Most years at the Flower Show, I come across someone that I haven't seen for years. This year it was Daphne Gisbourne (née Salter), who used to live in Horsebridge Avenue. We chatted about the old times, her Dad, Edgar Salter, was manager of the Badsey Juniors team that I played for in 1960, her brother Peter was our captain. And her Dad used to cut my hair, and that of a great number of Badsey males besides.
Edgar was one of a number of 'amateur' barbers operating in Badsey that I know of, not necessarily all at the same time.
Daphne referred to a poem that I wrote on the subject, and here it is for the benefit of the many people who have not seen it before. I suppose it is a bit of history, in a way.
Brian Smith, September 2026
THE BADSEY BARBERS
Before the nineteen-sixties,
Badsey men paid no attention
To the styling of their haircuts,
The subject scarcely got a mention.These Badsey men were far from vain,
In the main unfashionable chaps.
Short back and sides the only style,
Kept covered by their caps.Few would afford time or expense
To go to 'Town' for half a day,
They had their hair cut in the village,
In the Badsey Barbers' way.
The earliest 'salon' in my time
Was in the blacksmith's shop.
Dick Caswell was the 'barber',
My grandad one whose hair he'd crop.In between shoeing the horses,
He'd be busy cutting hair.
This lost his clients little time
As they always gossiped there!When the troops arrived here from Dunkirk,
They were in a sorry state to see.
They formed queues outside the blacksmith's shop,
And Dick cut their hair, for free.'Buggins' was a local character,
With an enormous mop of hair.
He asked Dick for a haircut.
"Yes Sir, you sit down there!"He snipped away for half an hour.
"What be they all laughing at?"
Dick had left his hair resembling
A Davy Crocket hat!And there was ' Nucky' Grinnell,
Who performed just down 'The Crescent'.
I went to him a few times,
He was always very pleasant.He operated out of doors,
His backyard was his 'shop'
And if it started raining,
I suppose he had to stop?You wouldn't have to be put off,
If you heard pathetic wails.
As another little sideline,
He also docked dogs' tails !Next comes Edgar Salter,
In Horsebridge Avenue.
He worked in a brick wash house,
His popularity just grew.I was told by his son Pete,
He used to 'tidy up' the dead.
And as none of them complained,
He turned to the living instead!One who did complain was 'Adgy' Welch.
Edgar, his mind wandering elsewhere,
Shaved a bald strip right from neck to crown,
Causing his customer to swear.So Edgar lost a customer,
For poor Adgy that was that.
For months you'd never see him,
Without his woolly hat.Last, Bret Road's Arthur Randall,
Next door to us but one.
His garage he converted,
Into a shop second to none.I can recall his cockney patter.
And oh! how he could yak!
He was a proper barber.
He could cut a 'Boston' back.I was too young to get the offer,
But right at the very end,
He would be happy to provide
'Something for the weekend?'When he moved out to emigrate,
That became the end of that.
Goodbye to village haircuts,
And all the local chat.Our thanks to the good men mentioned,
All long since passed away,
For keeping our heads tidy
In the Badsey Barbers' way.