As a little boy, San Francisco native, Ralph Catalano grew up in the Mission District, his neighborhood was then called, Precita Valley .

“We used to play in Bernal Heights when we were kids. We’d fight the kids from Courtland. They’d come over from the other side and we’d throw rocks at each other.”

How innocent that sounds today.

Ralph, a Catholic was educated at St. Anthony’s and Reardon.

“I was a religious guy. I didn’t want to be a priest, but I thought I’d be a brother."

A piano jazz recording plays in the background on a January afternoon at Catalano’s Barber Shop, a shop Ralph opened in 1961 on Irving Street, between 17^th and 18^th Avenue in the Inner Sunset. I’m not here for a haircut; he only cuts men’s hair. Ralph begins to laugh.

“Once a woman came in and asked if I had something against women.”

He lets out an infectious chuckle.

“I said, no. I don’t have anything against women, but between my wife and two daughters, they drive me crazy when I cut their hair.”

I’m at Catalano’s Barber Shop to hear Ralph’s story and a little piece of history.

I’m curious about Ralph’s transition from religion to hair, but there was some music in the middle.

A long time customer, Tom is in his chair for a haircut. Ralph chuckles as he remembers the transition.

“At a certain age, I saw girls.”

And then there was music. By the time he was in his teens, music moved Ralph forward and he began to study music at San Francisco State and he thought he’d become a professional musician.

One afternoon, needing a haircut and consultation, the eighteen year old Ralph, visited his Uncle Sam, a Barber at 20^th and Mission Street. He told him he didn’t like college. Uncle Sam said,

“Why don’t you become a barber? I’ll put you to work.”

Ralph admits,

“I didn’t think twice about it.”

Off he went to Barber College and he was a Barber before he went into the Army. He was in the Army for three years.

“I cut hair in the Army.”

While in the Army at the firing range, he incurred 100% hearing loss in his right ear.

He lets out a garrulous laugh when he explains the Army’s response to his loss.

“You’re other ear is so good, you don’t need that one.”

He became a little bitter, and stopped music for awhile.

I look around Catalano’s at an array of old photographs that line the back wall with Ralph and some of his customers.

“I’ve had three generations of customers. We’ve become friends. I’ve watched their families grow. I got grandpa sitting in the chair, his son stands to the side, and before long he brings his son for a haircut.”

I tell Ralph he looks better today than he did in those photographs. Some of the photographs were taken more than forty years ago, when he had a full head of hair.

He confesses that in those particular photos he was wearing a wig. He lost his hair, at twenty-two and in those days he didn’t think anyone would want to go to a bald barber.

Until one day one of his customers came in and asked the question,

“Why are you wearing a wig?”

He told the customer of his embarrassment and unease. This customer shed some necessary light.

“Ralph, I know a guy who’s a paraplegic. He has a beautiful woman. Legs have nothing to do with it. Hair has nothing to do with it.”

And after a short stint with a comb-over Ralph accepted his pate.

I asked if a shave is a skill Barber’s still perform. He tells me his Uncle Sam was an excellent Shave Barber. Today, there are very few Barber’s that shave and if they do, they use a safety razor.

“With a straight edge, you can go down into the skin. You could go down to Los Angeles.”

This brings forth another memory.

“I’m going to tell you a blood story.”

I’m not sure what’s coming.

“Years ago, ‘I hired my musician friend Jimmy to help out. A guy came in for a shave. Jimmy loved to talk while he was working. He put the razor on the guys face and said,

‘Have you ever been to Vegas?’ The guy said, ‘What’ and turned. He sliced him from his ear all the way to his nose.”

And now I want to leave the blood and return to the music. There is a piano in Ralph’s Barber shop and I see a copy of Max Schlossberg’s, Daily Drills and Technical Studies for Trumpet.

One day, many years ago, a woman from his church rented a trumpet and came to Ralph’s house. She asked if he would play the trumpet for Easter Sunday Mass, and he called his brother, a music teacher, to get a trumpet, so the church wouldn’t have to rent a trumpet. He practiced, and practiced and had his own resurrection.

Today, he‘s in a classical band and plays every Sunday at St. John’s. He’s also in a Dixieland band and they often play for a charity his wife is involved with.

Ralph is gleeful.

“It’s a no win proposition. I play the trumpet. My brother plays the piano. My good friend is the clarinet player. I went to school with the trombone player. I only have to pay the drummer and the tuba player. It costs me $100 bucks for our band to play for charity.”

These days Catalano’s Barber Shop is just open Thursday, Friday and Saturday.

“I like meeting the people and listening to their stories.”

Ralph’s devotes time to his family, music and the church.

Although he has a son and a grandson, women figure prominently in his life. A wife, two daughters and three granddaughters keep music and harmony in his life although he admits’ his wife can’t dance.

He laughs again,

“She steps all over my feet.”

The dances must be memorable because fifty years later, Ralph says his greatest accomplishment……

“Having three kids. They’re all good kids.”

NEXT WEEK: MEET GILBERT, GRAPHIC DESIGNER, SET DRESSER AND STORYBOARD ARTIST.