Nash Girls: Frank Stayed Open

Kenosha, Wisconsin — October 1918
Frank had seen some difficult times in his years operating a barbershop in Kenosha, but October of 1918 was becoming something he had never experienced before.
The war in Europe was still going on. Food and coal were expensive, families were worrying about their sons overseas, and now something else was spreading across Wisconsin.
Influenza.
People were calling it the Spanish flu.
And it was killing people.
The newspapers were filled with reports of illness and death. Schools were being closed. Churches were being told to suspend services. Theaters and other public gathering places were being shut down.
There were rumors that factories might be next.
And that was what worried Frank more than anything.
He wasn’t particularly concerned about himself financially. He had several other business interests, including property outside Kenosha and his growing involvement in liquor production. Even if the barbershop closed temporarily, he had resources to fall back on.
But Vivian and Eddie were another matter.
They depended on the money they earned cutting hair.
And if the Nash factory across the street shut down, thousands of workers could suddenly find themselves without wages.
Frank wasn’t convinced the company would do much to help them.
A WORRIED BARBER
It was shortly after six o’clock when Frank arrived at the shop to prepare for the evening business.
Vivian was already at her middle chair, arranging her scissors, combs, and hand-operated clippers.
Eddie was cleaning his station.
Frank removed his coat and placed a newspaper on the counter.
“Well, they’re closing more places.”
Vivian looked over.
“What now?”
“Schools. Churches. Theaters. Anything where people gather.”
Eddie shook his head.
“They can’t close everything.”
“That’s what worries me,” Frank answered.
He sat down in his barber chair.
Vivian noticed his expression.
“What’s wrong, Frank?”
“I’m wondering how long before they decide to close us.”
Eddie stopped cleaning.
“You think they’d shut down barbershops?”
“I don’t know. But if they’re worried about people getting sick from being around each other, what do you think they’re going to say about three barbers standing right next to customers all evening?”
Vivian considered that.
“Well, we’re certainly closer to our customers than somebody sitting in a theater.”
“Exactly.”
Eddie looked concerned.
“What would we do?”
Frank glanced toward him.
“That’s what I’ve been thinking about.”
Vivian folded her arms.
“Frank, you’ve got other things going on. You’d be all right.”
“I know I’d be all right.”
“Then what’s worrying you?”
Frank looked directly at her.
“You and Eddie.”
Neither answered immediately.
Frank continued.
“If they close this place, you two don’t earn anything. You can’t cut hair if nobody’s allowed through the door.”
Eddie leaned against his chair.
“I’ve got a little money saved.”
“How long would that last?”
Eddie shrugged.
“A while.”
“And then what?”
Eddie had no answer.
Vivian looked at Frank.
“We’ll manage.”
Frank shook his head.
“I don’t like the idea of either of you having to manage without wages.”
THE FACTORY ACROSS THE STREET
Frank stood and walked toward the front window.
Across the street, the Nash factory was still operating.
Workers were coming and going, just as they had for years.
Frank watched them for a moment.
“There’s something else bothering me.”
Vivian joined him.
“What?”
“Those people over there.”
“The factory workers?”
“Yes.”
Frank pointed toward the building.
“If they close Nash, what happens to all those workers?”
Vivian shrugged.
“I suppose they’d have to wait until it reopened.”
“Without getting paid.”
“Probably.”
Frank shook his head.
“And do you think Nash is going to reach into its pockets and pay everybody while they’re sitting at home?”
Vivian didn’t answer.
“I don’t,” Frank continued. “I don’t believe that company would do the right thing by those workers if it cost them a pile of money.”
Eddie looked over.
“They might have to close if enough people get sick.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Frank returned to his chair.
“The war’s already made everything expensive. People are having trouble buying coal and groceries. Now imagine telling them they can’t work.”
Vivian looked out the window again.
“Well, I don’t believe they’re going to close Nash.”
Frank looked up.
“Why?”
“Because we’re at war, Frank.”
“And?”
“Because the country needs what those factories are making. They need trucks, engines, machinery, and all sorts of things to keep everything going.”
She gestured toward the factory.
“They’re not going to shut down every important factory in Wisconsin and tell everybody to stay home.”
Eddie nodded.
“She’s probably right.”
Frank considered it.
“I hope she is.”
Vivian returned to her station.
“And if Nash stays open, those women are going to keep coming here.”
Frank smiled faintly.
“Provided we’re allowed to stay open ourselves.”
THE EVENING CROWD ARRIVES
At seven o’clock, the first group of women arrived from Nash.
