Just across the river from Wells River, Vermont, is Woodsville, New Hampshire. It was once a bustling railroad town. Now, most of the trains are gone, but not the village barber, Paul Tetreault.
"When I came to Woodsville, there were six barbers in Woodsville," said Paul.
Paul started cutting hair 62 years ago straight out of barber school. He was just 18.
"I had wavy hair, but it waved goodbye," said Paul.
His hair might have said goodbye, but not his loyal customers. Paul is like a conductor with the comb and scissors performing in perfect sync.
Dick McDanolds has been coming to Paul's Barber Shop the longest of anyone.
"Oh, he's been cutting mine since the early '50s," said Dick.
Dick, a former dairy farmer, got his ears lowered last week. He came in to say hi and talk about politics; the New Hampshire Primary is on his mind.
Reporter Joe Carroll: You've been getting a lot of junk mail lately, hunh?
Dick: Oh crazy, crazy. Oh well, got to keep the boiler running.
The candidates for president have literally added fuel to the fire, keeping Dick warm but a little hot under the collar from the candidate's robocalls. He's been getting up to 30 a day.
"Some days you want to sit by the chimney and bang your head on it," said Dick.
In the next room, Paul is a bit more tight-lipped.
Carroll: You talk politics in here?
Paul: Not too much, it gets me in trouble-- politics and religion.
The days of the barber shop being a male clubhouse where guys hang out for hours is over. Most come in for a cut and leave.
But the day is a busy one. He's the only barber left in town. Some come all the way from St. Johnsbury for Paul's service.
"I like to put a bit of miracle grow in my water here," said Paul.
Carroll: You must be tired, you've been standing ever since I got here.
Paul: Yeah, my legs are tired.
The 80-year-old is open every day but Sunday. Work is his oasis. His wife, Lorraine, died seven years ago.
"Life goes on," said Paul. "Modern cash register, I can still operate when the power goes out."
A haircut goes for 14 bucks, a far cry from the 75 cents he charged when he first opened. But Paul is quick to say an ice cream cone ain't a nickel.
"Put a sign on the door, lock it, turn the pull off, that's it," said Paul.
Paul will be back after lunch. He's not sure how long he'll continue, it depends on his health.
"One day at a time," said Paul.
A Super Senior with scissors, perhaps a cut above the rest.
When Paul is away from the shop, he's a champion horseshow pitcher, competing in both Vermont and New Hampshire.
PO Box 4508