The man who has worked downtown probably longer than anyone quietly closed his shop recently, ending his 64-year business.
For generations, Larry Horstdaniel cut the hair of everyone from lawmakers and lobbyists to children and downtown workers. By the time he retired in August, he was cutting the hair of the grandchildren of some of his original customers.
In some ways, Horstdaniel's retirement symbolizes the end of an era. Barber shops, along with their iconic striped poles, once were a classic piece of Americana. Norman Rockwell immortalized such a scene in his painting "Barber and Boy."
I've known Horstdaniel for more than a decade. He cut my hair for years when I had enough to cut, and he cut my father-in-law's hair before that. He's cut my eldest son's hair for the past decade.
Like any good barber, Horstdaniel did more than give good haircuts. He was a good conversationalist - always ready with a witty comment or willing to opine on the day's news. He was an easy-to-relate-to everyday man, often frustrated by the asinine things politicians and other people of power sometimes do.
He was constantly irritated by the closing of High or Madison streets for fairs/festivals or other events. Bad for business, he'd say.
Horstdaniel also was a good listener, eager to learn about his customers' lives.
He moved to Jefferson City and set up shop in September 1954. He remembers it well - it was the week that made national news, and history, when deadly riots occurred at the old Missouri State Penitentiary.
Over the years, our paper has written about him on occasion. He's always been a reluctant source, never eager to be in the limelight.
In 2010, I wrote a story about how he was surprised to be featured in the travelogue, "Long Way Home: On the Trail of Steinbeck's America." The author got a haircut and chatted with him, but didn't let on he was writing a book.
Among the passages was this: "The only barber on duty wore a blue nylon jacket and crisp trousers. His shoes were polished to a high gloss, and some combs stuck out of a pocket. He looked to be seventy for certain and possibly seventy-five, but he stood solidly on his own two feet like Jeff City and gave me a practiced, professional smile to put me at ease, as a doctor might."
In 2014, we wrote about Horstdaniel when then-Gov. Jay Nixon presented him with a medal for his service in the Korean War.
In recent years, when someone would ask Horstdaniel if he had plans to retire, he'd say "no," adding: "I don't know what else to do but cut grass and cut hair."
However, at the age of 91, Horstdaniel's body couldn't keep up any more. Over the summer, he started having more trouble walking and he realized he needed to call it quits. When my 13-year-old son went for a haircut in July, Horstdaniel told him matter-of-factly: "This is the last time I'll be cutting your hair."
One day in August, the pole at Larry's Barber Shop was off and the blinds were closed. A small, one-word sign was posted on the door: "retired."
No retirement party, no reception. Horstdaniel was never much for fanfare. He was happy to earn a living doing what he does best, while keeping up with the lives of his customers. Many, including myself, consider him a friend.
Thank you, Larry, for your friendship, your service to our community and your service to our country.
GAT/News Tribune