52 Years Ago, A Young Barber Took Courage In His Hands And Knocked On A White Landlord’s Door

You can’t replicate the rich surroundings of a locally owned business, red-and-white checkered floor, a framed letter from the mayor, and an ancient cash register, white receipt curling from the top.

This particular barbershop is called the All American. It’s been on this secondary street in Alexandria, Va., for 52 years. Booker T. Wilkins, the owner – yes, he’s named for the Black leader of the early 20th century, Booker T. Washington –came to Alexandria expressly to be a barber. Trained in his home state of North Carolina, he had heard there was work around Washington, D.C.

But his first employer didn’t like his devotion to service, Wilkins remembered. The more Wilkins – “T” – as he’s known, treated customers well and readily, the more the boss berated him. When Wilkins couldn’t take it anymore, he quit.

Eventually, he resolved to open his own place. He walked the streets looking for a likely location. He found a restaurant on Queen Street that was vacant on one side, in the middle of what was then a thriving black community.

Wilkins asked the landlord to rent the space to him twice. Both times, the landlord turned him away, calling him, derisively, “boy.”

T is a praying man, and he heard God tell him, “go back.” He felt like he was taking his life in his hands. Maybe the white man would set his dogs on him.

But when the landlord opened the door the third time, T spoke from his heart, about his dream of owning his own barbershop, one that would be for all Americans – All American. This time, the man called him “son,” and invited him in.

The conversation with T got me to thinking about one trait I’ve noticed entrepreneurs share with athletes and writers. They are willing to push themselves beyond their boundaries. T made himself physically and emotionally vulnerable – one of the hardest boundaries to cross. Those moments are often the turning points in an entrepreneurs story.

Later, after T was turned down twice for a bank loan, he used the same tactic. “This is not as long as I am in business,” he said. “As long as I am living, I will pay this back,” he told the banker. He got a loan for $10,000, opened his doors and, of course, bought a cash register.

Over the years, the community around the All American changed. Alexandria gentrified, and there’s little left but a small beating heart of the old Black community, which was, by the way, featured in the movie Remember the Titans.

Wilkins has watched over the years as Black people in the community were gradually priced out of their homes, sometimes because they couldn’t afford repairs on houses that were later bought by developers. Do the math: houses near the All American sell for as much as $800,000. That’s a lot of wealth that has left the Black community.

Wilkins, however, has prospered, putting seven children through school – two are doctors, he said — and becoming a landlord, himself, on the proceeds from the shop.

Wilkins, reads Booker T. Washington’s biography about three times a year. Sometimes seen as controversial because he advocated for economic power before civil rights, Washington gave a speech in 1895 advocating for Black power through entrepreneurship and education.

“I feel like I can do anything,” Wilkins said. “Because he did so much.”

His barbershop has remained in the same location. On weekends, you can find a group of men sitting on folding chairs outside, swapping stories and lingering after the Bible study Wilkins holds in the shop.

Small businesses – any business, for that matter, done right – is a place for people to connect. 

Wilkins told me he lost two other children to cancer, many years ago. In the time after, when he was struggling with depression, a deacon came in for a haircut. “He sat in this chair,” Wilkins said, pointing to the one between us. “He said, “Hold on for today, Brother Wilkins. Every day after this one will be better.’”

I didn’t want to end the talk on a tough or sad note, so I asked about the ancient cash register. “Do you still use it?” I asked. Well, Wilkins said, it only rings up transactions up to $5. So yes, it still works fine. To charge for his $20 haircuts, he rings up four $5 transactions.

So, do the math: A business on a secondary street, the scene of thousands of encounters, some of them boundary-breaking, ends up with an infinite value.