A Haircut with the President

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“A Haircut with the President,” Ensign, Mar. 1982, 9–10

A Haircut with the President

I had seen a picture of President Kimball hanging on the wall of the barbershop, and so I said: “I assume that you cut his hair.”

The barber, Ross Pyper, replied: “Yes, I do.”

I said: “Does he have to make an appointment also?”

He replied: “No, not any more, but he used to. Often when Brother Haycock, his personal secretary, calls, the person who had an appointment has either called and cancelled the appointment or is late. So I tell Brother Haycock to tell President Kimball to come right over and I will arrange to cut his hair immediately upon his arrival.”

In a few minutes, the telephone rang, and I heard the barber say: “Yes, Brother Haycock, I can take him right now. Send him right over.”

The barber completed my haircut and I stepped out of the barber chair and sat down. I was determined that Melissa and I would not leave until President Kimball came and we could meet him. Melissa, my little daughter, who was spending the day with me, Was so excited at the thought of meeting the prophet that she could hardly contain herself.

Soon President Kimball walked in, accompanied by a security man. The president shook hands with the barber, and then walked over and shook hands with us and was very congenial. He then got in the barber chair and the barber proceeded to cut his hair. During this time he conversed very warmly with those in the room. Melissa was so excited and spiritually touched that tears came to her eyes on several occasions. As I looked into his countenance, I knew that he truly is a prophet of God.

“Daddy, do you think we could get a picture of President Kimball?” Melissa whispered to me.

I said, “I think it would be all right. Why don’t you rush out to our car and get your camera before he leaves.”

I could see that the president was almost ready. In what seemed like five seconds, Melissa rushed in the front door with her camera at the same time President Kimball stepped down from the barber chair.

“President Kimball, I hope you don’t mind, but would you allow me to take a picture of you and my little daughter, Melissa?” I asked.

“Not at all,” he said.

I then adjusted the camera as President Kimball, with his arm around Melissa, and Melissa, with her arm around President Kimball, posed for the picture. He was then very gracious in allowing her to take a picture of him and me together, with my arm around him and his arm around me.

After this President Kimball bade all of us good-bye and shook our hands again. When he shook Melissa’s hand, she kissed him on the cheek and he responded by kissing her on the cheek. He then left, and Melissa and I were left marveling at the experience we had been so fortunate to have.