From 11th Street to Cove Road, generations came for a haircut and stayed for the conversation.

Roanoke, VA

Author: Roanoke Rambler Staff

Published: 8:01 AM EST September 23, 2026

Edited: 8:01 AM EST September 23, 2026

On Septembter tenth, patrons walked into Community Barber Shop for one final haircut. Behind the chair was George “David” Thompson. What looked like an ordinary haircut carried more than half a century of memories.

A few days later, the Roanoke Rambler sat down with Thompson to record the history behind a shop that had become part of Northwest Roanoke life. The conversation corrected some old assumptions, filled in names and dates, and showed that Community Barber Shop was never just about hair.

Thompson, 78, was born in Fincastle and began cutting hair in 1965. He received his regular barber’s license in 1971. His Roanoke story behind the chair began in 1969 at 205 11th Street NW, then known as the 11th Street Barber Shop.

At the time, 11th Street NW was an important Black business corridor. A history of the corridor describes the stretch from Shenandoah Avenue toward Orange Avenue as a major center of Black commerce during the 1960s and 1970s, serving the everyday needs of families in Northwest Roanoke. Barbershops and beauty salons were among the gathering places where neighborhood news, sports and politics were discussed.

That vivid setting matches Thompson’s memories. The five-chair shop on 11th Street included O’Dell Petty, Grover Ham, Roger Pours, Jackie Brown and Thompson. Petty later sold the shop to a barber remembered by customers as “Spider-Man” Carter. Ham eventually took over the operation, and the barbering tradition that became Community Barber Shop moved from 11th Street to the Cove Road area.

Thompson’s account also clears up a question about Henry Street. Earlier research raised the possibility that this Community Barber Shop had operated there. Thompson said he never cut on Henry Street and did not remember Community Barber Shop being there. He did remember Abraham Traynham Jr., another longtime Community barber, as having cut hair on Henry Street. For the shop Thompson knew, the story begins on 11th Street.

Around 1975, the operation moved to Cove Road, initially across from the present shop in the area of Reid and Russell Florist. A 1978 Ruffner publication independently lists Community Barber Shop at 1705 Cove Road. Thompson recalled another short stay in a nearby building before the current shop was built in 1980.

The partnership between Ham and Thompson began with a conversation Thompson still remembers. Ham asked whether he wanted to become partners. Thompson told him, “I ain’t got no money.” Ham answered, “I ain’t asked you for no money.” And just like that, Thompson said, they were partners.

Over the years, the core group behind the chairs included Ham, Lanvan Reid, Thompson and Traynham. Thompson also remembered Nikki Ross and Sterling Whitfield among others who worked there for periods of time. Ham died in 2013 after serving the Roanoke community as a barber for more than 50 years. Reid died in 2014. Traynham, whose obituary says he barbered at Community for many years, died in 2026.

Thompson balanced barbering with another career. He worked 38 years at Mohawk, later Yokohama, and said barbering was part-time for much of his working life. Still, by 2026 he had been cutting hair for 61 years.

Thompson memories reach back decades where leaders in the community were once children. One patron was so ticklish that getting through a haircut could be an adventure. Thompson remembered, “Spider-Man” Carter finally got kids to sit still decades ago by jokingly threatening him with the paddle if he kept moving. The warning worked. He remembers young men wanting a ducktail, an Afro with the hair in back left longer along the neckline.

One reason was simple: Thompson could move. A longtime patron offered a quote to the Roanoke Rambler, remembering him usually finishing a haircut in about 15 minutes and rarely taking more than 20. Yet he could cut, listen and carry on a conversation without losing track of what he was doing.

“I just try to give you a good haircut,” Thompson said during the interview. “Not fancy, just a good haircut.”

But customers came for more than that. Thompson said the name told the story. “The name Community speaks for itself,” he said. “It’s a community barber shop.” He described a place filled with laughter, conversation and, sometimes, deeply personal discussions. People who moved away would stop by when they returned to Roanoke — sometimes for a haircut and sometimes just to say hello.

Patrons remember the shop as a neighborhood communications hub. Customers talked about sports and politics, but they also passed along information about community events and health. Thompson recalled men encouraging one another to vote, get prostate examinations, see a doctor when something did not feel right and take care of themselves.

The role became even clearer during COVID-19. When Thompson reopened after several months, he initially allowed only one customer inside at a time. People waited in their cars, but he said many missed sitting inside because they missed the conversation and information. With only one customer in the shop, the exchanges sometimes became more personal.

“People always want someone to talk to,” Thompson said. Sometimes a barber did not need to offer a solution. Listening was enough.

There was plenty of humor, too. Thompson remembers one customer coming through the door when a barber asked how he was doing. Before the man was fully inside, he answered, “None of your business!” The room broke into laughter. It was not hostility. It was barbershop humor among people who knew one another and understood the room.

That may be the simplest way to understand Community Barber Shop. Its history can be traced through addresses, 205 11th Street NW, the early Cove Road locations and the shop built in 1980, but its real history is in the people. Boys grew into men in those chairs. Customers moved away and came back. News was exchanged. Health concerns were discussed. Jokes were told. Arguments came and went. Then the next customer sat down.

For many, the final haircut brought that history full circle. The barber who once had trouble keeping a ticklish boy still was there more than 50 years later, clippers in hand. The shop may have closed, but the conversations, friendships and memories built around those chairs remain part of Northwest Roanoke’s story.

The Roanoke Rambler