Mabel, Agnes, Florence, Ruth, and Dorothy came through the door together.
All five wore hats.
And underneath those hats, not one of them had enough hair to comb.
Over the past several months, the fashion for closely clipped hair had developed into something even more unusual among Frank’s regular female customers.
Many had begun having their heads shaved completely smooth with a straight razor.
It wasn’t something common throughout Kenosha, but inside Frank’s Barbershop, it had become increasingly ordinary.
Some women came in every week.
Others returned every three or four days.
A few had started appearing every other day, determined to keep their scalps perfectly smooth.
Mabel removed her hat.
“Evening, Frank.”
“Evening, ladies.”
She rubbed her head.
“Need another shave.”
Frank looked at her.
“Didn’t Vivian shave you three days ago?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re back already?”
“Feel it.”
Frank laughed.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Mabel ran her hand against the grain of the short stubble.
“I can feel it growing back.”
Vivian smiled.
“Well, that’s generally what hair does.”
Dorothy removed her hat.
“Mine needs doing, too.”
Agnes laughed.
“At this rate, we’re going to be spending more money keeping our heads shaved than we ever spent on hairpins.”
Frank shook his head.
“You ladies have certainly changed this business.”
FRANK MAKES A DECISION
Mabel approached Frank’s chair.
“All right, Frank. I’m first.”
Frank hesitated.
“Actually, Mabel, I want to talk to you about that.”
She looked surprised.
“About what?”
“These head shaves.”
“What about them?”
Frank glanced toward Vivian and Eddie.
“I’ve been thinking about this influenza business.”
Mabel frowned.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid to cut my hair.”
“Not cut it. Shave it.”
“What’s the difference?”
Frank gestured toward his razor.
“When I’m shaving somebody’s entire head, I’ve got to work very close to them for quite a while. Hot towels, lather, razor work, cleaning up around the ears. And sometimes I have to deal with little nicks.”
Mabel folded her arms.
“Frank, you shave men’s faces all day.”
“I know. And I’m not particularly happy about that right now, either.”
Vivian looked interested.
“What are you thinking?”
Frank took a breath.
“Until we know what’s happening with this influenza, I don’t want to do any more complete head shaves myself.”
Mabel stared.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“Frank, half the women coming in here want their heads shaved.”
“I know.”
“And some of us are coming in every couple of days.”
“I know that, too.”
Frank looked toward Vivian.
“I’m not telling you what you have to do at your chair. But I’m going to concentrate on clipper cuts for the time being.”
Vivian nodded slowly.
“That’s your decision.”
Eddie spoke up.
“I don’t mind doing the shaves.”
Frank turned.
“Just be careful. Clean everything properly. Don’t rush. And if somebody comes in looking sick, I don’t want them sitting in one of these chairs.”
Mabel shook her head.
“Well, I suppose Vivian gets my business tonight.”
Vivian smiled.
“Come on over.”
THE HEAD SHAVES CONTINUE
Mabel settled into Vivian’s middle chair.
Vivian fastened a clean white cape around her neck.
“How long has it been?”
“Three days.”
Vivian examined her scalp.
“There’s hardly anything there.”
“There’s enough.”
Vivian laughed.
“You really can’t stand having any hair at all anymore, can you?”
“Nope.”
Vivian prepared a warm towel.
Meanwhile, Dorothy took Eddie’s chair.
She also wanted a complete head shave.
Eddie looked at her closely.
“Didn’t I shave you Monday?”
“Yes.”
“And it’s Thursday.”
“Very good, Eddie. You know your days of the week.”
The women laughed.
Eddie shook his head.
“All right, all right.”
He began preparing his razor.
Frank took Agnes in his chair.
Unlike the others, Agnes had allowed her hair to grow for nearly two weeks.
There was enough stubble that Frank could use his hand clippers to shorten it.
“Just clip it close,” Agnes told him.
“No razor?”
“No razor. I can wait.”
Frank smiled.
“You’re my favorite customer tonight.”
Agnes laughed.
“Don’t let the others hear you.”
Frank began working the hand-operated clippers across her head.
Click-click-click-click.
Short clippings fell onto the cape.
Across the room, Vivian removed the warm towel from Mabel’s scalp and began applying shaving lather.
Mabel watched herself in the mirror.
“Imagine telling somebody ten years ago that we’d all be sitting in a barbershop getting our heads shaved.”
Vivian smiled.
“They’d probably think you were crazy.”
“They’d probably think we were crazy for working at Nash, too.”
“That’s true.”
Vivian opened her straight razor and began shaving Mabel’s scalp.
