Jul 30, 2018 4 min read

In separate careers, Rich Sonson has been to the mountaintop and taken a lot off the top.

A longtime Earth science teacher and coach, he led the Carlynton boys basketball team to a state championship in 1992. The Cougars defeated Camp Hill Trinity, 52-47, in the Class AA final. A sweet time in Hershey.

“We had one loss that year, in the WPIAL championship game to Sto-Rox,” said Sonson, who headed Carlynton hoops for 22 years and varsity baseball for 31. His basketball squad made two other championship game appearances, losing a 1981 state final and winning a 1988 WPIAL final, making that four ascents to the mountaintop.

Some Sherpa guides don’t have his climbing experience.

Now retired from academia, this Pennsylvania Sports Hall of Fame member is a cut above in another hairy profession. Sonson owns and operates Rich’s Barber Shop, a walk-in, no-appointments, few-frills operation on West Chestnut Street in his native Washington. Conventional haircuts are the norm.

“This is an old-style shop. We shave,” Sonson said. “Times have changed; we’ll do hairstyles. But our business is more old style.

“We also try to keep our prices fair. You don’t have to go to Beneficial (Financial) to pay for a haircut.”

His is one of the surviving barbershops in Washington, a city where – according to the man in charge – there once were 35 union barbershops with 52 union barbers.

Rich’s is a two-chair shop with two barbers on duty – the owner and his son, Rich, the taller of the two. A barber’s pole adorns the outside, and the interior is an art gallery of Pittsburgh-area sports, neatly arranged on the walls.

“All of the memorabilia is from my son and me,” the elder Sonson said. “When I bought the place, the walls were painted, no pictures.”

That transaction occurred in 2009, when Steve Kouklakis was hanging up his clippers at Steve’s Place. His successor maintains a tidy shop, one that opens at 8 a.m. Tuesday through Saturday and shuts in the late afternoon. (Rich’s is closed Sunday and Monday.)

The owner is 71, but has been making clients look spiffy for 54 years. Rich learned from his father, Vincent, who had a shop at the front of their Washington home, then started cutting hair as a teen. Rich was a part-time barber for 45 years before buying his current business.

The philosophy there also may be categorized as old style, but it is effective. “The key is to get repeat business,” the owner said. “People give us one chance, and if they keep coming back, we’ve been successful.”

Rich’s has a devoted clientele, and frequently filled barber’s chairs. A number of customers have known the owner, a city staple, for decades. Conversations in the shop are breezy, often interrupted by laughter.

“He is a people person. He loves to talk,” Rich’s wife, Peggy, said with a slight roll of the eyes.

Harold Mituzas, who elected to have his generous locks shorn recently, is among the regulars. He sat, talking casually with his former schoolmate. Coincidentally, on the wall to Mituzas’ left was a framed photo of the two high schoolers from more than a half-century ago, Rich cutting his buddy’s hair.

Deja vu all over again, as Yogi Berra – whose likeness is undoubtedly on the wall – would have said.

Another regular, and he is more than a regular guy, is Don Cox. The 80-year-old city resident has been a Sonson customer for nearly six decades, starting with Rich Sr.’s dad. He is the only individual to have had his hair cut by the three consecutive generations of the family.

“As long as I’m alive and can get here, I will be here,” Cox said, smiling as the elder Sonson started his loyal customer’s customary crewcut.

“He’s on blood thinners, so I’m using an electric razor instead of a straight razor,” the barber said.

Cox’s wit is as sharp as his mind, his determination inspirational. A combination of diabetes and poor circulation caused him to lose the bottom of both legs in 2014, according to Sandra Skolyak, who described herself as the man’s caregiver and significant other.

He has prosthetic legs and uses a walker. “Don’s hope is to walk just with a cane,” Sholyak said. “He doesn’t let anything get him down.”

Cox, who lives in the Canterbury Courts apartments on West Chestnut, said he struggled to get around for three years, but moves more efficiently now. He and Skolyak are Washington Wild Things season-ticket holders, and Cox plays dartball.

His regimen also includes a monthly trip to what he calls “the only pure barbershop in the city.”