Interview and photography by Skip Rowland

Editor’s note: The following is part of continuing series in which we ask residents to describe their connection to Powhatan County.

DL:  I think I was hooked the first time I got tattooed, it was right before I went into the military [when I was 18]; I got that first piece of ink and I was tickled to death with it.  Tattoos have sort of an addictive nature to them; when I got to the Philippines, I started having a lot of work done…

I started tattooing late in life [at 34]. By trade I was a jet engine mechanic, did that for about 16 years. Did that in the military; got laid off from civilian work [and] got into tattooing.  When I first started tattooing [in Petersburg], there was two shops, two legitimate shops, and there was another fella who tattooed out of his house. By the time I left the area there was about eight tattoo shops and five of them were on the main street where I was tattooing; so my wife and I started looking at places to go that weren’t so heavily tapped into.
We just came out here looking to buy a house and we found a place out on the Cumberland line. I got tired of driving back and forth — it was an hour there and an hour back — and business was slow, so we said, ‘Why not just open up a shop here in Powhatan?’

When we first moved out here there was a little bit of a flap about a tattoo shop coming to Powhatan. People’s [had certain] expectations of what to expect from a tattoo shop, what the clientele of a tattoo shop would bring in. I try to tell people that there is no mainstream clientele; it’s everybody and anybody.  Barry Goldwater, he was tattooed. The oldest person I tattooed was an 84-year-old lady; I tattooed her four times.  Tattooing’s come a long ways; it’s not what it used to be.

I think [I] worried a lot of people. I try to tell people sometimes I don’t live like I look. I would have [my wife] talk to people before they would meet me, just so preconceived notions weren’t thought of.  I’m a hard-core Republican, I’m a hard-core conservative; people don’t expect that. 

I see tattoos as the hardest thing I’ve ever done — it’s the hardest job I’ve ever done. You have people that are coming in and trusting you to alter their body and you have to be able to carry that out.  There is a bond. You’re dealing with somebody in a close proximity. It’s about as personal as you can get. It’s not the same as cutting somebody’s hair, ‘cause that hair can grow back. But, when you’re permanently marking somebody and they’re going to carry the mark until the day they die?  I’ve always taken that as a very big responsibility. 

As far as the tattoos that touch me the most maybe are “In Memory of” tattoos, and I do a lot of those.  I’ve done [some] where the person actually [broke] out into tears — and as much as I try to come across sometimes as a hard guy, it will bring a tear to my eyes. And then to have them come back two, three, four, five months later and tell me they really like the tattoo — that’s my satisfaction.

I like Powhatan. I like our place. We’ve got 17 acres, so when I’m home, to me it’s almost like being in a park-like setting. We’ve got a small pond. I like our house, too, I like our land. We’ve got 16 cats, so it gives them kinda room to run around, explore. I like that. I like the kinda country atmosphere.

[Powhatan] still retains some of the small-town charm, and instead of big-city growth and noise. I think that was one of the biggest things was quiet. Moving out here from the Tri-Cities, I’m used to sirens and all sorts of stuff and out here it’s quiet. I like being able to look up at the sky at night and see the stars and not have a whole lot of things blocking my view. Unfortunately, as a business owner, I think it’s good for the community that Powhatan grows.