40 Years of Roots in Penn Valley—and What They Teach Us

Jan Baugher has lived in Penn Valley for more than 50 years and owned her own salon for 40 of them.
She's lived here long enough to remember when the town had around 800 people. Long enough to watch the shopping center take shape. Long enough to know generations of families—parents, kids, and now grandkids—who've all sat in her chair.
Spend enough time in a salon, and you start to understand what people are really coming in for. Hair is part of it. But so is everything else.
"I hear it all," Jan says. "Husbands, wives, kids… people's problems."
Over time, she's learned where the line is.
"There's kind of an unspoken rule," she says. "What's told to you, you don't share."
She's part stylist, part listener, part keeper of stories. And not just those told in the chair.
The Kind of Place You Grow Into
Because Jan didn't just build a business here. Her life is woven into the place itself. When she moved to Penn Valley in the early 1970s, it was still taking shape.
Even Western Gateway Park—now a central part of the community—was just land. The property had been donated, but there was a deadline. If it wasn't developed in time, it would be taken back.
Her parents, along with a small group of locals, stepped in.
"They helped get it developed and off the ground," she says.
Back then, the town felt different.
"You could leave your house unlocked," she says. "Leave your keys in your car. Everyone knew each other."
That version of the town isn't exactly the same anymore—but pieces of it still exist. You still see it in how people rely on recommendations. In how long memories matter.
Jan doesn't describe herself as an archivist. She wouldn't use that word. But sit with her long enough, and you start to realize—she's been holding a version of this place in her head for decades.
Trends Change. Trust Doesn't.
For more than four decades, she has watched both subtle and significant changes unfold—not just in Penn Valley, but in her industry.
"It used to be that salons had employees," she says. "Now everyone's independent. They rent their space."
And then there's style.
"There used to be one haircut everyone wanted," she says. "The Rachel. Everybody wanted the same thing."
Now?
"It's all over the place."
That shift taught her something.
Trends come and go. But it doesn't mean out with the old, in with the new.
Grown Slowly, With Care
For people new to towns like this, there's often a rush to improve things, Jan says.
To update. To optimize. To make it better.
She has watched that happen more than once.
"People come in and say, 'Where I came from, we did it this way,'" she says.
And then, just as often, it doesn't land.
"Sometimes people take over a business and change everything right away," she says. "And they lose their customers."
Her advice is simple, and it's earned:
"Learn first."
Not forever. Not instead of changing things.
Just first.
And when we ask Jan what's kept her business going for four decades, the answer doesn't come dressed up.
"Word of mouth."
No funnels. No campaigns. No constant posting. No optimizing your online presence. No talk of AI. (Though, to be fair, those things are also undeniably important in 2026.)
In a small town, in-person, word-of-mouth, know-your-neighbor approaches still work—if you give a little more than you get.
And when asked what advice she has for newcomers, she says:
"Just be yourself. If you do that, you'll be ok."