THE CONVERSATION TURNS SERIOUS
Ruth sat in the waiting area, reading a newspaper.
She looked up.
“Did you hear they’re closing the schools?”
Florence nodded.
“My sister’s children are home.”
“And the churches.”
“And the theaters,” Dorothy added from Eddie’s chair.
Mabel looked toward Frank.
“What happens if they close the factory?”
Frank continued clipping Agnes’s hair.
“That’s what we’ve been talking about.”
Ruth lowered the newspaper.
“Somebody said they might shut Nash down.”
Florence looked alarmed.
“Where’d you hear that?”
“At work.”
“Who said it?”
“One of the women in my department.”
Agnes shook her head.
“People are saying all sorts of things.”
Mabel looked toward Vivian.
“What do you think?”
Vivian paused her razor work and looked at the women.
“I think everybody needs to stop frightening themselves with rumors.”
Ruth frowned.
“But they’re closing everything.”
“No, they’re not closing everything,” Vivian answered.
“They’re closing schools, churches, theaters, and places where people gather for entertainment. That’s serious, and there’s a reason they’re doing it.”
She gestured toward the factory.
“But we’re at war. The country needs these factories operating. They’re not going to shut all of you down if they can possibly avoid it.”
Florence nodded.
“That’s what I keep telling people.”
Vivian continued.
“Those factories are important. People need the things they’re producing. And the workers need their wages.”
Frank looked over.
“I hope you’re right.”
Vivian smiled.
“I think I am.”
THE FEAR OF LOSING EVERYTHING
Ruth folded her newspaper.
“My husband was laid off once before. We nearly lost our house.”
Nobody laughed.
She continued.
“If Nash closes, I don’t know what we’re going to do.”
Mabel looked at her.
“How much have you got saved?”
“Not enough.”
Agnes nodded.
“That’s most of us.”
Frank stopped clipping for a moment.
“That’s what bothers me.”
Ruth looked toward him.
“What?”
“People are being told to conserve everything. Food, coal, money. Then they’re being told to stay away from places where they might get sick.”
He shook his head.
“And if they lose their jobs, how are they supposed to buy food or coal in the first place?”
Florence sighed.
“Nobody seems to have an answer.”
Frank looked toward the factory through the front window.
“I don’t believe Nash is going to pay everybody to sit at home.”
Ruth shook her head.
“Neither do I.”
“And if they close this shop,” Frank continued, “Vivian and Eddie don’t earn anything, either.”
Eddie looked up from his chair.
“Frank’s been worrying about that all evening.”
Mabel looked toward Frank.
“You’d be all right, though, wouldn’t you?”
Frank nodded.
“I’ve got other things going on. I’d manage.”
“Then why are you so worried?”
Frank gestured toward Vivian and Eddie.
“Because they depend on this place. I don’t want to see either one of them go without money.”
Vivian looked at him.
“Frank, we appreciate that.”
He shrugged.
“Well, it’s the truth.”
A DIFFERENT KIND OF BARBERSHOP
By eight-thirty, the shop was busy.
Nearly every woman who came through the door had either a closely clipped head or a completely shaved scalp.
Some were there for fresh haircuts.
Others wanted their smooth heads touched up.
One woman had visited only two days earlier and complained that she could already feel stubble.
Vivian laughed when she examined her.
“There’s hardly anything to shave.”
“There’s enough that I can feel it against my pillow.”
Eddie shook his head.
“You women are getting particular.”
The customer smiled.
“We’re paying for it.”
Frank continued doing clipper cuts.
Click-click-click-click.
The hand clippers had become the most frequently used tools in his shop.
Where he once spent much of his time cutting men’s hair with scissors and trimming around the ears, he now spent his evenings clipping women’s hair down to almost nothing.
It was an extraordinary change.
And even with the influenza epidemic hanging over Kenosha, the customers kept coming.
There was less laughter than usual.
The newspapers were frightening.
Everybody knew somebody who was sick.
But the women were still working.
And Frank’s Barbershop was still open.
For the moment, that was enough.
A CUSTOMER WHO ISN’T FEELING WELL
Shortly after nine, a woman entered the shop wearing a heavy coat.
She removed her hat, revealing a head that had been shaved several days earlier.
“Evening, Frank.”
“Evening, Helen.”
She coughed.
Frank looked up.
“You all right?”
Helen nodded.
“Just a little cough.”
She coughed again.
Vivian stopped working.
Frank examined her.
“You look pale.”
“I’m tired. Been working all day.”
Frank put down his clippers.
“Helen, I don’t think you ought to be here tonight.”
