Haircuts with Herb by Ed Belote Sr.

Herb Benjamin has been cutting hair in the town of North East, Maryland for more than forty-five years. His barbershop (just off the side of his tackle shop) has become a landmark, and all who visit appreciate Herb’s affable, witty personality. Getting a cut at Herb’s is like stepping back in time; almost like being in Mayberry — the friendship and laughter beckon you to come back for more. Push open that squeaky screen door — come on in and listen...

November/December 2009:
Obama Ears and the Neglected Hero

Mr. George Rhudy

Turning on my tape-recorder—or should I say, my digital recorder—I asked the room what today’s date was. Someone shouted, “9-9-9,” and another yelled out, “Ya oughta play that number,” and still a third person added, “And you should box it.” I wondered how boxing it would give it any particular advantage.

Mr. George Rhudy, 84, a North East resident retired from Conrail after 35 years, was in the chair-of-honor. A conversation about bushwhacking ducks on the North East River was already in progress. Mr. Rhudy told story after story of his days hunting and fishing on the Northeast River. “You could count the ducks I killed on one hand … never was very good at bushwhackin’,” Mr. Rhudy laughed.

I sat totally engrossed as Herb and Mr. Rhudy recounted memories of hunting and fishing on the river back in the ‘50s. Old names like Virgil Gilbert, Charlie McCauley, and Jack Logan intertwined in their stories and made me feel like an outsider. The other old boys in the shop remembered those times and characters, laughed out loud, and enjoyed themselves as exclusive members of a long forgotten era. I felt humbled to be in their company.

Subject matter in Herb’s shop can take a turn on a dime and all it takes is a bit of a pause in the conversation and someone else gets a chance to slip in their story. “Yup, according to my genealogy studies I’m related by blood to President Obama,” quipped 73-year-old Henry “Jake” Jacobs, a North East wood carver. After this hand grenade was tossed, the room suddenly got quiet. I think the old boys were waiting for the punch line, a punch line that never happened.

Mr. Henry "Jake" Jacobs ... Obama ears?

“Let me explain,” Jake continued, “On Obama’s white side was the Bunch family, and …”

Well anyhow, you know how these genealogy conversations go. They’re probably very interesting, but you know you’ll never remember any of it … actually you never plan to remember any of it.

As the explanation went on, someone exclaimed, “Jake, I believe you! I’m looking at you and I can see you’ve got Obama’s ears!” All heads turned towards Jake and his rather large ears. A burst of laughter filled the shop; even Jake enjoyed this quip and laughed right along with everyone.

(In actuality, Mr. Jacobs contributed many, many other great stories for the entertainment of all in Herb’s shop this day and with his permission I selected this one and appreciate his candor and wonderful sense of humor.)

The Neglected Hero

The final customer of the day walked in and Herb introduced him to me in the following manner, “Ed, this here is ‘Goat’ and he’s been dead for over 60 years!”

Mr. William "Goat" Ewing

Something told me there would be a story here and I looked up to see a rather diminutive fellow with an impish grin – a grin that never faded throughout the entire visit. His kind face, deeply grooved by 86 years of life, compelled one to instantly like him, and I did.

“Well, actually his name is William Ewing … his friends call him Goat,” clarified Herb. Intrigued, I asked Mr. Ewing if he would share his story and he agreed, so with the help of Herb and a separate phone interview later, here is Mr. Ewing’s story, in part:

In 1942 during World War II, 18-year-old William Ewing, from North East, Maryland, was drafted into the United States Army. Later, while serving in Germany, he was blown out of his jeep by German ordinance and was rushed to an American field hospital. There began what would be a lifetime of painful medical treatments to deal with his wounds.
From the very beginning of his ordeal in 1943, his military records were botched and this curse has followed him to this day.

While he lay in a hospital in France, his parents received a notice from the United States Army that their son was “missing in action”. Totally unaware of the government notice, this brave soldier wrote to his parents—a letter that would be their first indication that he was still alive.

On a number of occasions while seeking medical treatment he was told he was not alive. One doctor even said, “You’re not the one who should be getting this care.”

Just three years ago, a piece of shrapnel worked its way out of his chest and was removed by surgery. “When I walk through the metal detector at the County Court-house, I set off alarms!” Mr. Ewing said.

Adding insult to injury he only began receiving disability payments just a few years ago, and has been denied back-payments for the more than half-century he’s suffered with his injuries.

Cecil Soil Magazine will have a more in-depth story of our “Neglected Hero” in our January/February 2010 issue that you will find, in parts, unbelievable. —CSM

Be sure to get your 2010 subscription of Cecil Soil Magazine so that you do not miss any “Haircuts with Herb!”