There is a neat, clean little village half a mile south of Highway 212 where it makes a long curve ten miles east of Redfield. It is one of those towns in this region where cultivated fields begin at the edge of unfenced backyards, a very quiet place with single-family dwellings. You can hear the crickets snoring. No howling dogs break the peace. Approaching it you see one tall landmark, the South Dakota Wheat Grower's Association grain elevator sitting alongside the old railroad tracks. The railroad brought the elevator and town into being, then departed. Now grain is hauled away by eighteen wheel, semi-trailer trucks.
One of the oldest structures in the village is a barbershop built in 1902 as a bank. Some time after the bank failed; it became a beverage package store selling beer, wine and whiskey. This fifteen feet by twenty feet little building is painted white and is snuggled against a tree much taller than it is. The tree seems to be standing as a sentinel over its historic old friend. One window with no curtain stares out the front the traditional barber pole is to the left of the window. Above that, centered on front of the building is a sign that says it is Deanƒs Barber Shop. There on the right side is the entrance door. First thing you notice upon entering is the floor. It is buckled and raised dramatically in the center and slopes off to the right. The floor is made of three-inch wide hardwood strips and looks like it was polished years ago with tobacco juice stomped in by cowboy boots. There are six modern waiting chairs with half a dozen antique folding wooden chairs leaning against the wall, but only one barber chair. Dean Robinson runs a one-man operation, cutting hair and sweeping up, taking out the trash and entertaining visitors. There is no shoeshine stand. Looking at the far back wall you see a counter with shelves that were used when it was a beverage store. Now barber oils and ointments desired by customers rest there.
Robinson is a slender, muscular man in his 60s with a quick smile and a good sense of humor. He still has a full head of naturally curly hair and wears cowboy boots. Robinson has been cutting hair for a long time and farmed until recently. Now he only barbers, working two days a week during winters. All spring and summer the place is not open in the daytime. You have to wait until dark to get a haircut, probably because his clientele are farmers who work during the day. Regarding peace and quiet, with no howling dogs, one waiting customer in the barbershop said, 'Well, perhaps some of them hum.'
From journal Touring Northeastern South Dakota