The Hairline of Democracy

In the trim, arid and isolated atom bomb-making colony of Los Alamos, N.Mex. (pop. 11,000), one man could not get a haircut. Because he could not, neither could anyone else get one in town.

The one man was William G. Stone, a blue-uniformed security inspector, who keeps a watchful eye on miles of barbed fences. Because he is a Negro, the six barbers in the town's only barbershop refused to cut his hair, and walked off the job. They also had to leave town, because no one who is not gainfully employed is allowed housing in Los Alamos.

Stone stood on his rights. The Atomic Energy Commission, he knew, demands nondiscrimination of all of Los Alamos' business concessionaires. With his shop shut down, Manager Darrell McCleskey advertised for barbers throughout the state, interviewed 29 applicants, but could find no barber who would promise to cut heads regardless of color. He offered a compromise: if Inspector Stone would keep away from the shop, McCleskey himself would cut Stone's hair by appointment in a private chair at the Guest Lodge, where he usually gives personal attention to the top administrators, scientists and company officials.

Stone refused, and added: "Either you believe in democracy or you don't ... I wouldn't consider myself capable of handling my job as a security inspector if, because of my color, I had to be treated differently." Result: everyone else in town either went shaggy or drove 34 miles to Santa Fe and the nearest pair of clippers.

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