Our Towns: A Barber Bounces Back by Tom Hallman Jr. The Oregonian Bob Schlick lifted the blanket and stared down at his left leg. Days earlier, on Oct. 27, 2008, a drunk driver had nearly hit him head-on, forcing Schlick to lay his motorcycle down and scrape along the pavement. He managed it, but his leg needed to be amputated below the knee. A pragmatist, Schlick believed that in time he’d learn to function. What worried him was the fate of Pacwest Hair Design, his one-man barbershop in the heart of downtown Portland, Ore.

Pacwest was more than a paycheck—Schlick had been a barber for 44 years. The surgeon had warned him that he’d need eight more operations before he could be fitted for a prosthesis. Since he’d be unable to stand, Schlick wouldn’t be able to go back to his job for months, and in a fickle world, he doubted that even his best customers would wait for him to return.

The 64-year-old was unsure of what to do next. But then, a nurse brought him a card from a customer. Within days, 100 more arrived. While Schlick was in surgery, his wife, Lynn, had grabbed his appointment book and started letting his customers know what had happened. Just like that, word spread throughout Portland that Bob Schlick was in trouble.

This unassuming man had been unaware of how people felt about him. The cards revealed the truth: “Your smile and wave brighten our day. Don’t lose that gift.” “We realize the little but significant impact others have on our lives.” “Come back.” “Whatever you need.” Schlick hadn’t cried over the loss of his leg, but now he couldn’t stop the tears.

One day, another longtime Portland barber called. Not wanting his colleague to worry while he recovered, Alan Cooper contacted Schlick’s clients and began cutting their hair at Pacwest. Soon, he proposed selling his shop and joining Schlick. Schlick agreed. Then, as Cooper was closing his place for the last time, the phone rang. Allysha Johnson was looking for work. Cooper suggested she join the new group. Before long, there was so much life in his shop that Schlick vowed to get back to work. He began doing 200 sit-ups a day, hobbled around on crutches, and bought a stool so he could sit and cut hair. Even so, he insisted that his colleagues not cut him any slack.

A wound the size of a thumbnail needs to heal before Schlick gets his prosthesis. But in the larger meaning of the word, he is healed. At 7:30 a.m. recently, he was cutting the hair of a man who’s been coming to him for 30 years. “I’ve never been happier,” Schlick said, wielding his clippers. “My life is here in this shop with my customers and my work.”