She looked surprised.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re coughing, and there’s influenza going around.”
“It’s probably nothing.”
“Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t.”
Helen looked toward the chairs.
“I just wanted my head shaved again.”
Frank shook his head.
“Not tonight.”
She frowned.
“Frank, I came all the way over here.”
“I understand. But I don’t want you sitting in one of these chairs if you’re getting sick.”
Vivian nodded.
“He’s right, Helen. You ought to go home and rest.”
Helen sighed.
“Well, I suppose.”
Frank walked toward the door.
“And if you’re feeling worse tomorrow, get somebody to look at you. Don’t just keep going to work sick.”
Helen put her hat back on.
“All right, Frank.”
After she left, the shop grew quiet.
Mabel looked toward the door.
“That’s the trouble. Nobody knows who’s got it.”
Frank nodded.
“Exactly.”
THE FACTORY KEEPS RUNNING
As the evening continued, more women arrived from Nash.
They brought news that the factory was still operating and that nobody had been told to stop reporting for work.
Ruth looked relieved.
“Well, that’s something.”
Florence nodded.
“They need us.”
Vivian smiled.
“That’s what I’ve been saying.”
Frank looked toward her.
“You were pretty confident about that.”
“I still am.”
“Well, I hope you keep being right.”
Vivian continued cleaning her razor.
“Frank, you worry too much.”
He laughed.
“Somebody has to.”
But he was beginning to feel better.
The factory remained open.
His barbershop remained open.
Vivian and Eddie were earning money.
And the women who depended on Nash for their wages were still able to work.
With so many other parts of ordinary life being interrupted, that mattered enormously.
CLOSING TIME
At ten o’clock, the last customer left.
Eddie began sweeping the floor.
Vivian cleaned her razors and clippers.
Frank sat in his chair, looking at the newspaper he had brought in earlier.
The headlines were still frightening.
Influenza was spreading.
People were dying.
Schools, churches, theaters, and other gathering places were closed.
Nobody knew exactly when ordinary life would return.
Vivian looked toward Frank.
“You seem a little more relaxed.”
Frank nodded.
“A little.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re still open.”
Vivian smiled.
“And Nash is still running.”
“That’s the important part.”
Eddie leaned on his broom.
“You think we’ll have to close eventually?”
Frank looked at him.
“I don’t know, Eddie. Nobody knows.”
He folded the newspaper.
“But I hope not.”
Vivian sat down in her chair.
“Well, at least everybody made some money tonight.”
Frank nodded.
“That’s what matters.”
He looked toward the three barber chairs.
“I can survive a shutdown. I’ve got other business interests. But I don’t want to see either of you out of work.”
Eddie smiled.
“We appreciate it, Frank.”
Frank continued.
“And those women across the street have families depending on them. I don’t want to see them lose their wages, either.”
Vivian nodded.
“Neither do I.”
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Eddie looked down at the floor.
“You know something?”
Frank looked up.
“What?”
“I’ve swept up less hair tonight than I used to sweep up after one customer.”
Vivian laughed.
“That’s because half our customers don’t have any hair left.”
Frank smiled.
“And the other half only have enough to keep these clippers busy.”
Eddie shook his head.
“I never thought I’d see so many women getting their heads shaved.”
Vivian picked up her straight razor.
“And some of them are coming back every other day.”
Frank laughed.
“Well, at least somebody’s keeping the business going.”
He stood and walked toward the front window.
Across the street, the Nash factory was quiet between shifts, but the lights still burned.
Tomorrow, the workers would return.
And tomorrow evening, if the health authorities allowed it, Frank’s Barbershop would open its doors again.
The influenza epidemic had already taken away many things people once took for granted.
Children couldn’t attend school.
Families couldn’t gather for church services.
Theaters were dark.
Public meetings had been canceled.
People were frightened of becoming sick, and many were frightened of losing their livelihoods.
But the factory was still operating.
And so was the barbershop.
Frank turned away from the window.
“All right, everybody. Let’s go home.”
Vivian reached for her coat.
“See you tomorrow, Frank.”
“Tomorrow.”
Eddie switched off the lights over his chair.
Frank took one last look around the shop.
He had built this business through years of hard work, and he was proud of it.
But as he locked the front door that October night, he wasn’t thinking about how much money he had made.
He was thinking about Vivian.
He was thinking about Eddie.
And he was thinking about the thousands of workers across the street who needed their paychecks just as badly.
For now, they could all continue earning a living.
And during the terrible influenza epidemic of 1918, that was something worth being thankful for.

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