Beardless in Woodstock

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In 1967, I was 17 and was about to start college in the fall. My hometown of Franklin Park, Illinois was celebrating its 75th Anniversary Diamond Jubilee on August 3rd of that year. All the men in town were asked to grow a beard for the parade, and, being the good citizen that I was, I grew my first beard. My father was the mayor of the town so I knew I had to cooperate. That was 53 years ago and I have had a beard for 99% of those years.

One month ago, while sitting at home a little bored with the restrictions of COVID-19 and feeling as though I had already watched everything on Netflix, I decided I needed to stir things up. The most dramatic thing I could think of was to shave off my beard. So I did! The funny thing is that because I was wearing my mask when I came into the office the next day, no one noticed!

Here are photos of me back in 1967, right before the recent “facial unveiling” and a current picture of my new clean-shaven look. My family isn’t sure how to take it yet, which means I’m not sure if this is the new norm or just a passing phase. Time will tell!


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