What the f***?
The barber's sister would tell him there was something wrong with Lanza, that he wasn't right.
Skuba never knew what exactly was wrong. Lanza never looked like he was dangerous. He didn't seem like the type, a nerdy teen with oversized dress shirts buttoned to the top.
Never, never did he think the kid would do this.
He had to be possessed by the devil. I don't care how messed up you are. No one shoots a child 11 times.
About three years ago, the haircuts stopped. The barber thought Adam must have moved to a different town. His mom was always punctual with setting up his haircuts, a real regular.
The salon is just across the street from St. Rose of Lima, a Roman Catholic Church. On Tuesday, the church bid farewell to 6-year-old Jessica Rekos.
Skuba stood out front and watched as the hearse, under heavy police escort, pulled out and the funeral procession headed to the cemetery.
Distraught, he shook his head. Never could he have imagined.
Inside his shop, he stood at the chair where he'd cut Adam Lanza's hair so many times over the years.
"It's just weird that I actually touched him. That's the worst part about it -- that he was in one of our chairs. I'd try to joke with him. He wouldn't even look at me."
Admittedly, he has a terrible thought.
He wishes he'd have killed Adam.
"I wish I would've killed him then," he says. "Or he should have killed himself a long time ago. He would've saved us all the trouble. ... He should've run in front of a bus, or some other type of terrible death he should've done to himself.
"It would've saved all those kids and parents the trouble. I should've slipped and stabbed him by accident. It would've been a lot better for those people."
Skuba's not sure if he cut the hair of any of the slain children. He hasn't let his mind go there.
I don't really want to talk about that.
He's lived in Newtown for more than 30 years. He puts down his clippers.
Then, he sighs.