This is one blog post that I don’t consider myself worthy to write for a couple of different reasons. First of all, with only 15 years of residency in the amazing town of Rockport, I’m still a bit of a newcomer. Secondly, my behind has never had the privilege of sitting in one of the well-worn leather seats that could tell almost 60 years worth of tales. Let alone the iconic horse saddle seat. If scissors could speak. What in the world am I talking about? Well, THE hub of Rockport, of course. Walt Julian’s barber shop.
As new parents, my husband and I made lots of decisions together…and some apart. We agreed together on finding out the sex of our children before they were born. We agreed together on names. I, for example, decided on what the nursery would look like. And my husband, without consultation, decided that naturally their first haircuts would be done by the one-and-only Walt. As if I would have argued.
Even prior to my own children, I can remember MANY an early morning that my husband would creep out of bed at a somewhat insane hour to get a jump on the line at Walt’s. I still laugh about the day that he left at the crack of dawn as I slept on in disbelief. I grew even more incredulous when the phone rang and it was one of his good friends….who had recently moved to Beverly…calling to see if he had already left the house. When I said that he had already been gone for about 15 minutes all I got in return was, “Oh crap. I’m never going to beat that line. Click.”
So, I’m sure most of you know by now, that Walt Julian has closed his barber shop. With almost 60 years of story telling, listening, laughing, trimming, buzzing, shaving, and lollipop giving….he leaves an enormous scrapbook of memories in his wake.
While I’ve only met Walt a handful of times myself…and I am not as rooted in history here in Rockport as many others are…I am thrilled and honored to have photos of Thatcher and Finn in Walt’s care.
Congratulations, Walt, on a respected and iconic career, for creating memories for generations of Cape Ann residents, and, now, on your retirement.
I wonder just how many family scrapbooks contain photos of you! You will be missed!
Good Morning Gloucester 