A friend recently shared how tough times at their business led to closing stores and filling dumpsters with equipment. It reminded me of my early days in our family business, where I spent countless hours moving old salon equipment. As a young executive, I was often the low man on the totem pole, tasked with dirty, grueling work that felt endless. Back then, I didn’t enjoy it—in fact, I downright hated it. But looking back, those experiences taught me lessons I’ll never forget.
Hard Work and Humble Beginnings
Picture this: a warehouse stuffed with antique salon chairs, styling stations, and equipment. My job was to load, move, unload, and arrange it all—again and again. The physical strain was immense, and the frustration was just as heavy. One particular memory sticks with me: dropping off some used chairs at my dad’s old barbershop on Robert Street. My dad, Joe Francis, had arranged for the new owner, 30 years later, to have the equipment free of charge.
Walking into that barbershop was like stepping back in time. It wasn’t fancy, but it had character—familiar scents, sounds, and an atmosphere where relationships were built over haircuts and conversations. Those chairs weren’t just tools of the trade; they were pieces of history, part of our family’s story. Moving them around wasn’t just about hard labor; it was about preserving something meaningful.
Lessons in Community and Dedication
At the time, I didn’t appreciate what those long hours taught me. Now, I see the bigger picture. Every chair, mirror, and station I moved had been part of countless customer experiences. They represented the hard work and dedication it takes to run a successful salon—a place where people trust you with their image and leave feeling better than when they walked in. Salons aren’t just businesses; they’re integral to their communities.
Moving equipment gave me a glimpse into what it really takes to make a business thrive. It’s about more than just cutting hair or providing a service—it’s about creating a space that feels like home, where trust and relationships flourish.
Gratitude for the Journey
So yes, I hated moving that old equipment. But over time, I’ve come to respect it. Those chairs and stations symbolize the sweat, long hours, and commitment it takes to build something worthwhile. Now, whenever I see an old barber chair or styling station, I think of the stories they hold and the journeys they’ve been part of—including my own.
Running a salon—or any business—isn’t just about style; it’s about substance. It’s about the hard work, the community connections, and the dedication that go into creating something special. While I may have hated moving equipment in the moment, I’m grateful for the lessons it taught me and the perspective it gave me as a business owner.
