customer, regardless of how much hair was on their head and how much or how little needed to be trimmed. It was all about the conversation with Hector. But conversation with Hector was never even, never 50/50...Hector always had something to say! Always talking about his wife and what is sons and grandkids were doing (he adored all of them), telling me about his trip to the county fair with his wife, their trip to visit friends in Las Vegas, even mundane things like renovation projects around his home and yard. He was always busy doing something. He would recount stories from his childhood growing up in San Jose...he was still friends with people he knew from elementary school. Then inevitably the conversation would turn to me, and I would share what I had been up to during the past month, which barbecue contest I had been to, where my wife and I were heading off to on vacation, and what home improvement project I had just completed. He would ask about my wife and my parents. Sometimes I brought him some barbecue I'd made. At one point he bought a BGE and cooked on it for a while, but in the end I think it cooked up more cobwebs than food.
Hector used to get calls from some of his longtime older customers asking about haircuts. Maybe they were recuperating at home after surgery or some illness. Hector would go to their house and cut their hair and wouldn't charge a dime more for his time or trouble. What a good man.
Sometime back in 2017, Hector wasn't feeling well and his doctors ran him through a battery of tests but they were inconclusive. They finally figured out he had stomach cancer. He had surgery then went through a grueling course of chemo followed by radiation. He came out the other side thinner, weaker, but in good spirits and still with a full head of hair! His doctors and modern medicine had saved his life and he was happy and grateful for that. He felt like he was a lucky and blessed man.
During that time, I only missed one haircut with Hector. Even while doing chemo and radiation, he felt good enough to cut hair. I think it was therapeutic for him, to have something to do, to be useful to others, and to have those interactions with people who were more like friends than customers.
My last haircut with Hector, the last time I saw him, was on September 6, 2019. No indication at that time that anything was wrong. But the next time I called to schedule an appointment, I learned from his wife that he was back in the hospital, that his cancer had come back. I called one more time before Christmas and again perhaps in February, but each time his wife said he was unavailable, maybe napping. I decided I would stop calling for a longer period of time, just let them deal with his situation. But today I passed by their house while out running an errand, and when I got home I called and his wife answered the phone. She greeted me, I said I was calling to check-up on Hector, and with a cracking voice and through her tears she told me that Hector had passed away. Due to COVID-19 protocols, even though he didn't have the virus, the hospital was locked down and his family could not visit him, only phone calls were possible. After making a big fuss, family was eventually allowed a short visit with him in-person, but at that point he had slipped into a coma. He died on April 6 just a month before his 77th birthday and two months before his 56th wedding anniversary.
I miss Hector. I miss our talks. I miss how he always cut my sideburns just a little bit uneven, something I'd have to correct when I got home. I miss him handing me the mirror at the end of the haircut and me taking a look and making a silly comment like, "Well, you did the best you could with what I gave you to work with!" He was a good sport and always laughed.
Rest in peace, Hector Rodriguez. You were a good man. You lived a good life. You lived the American Dream. It was a privilege knowing you.
Now...it's time for some tears.
