Millions lined up, arms out, the moment the vaccine was available.

For others, it took longer to find a reason, to do the research, to get comfortable with the idea, to find the right moment in an overcrowded schedule.

For Linda Quinn, the right moment came in the middle of a Friday morning grocery run.

There were shots at the shop, a voice on the radio reminded her.

COVID-19 vaccine for anyone who wanted it, right there at the corner of W. Broadway and Penn, on the way to Hy-Vee.

Quinn, who had just worked six days straight at her job at a treatment center, had been waiting for a day off to get vaccinated. She turned her car around and followed the "COVID-19 Vaccines Here" signs to Wilson's Image Barbers & Stylists in north Minneapolis.

"I feel much safer having it," said Quinn, who asked a series of careful questions about the vaccine and its effects before she rolled up her sleeve in the mobile vaccination clinic parked outside the barbershop. "I feel relieved that it's done. … I'm going to feel much safer returning to work and being around people. But I'm still going to keep on my mask."

The delta variant — deadlier and more contagious than the COVID-19 that's already killed thousands of Minnesotans — is spreading fast. The race is on to reach the unvaccinated before the virus does.

More than a dozen Black-owned barber shops and salons across Minnesota have thrown open their doors to the federal Shots at the Shop initiative. In comfortable spaces, surrounded by familiar faces, people who are ready to have a conversation about vaccination can come in and talk with Black doctors, nurses and volunteers.

In the spring, when vaccine was scarce and people were willing to drive halfway across the state for a shot, nurse Kelly Robinson, president of the Twin Cities chapter of Black Nurses Rock, would vaccinate a hundred people or more in an hour. She still remembers the relief she saw in the seniors who had survived months in lockdown, the joy of the teachers meeting one another in line for the vaccine after months of talking only through Zoom screens.

But the mad vaccine rush slowed.

Outside Wilson's barbershop on Friday, two hours had passed and Linda Quinn was only the third person to come in for a shot.

Three vaccinations are still three reasons to celebrate.

"If I get one [shot in one arm], that's a life," said Robinson, who has set up vaccination stations at churches, at neighborhood block parties, at music festivals. "We meet people where they are."

Between vaccinations, there are conversations.

Inside the barbershop, Robinson had a long talk with a worried young father in his 30s.

He was scared, he told her, of this unfamiliar vaccine, of the government's rush to get everyone vaccinated. Patiently, point by point, Robinson talked him through the things that should really be scaring us about this pandemic. How sick he could get. The burden his family would shoulder if he ended up in the hospital, or worse. The risk to his children, who are too young to get the vaccine themselves.

"Here's the thing," Robinson said, describing the talk afterward. "There are mothers who will be saying, 'Why didn't he get it? He was right there at the barbershop.' "

Afterward, she said, the young man laughed. "You're right. You're right," he told her. He didn't get the shot. Not that morning. But they had started the conversation.

"Conversation is something that happens in barbershops and beauty salons and other community spaces all the time," said Dr. Nathan Chomilo, a Twin Cities pediatrician and the Minnesota Department of Health's director of COVID-19 vaccine equity. "If you've ever spent any time in Black barbershops, it's a place where you can go and be absolutely wrong about something and learn [and] the next week you come back and folks don't hold anything against you. What better place to have these types of conversations?"

About 54% of Black Minnesotans have had at least one dose of COVID vaccine, Chomilo said, compared with 64% of their white neighbors.

Those who still aren't ready to get their shot can still protect their communities by masking up, keeping a safe social distance and staying home if they start to feel sick.

The barbershop is a space where no one is going to force you to do anything you're not ready to do.

This is a space full of people who understand that the American health care system doesn't always seem to care about the health or care of their community. This is a country where Black patients are less likely to get pain relievers when they're hurting and where Black mothers are more likely to die in childbirth.

And this is a space where a customer rolled up his sleeve in one of the chairs at Wilson's Image Barbers & Stylists and joined the ranks of the vaxxed and relaxed.

One chair over, owner Teto Wilson trimmed a customer's goatee with practiced ease as he talked about vaccination. He approached the Health Department about bringing the mobile vaccination station to his doorstep. North Minneapolis has suffered enough heartbreak and loss in the past year and a half.

"Get vaccinated," Wilson said. "Save a life."

jennifer.brooks@startribune.com • 612-673-4008

Follow Jennifer on Twitter: @stribrooks