‘It’s always been about the people’: Catonsville Hair Company closes after 38 years

Glenn Boller had been telling some clients — all regulars — that it might be time to call it, but the Facebook post and the big “Going out of business” sign out front made it official: The Catonsville Hair Company was closing after 38 years.

After 51 years cutting hair, Boller is considering retirement. The salon has been a fixture on Frederick Road since 1988, when he and his wife, Cindee, first opened in a smaller storefront across the street. But the headaches of being a business owner got in the way of the joy he found in his day-to-day encounters.

“It was never about the money or the haircut,” Boller, 70, said. “It’s always been about the people.”

But the last few years have not been easy. Like many business owners, Boller took a hit during COVID-19. Many of his longtime clients died. Expenses doubled. The business became increasingly unsustainable.

He tried a new plan. Instead of employees earning commission, stylists became independent contractors renting a chair at his salon. He rented out seven chairs at most, but for the last two years he has only been able to rent out four. Add a torn rotator cuff and a surgery to the mix, and Boller decided it was time to move on.

“I’m tired of making the donuts,” he said, pulling out his phone to show a Dunkin’ Donuts commercial from the 1980s. The day doesn’t end after the last client, he said.

“Got to mop the floor, clean the bathroom, the mirrors. Make sure we have enough of everything for behind the scenes, from toilet paper to you name it,” he said. “I’m just kind of done here.”

He admitted he was relieved to be closing his salon, mostly to get away from the responsibilities of being a business owner.

“ If I can lay down some place and just cut hair, that would be great,” he said, as he gathered some capes to put in the wash. “It’s like, ‘Okay, I’m done cutting hair. See you!’”

Many of his colleagues have worked with him for decades. Lisa Monroe, 63, began as his apprentice 29 years ago. “ I’ve never looked at it as a day’s work,” she said. “ I always imagined the day I left would be the day I retired from here.”

This was a different workplace from the other salons she’d been. Everyone at the Catonsville Hair Company looked out for one another. Boller didn’t allow anyone to have an attitude, she said. He emphasized community and building relationships.

“ You didn’t have to be getting a haircut; you can just drop in and say ‘Hey,’” Monroe said. “ He made it like ‘Cheers.’ Everybody was welcome, from your first haircut to the last.”

The salon was a member of the Catonsville Chamber of Commerce, and Boller sponsored shows at the Lurman Woodland Theater and events organized by the Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts. For years he offered clients getting haircuts complimentary coffee, cakes and pastries from SugarBakers Cakes in Catonsville. Sometimes he had Indian food from the restaurant next door, or shrimp salad or cheesesteaks. People would come for a haircut and stay for a snack.

On a recent afternoon in mid-August, Carmen Appelbaum, 71, planned on spending a couple of hours — at least — at the salon. She told her wife she was getting her hair cut by her boyfriend.

“She’s like, ‘Oh, is that Glenn?’” Appelbaum said. “As soon as I saw that it was official, I knew I had to get in here before the end of it.”

She’s been getting her hair cut by Boller for a couple of decades and has kept coming back for the music, the smile, the stories and “a good ego boost.”

“ I came in a couple of months ago feeling kind of low, and he was just like, ‘I’m going to take care of you. You are going to feel like the queen,’” Appelbaum said. “That’s how I felt. I felt like he cut my hair knowing what I needed, and I didn’t know what I needed.”

She’s semi-secretly hoping his wife, Cindee, will let him cut hair at home so she won’t need to find someone else to cut her hair.

Boller is a friend, sounding board, psychologist and confidant to his clients. That’s bound to happen when you see someone every two months for 32 years, as Mary Peroutka has.

“ I don’t see our relationship in any way like a marriage, but it’s been long-standing,” she said. “He knows a lot about me, and I know about him. We check in with each other.”

She likes that he never asked her what she wanted to do with her hair, only how many inches he should trim. That he would never consider telling her she should get bangs, because “he knows I wouldn’t be happy.” That she could bring her son in when he wanted blue hair in 7th grade, and Boller tried his best to deliver (they finished the job at home). That, in the time she’s in his chair, they can go from trading jokes to sharing difficult health diagnoses. That she trusts him.

“He talks a lot, but he can listen,” she said.

People tell him everything. One client said all her passwords were the same: the date she lost her virginity.

Boller said he’s not sure what it is about the chair that makes people open up. Decades ago, a psychiatrist told him that whatever he did for a living, he should stay social.

“He said, ‘You would not do well working in a machine shop. It would hurt you mentally, emotionally, possibly physically,’” Boller said. “ I took his advice. It’s been that way ever since.”

The salon’s last day is Sept. 5, and he expects it to be like any other day. His last appointment is a haircut for his 4-year-old grandson, and Boller said he’d even let him give him a trim. “ I’ll give him the edger and do my sideburns,” he said.

He said he doesn’t intend to have a party, perhaps because he doesn’t see it as his last day. It’s just a break for a little while.

Until then, he said, he’s fitting in as many appointments as possible.