Almost thirty-five years after leaving junior high school, my French teacher walked into our business this past weekend and told my sister the saddest news of our year. A dear friend – an acquaintance, a confidante, a secret keeper – had died. And not recently, but six months ago. Unbeknownst to us all, and a shock.
John Creighton started cutting my hair when I was ten years old. I probably sat on a phone book in his chair at the swanky Salon Klaus on The Plaza. He cut the hair on the heads of my parents first, and what propelled me to follow suit is unknown. School photos? Unruly cowlick? He cut my hair until my fifty-first year. No one else did. Not ever in all those years. Not even when I moved whole states away.
I am a creature of habit and tradition. John cut my hair terribly well and was the master of a blunt cut. A “bob”, as such. I still carry that style, now administered by an amazing woman and new friend, when I bother to pull my hair out of the clip I use to tame it to my scalp most days.
My history with John ran deep, and the men and women whose hair he corralled goes way beyond those of my baby boy, my husband, my sister, and my parents, People keep coming out of the woodwork this week as the knowledge of his death swells. Just today, I met another over the counter at our business.
When I was a freshman in high school, my first real job was cleaning the salon John had just joined when he moved from The Plaza to the far-off environs of 51st and Main Street. The smell of the apple pectin perms saturated in the towels as they came to a final spin in the dryer is still with me. As I mopped the floors under the chairs of the individual stations, the air would fill with sharp yet sweet chemicals and slightly burning hair. My final steps – folding the final towels, turning off the lights, and locking the door – dove-tailed with my watch for the headlights of the car either of my parents would be driving as they made the six- or seven-block trip in the dark to retrieve their oldest and cash-hungry child.
John might have been my first crush. Possibly. Probably not. Maybe. But I will always covet his silver hair and wish for his disposition that accepted facts as delivered. He was there when I married; he created a hairstyle what was beyond us both, and he stayed for the ceremony and party. He was there when my baby boy – at three years old – finally had his white-blonde locks trimmed. He was there when all matter of misfortune visited my family, and his even tone and outlook on life was comforting. He was a friend of my family and cut the hair on all of our heads – from my parents to my sisters to my child to my husband. My close friends. Strangers. And, yes, my junior high school French teacher. To name just a few.
I will not speak to his end because I do not know it. I can only speak of his smile, his quiet laugh, his gracious eyes, his belief in me and my abilities, his early realization that my son was headed toward a life unparalleled, and his deep hugs and kisses on my forehead.
I admit to hanging on tight inside those hugs more than once in forty years. I will miss him for as many more.
p.s. There are no photos for this blog. I don’t have the strength to dig them out. Sometime I might write of the first apple pectin perm I received at his hands. Sometime, but not now.
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What a sweet rememberence! Thank you for raising our souls awareness as to how simple acts of love and kindness carry our world.
Deb:
Thank you for reading our blogs and for taking time to send a sweet note.
Loss is hard and this one will take time. Again, thank you for your words.
Have happy holidays.
– sloane
Oh, Sloane, we all can only hope to be eulogized by you when the time comes. This, and you, are just beautiful. And so much of that beauty comes from the village who raised you.
Landa:
What nice things you say. Thank you.
My village is strong and you are a vital part of it. I am so very lucky.
xoxox
– sloane
I am so sorry for your loss and also for you not knowing about it for such a long time. Very sad!
I was heartbroken to hear of John’s passing. I met him,through your family, about 15 years ago at an auction. I picked up your mom and Ryoko at his shop many times and never passed up an opportunity to go get one of his wonderful hugs. I wish I had gotten to spend more time with him over the years and feel cheated that he’s gone. Thank you for your remembrance.
Lori:
He touched us all, even those who drive the Miss Daisy’s around town.
xoxox
– sloane
Landa forwarded your beautiful writing to me tonight … I, too, had a crush on John since 1980. He was a huge part of my life and did things for me that only the dearest friends and most understanding souls would do. From Klaus to Main Street to Rainbow Blvd., I couldn’t get enough of him. May he rest in peace.
Helen:
My sentiments match yours! Thank you for taking time in such a busy month to read my words and even more so for sending a kind note.
This loss was a jolt and I spent a long time on the phone with my son last night who is in college in New Jersey. He called to check on me when all along his tone betrayed his sadness.
How lucky are we to have Landa in our lives? I am touched she sent me writings on to you. John was so dear and it’s nice to “meet” you.
Happy holidays to you and yours.
– sloane
So beautifully said, Sloane. Thank you for sharing.
Nicole:
Thank you for taking time to send such a sweet note. Loss is a funny thing.
Have happy holidays.
– sloane
oh no. i came to john because of the simmons’ he gave me my first real hair cut. i was finally tired of getting my mom or step mom to cut my hair and went to a guy that my step mom recommended, in high school. he gave me a shag that was terrible, when i wanted a bob. casey told me as i cried, “you gotta go to john.” i did. he fixed it. he did the best thing ever for an awkward teenage girl, made me feel pretty and cool for the first time ever. it was my first short hair cut after years of having little girl, long hair. even after i had moved away, when i came back to visit for the summer, he cut my hair.
i think of him ever time i walk into 4017. he was a kind man and i always loved walking into his shop. it was a right of passage for me.
thank you.
P. Claire:
John was a true gem of a man. Your note made me miss him even more.
Thank for reading our blogs and taking time to send such a sweet note. I think this loss will ricochet around my head for a long time. Your words help.
xoxo
– sloane
I am so sad to hear of John’s passing. Like Claire, my first real cut, and fancy prom hair-do were by John. And he certainly did make me feel cool rather than the odd, skinny kid I was! He is always linked in my mind with you and your family. Good memories to have.
Kathryn:
What a wonderful world of humans we live in! I think my message since learning about John’s death is that we are all so connected in ways we don’t even know!
Thank you for taking time to send a note.
Happy New Year!
– sloane