The Mad Barber

Most of those I hung with around here remember the "Mad Barber", Mr. John Torresse at Bancroft & Oregon.  It was said that John was a race car driver back in Italy. True or not, who knows? I think that the photos on his wall of drivers and race cars gave that impression. He did have a pair of Alfa Romeos that he owned. and at one time he had a third; all were the same model but different paint. He reminded me of a guy in New York City who had a number of cars, all the same make, model, but with him, they were all the same color. He was a serial killer, so the car thing only added to his mystique. John wasn't that far goneJohn was almost invisible to us, not earning our attention until our teens and then well-earning the moniker. As some of our neighbors were, John was not a man who had patience with people or could tolerate noise. He did not like anyone hanging on his corner. You could irritate him if you were a Buddhist monk in a saffron robe sitting there silently meditating. If you did hang there, you were an open target. What was strange is that if you were just walking by quietly, he would smile and nod to you as if he had a different personality.

I think every one of us had at one time or another been chased or felt his wrath in some way. I remember waiting for someone on his corner - actually not even in front of his shop but next door - and the Mad Barber burst through the door chasing me up Bancroft Street with a straight razor. Others said he threatened them with the razor too. Fortunately, my youth made me faster than he was. I may have avoided being sliced and diced that day or maybe he was just trying to put some fear into me. I didn't stop him to ask his intentions.
Another time, my friend Kenny (aka "The Professor") walked into class while we attended Bishop Neumann and told me he was going to "kill that ______! (This is a family site, no obscenities.) He said it out of anger and John wasn't in any danger, but Kenny was really upset. The Mad Barber had seen him standing on the corner with another person and tossed an M80 out the door at them. They ran off before it exploded, getting just far enough to escape harm but with ears ringing and the barner becoming a sort of Mad Bomber. Kenny didn't appreciate that. Anyone would be upset with someone who did that to them.
What was odd is that normally, we do stupid things as kids and then make peace with older neighbors as we grow older. With John, it was in reverse. The barber had a water ice stand that he operated in the garage at the rear of the barbershop during the summer months. We got to be friendly with him because of that stand. But as we got older, it seems we were perceived as the enemy and open targets for him. We all lived through it, none of us were ever truly physically harmed.
Like many of the old characters mentioned in this blog, he's no longer with us.
I remember the Barber/Bomber moved into a local nursing home some years ago and sold the property. Flocco's Painting was located there and now it's a convenience store. I heard a few years ago that he had passed away. The memories are still there though, part of growing up in South Philly.

AND YOU MAY REMEMBER...
   *Vito's Barbershop on Broad near Porter Streets. Vito's was the first place my dad ever took me for a haircut. He shut the place down sometime in the late 1960s.

   *Bob's Barbershop at Bancroft & Shunk. Bob was the shop owner where Johnny of Johnny's Place got his start. Bob had a glass eye. I remember Johnny telling me that he liked to play a joke with some customers where he would hang over the chair from the rear and drop his eye into their laps. That had to spook some guys. I remember him in my youth, Bob was a nice guy.

   *Victor's at 16th & Oregon Ave. He had at least five barbers and you still had to wait.  Some waited because they wanted to see a certain stylist but were willing to do it. Forget Saturdays. You could kill most of the day waiting to get snipped.

   *Johnny's Place is now gone, leaving the block a few years ago.  I remember in my early teens, I was getting the kid's rate because John didn't know my age and I didn't know at what age he charged adult rates. One of the neighborhood guys, Enzo, blew that for me. I was in the chair shortly after my birthday. Enzo was there and said, "Hey, thirteen years old now huh?" John took notice and said, "ah, I thought you were younger than that. No kid's price for you anymore." I could have had some pocket money saving the difference if he didn't know, but I got snagged on an honest error.

Originally posted in 2008.