Delivered by The Rev. J. Jeffrey Baker
On behalf of the Baker clan, I want to sincerely thank you for coming today. Mom would have loved chatting with each of you. Joe told her before he left that his greatest regret on retiring was that he wasn’t able to bury my Mom, to which she replied, “I think I’ve got that covered.” So, I guess she wanted me to do this, and I better not mess it up or she’ll haunt me for sure!
We’re here to honor the extraordinary life well lived here on earth and the eternal promised to us all through the power of the Resurrection. Mom was born to Greta Kimball Wallace and Eugene Walton Wallace, III, who everyone knew as ‘Mike’—there’s a story there but for another time. She was born in Daytona Beach in 1942. They moved to Newark, OH a couple years later where her sisters, Lee and Kim, joined the family. Mom was four years older than Lee and five years older than Kim. Mom would ‘babysit’ her sisters by locking them out of the house until right before their parents were expected home. I only tell you this because it was traumatic enough that this story is legend in our family. The younger girls would tell on her but mom and dad would always say, “Lynnie would never do such a thing”.
Well, life moves on, and Mom was graduated from high school and accepted as a freshman at Bowling Green State University, where she met, during the first week of classes, the love of her life, James Allan Baker. (I’ll be mentioning him a lot today, because from that moment on, you didn’t get one without the other. That and we couldn’t be together for Dad’s funeral during COVID.) Anyway, they got married soon after and moved to on-campus married couples living quarters, which were basically single wide trailers. Dad loved it and started breeding Pomeranian puppies (something he grew up doing on the farm in West Melton, OH. Where his parents lived.) Around this time, Wilbur Baker, my grandfather, had a heart attack and died. James A had a decision to make. Should he drop out of school and run the farm or continue his education and get his MBA. It was a tougher decision than you might think—he was the only one in his family to go to college. Well, Mom was not going to live on a farm and made her wishes known in no uncertain terms! Those of you who know the rest of this story will be blinded by the glaring irony of that statement!
So, Dad, said “Yes, Dear” and stayed in school, moved to Bloomington, IN and had me. Dad graduated cum laude and got job in Columbus at City National Bank. Which was a highly ambitious name since they were hardly a regional bank. Turned out Dad was pretty good with numbers and mom was pretty good at raising boys (Scott and Danny were born in Westerville). We moved to Mansfield in 1975 when Dad became the youngest bank president in Ohio at the age of 33. Dad had the wonderful ability of taking small banks and putting them together. Farmers Bank became Bank One. Mom was good at meeting people, remembering names and seeing people as they were, not as who they pretended to be.
Let’s back track just a bit to 1972 when Dad met a guy, Tom Patterson, a client at his branch. Tom invited the Baker family to his camp in the north woods of Ontario, Canada. Dad thought this was great idea! Travel to a small island in the Bay of Islands with his three small children (ages 7, 5, and 2) go fishing, stay at a place called Scioto Lodge, what could possibly go wrong?! Mom was less enthusiastic, but eventually agreed, sealing our family’s fate. The boys loved it. Mom wasn’t crazy about the liquored-up Natives calling on a dark night or the garlic pancakes.
Ok, back to Mansfield. At some leadership dinner, Mom and Dad were making friends. Koke and Cheryl Cummins happen to be at this particular gathering. Mom and Cheryl started chatting. Cheryl said they had to leave early because the next day they were headed to their camp in Canada. Mom asked where it was in Canada. Oh, you wouldn’t know it. A place near Espanola. Mom’s like, I was just there a couple years ago! That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship of nearly 50 years. They spoke nearly every day around 5:00 cocktail hour. I would often hand the receiver to my mom, while the caller ID repeated, “Cummins, Otis”!
Mom and Dad and Don and Beatty Kieft bought Scioto Lodge from the Pattersons in 1982 less than 2 miles from the Cummins place. Small world. Over the next 40 years, Scioto Lodge remained a serene refuge for Mom and Dad. It was a lot of work. But we played as hard as we worked. We have forged life-long friends from all over the world who gather there when the ice goes out and pick where we left off last time. ‘Same party, different rock’ as the saying goes.
Mom went back to school in 1982 and received her bachelor’s degree from The Ohio State University. The boys had to fend for themselves during this period and learned how to cook, as eating was our major occupation. Mom was a great cook, eventually. She bought a recipe box because she didn’t like eating the same things again and again. Well, there was one experiment, that even Dad agreed, belonged in the back yard. We had hot dogs that night. Still, that never deterred Mom. We learned from her that it was okay to fail, but to never give up trying new things.
Mom loved to read. Rarely was she seen without one. Her former Book Store owner friends, Fran and Jack Welsh, kept her well supplied over the past 50 years! She loved going various book clubs and discussing new ideas. And she always had an opinion on the quality of the read and suggested the good ones to friends and family.
Anyway, back to the timeline. So, in 1982, Dad was promoted again to be the president of Bank One in the eastern part of the state. He was always a visionary. But when he showed his wife a half burned out farm house with a dilapidated carriage house in back (built in 1872), her confidence in his visionary ability waned. Nevertheless, the buildings were restored with a lot of elbow grease, and revealed a hidden door in the back of the foyer closet leading to a spiral staircase to a hidden room in the basement. The house was eventually registered on the Ohio Historical Society as a stop on the Underground Railroad. Mom’s confidence was restored!
After a short stint as president of James Madison Holding Corporation in Washington, D.C., Jim and Lyn moved back to Mansfield to be closer to friends and family. Dad took a job as executive of MedCentral and basically put small hospitals together like he did banks. Mom picked up where she left off and loved hosting at the big house on Marion Ave Rd. On a place that was once named Walnut Valley Farm. (Oh, the irony, right?!) We all worked hard on the farm. We bred Arabian horses and Labradors, had Petting Zoo—it was quite menagerie. Mom had a knack for cutting grass on the riding mower. The problem was she had to start over by the time she finished! Mom ended up working at Critter Castle, my pet shop in another life. She was great w people, not so much with critters! She loved our dogs, however, there was Bridget the Pom at college, Buffy, Tippy, Missy, Wicket, Scruffy, Shadow, and especially Moxie. (That list doesn’t even have one Lab in it—I know we’re a bit dog crazy.) The family grew with grandkids, Amanda, Jaclin, Brooke and Tara. We loved our Sunday evening dinners together.
Mom was all about family. She kept us focused on what is important in this transitory life. She loved deeply. And she always let you know where you stood with her. She was a genuine and honest person.
Once Dad decided to sell the farm, they moved to Don and Betty’s old house on Manchester, a stone’s throw from Danny’s house. We’ve been gathering there ever since. Mom loved Dad’s greenhouse when it was blooming. She loved the yard when it was properly mowed and the bushes and trees trimmed. She loved the house cleaned by April and her crew. She especially loved Sue Blank and all the help and companionship she offered in the past couple years. Mom’s friends at the Infusion Center at the hospital were always there for her, no matter her mood. She had blood drawn every Monday for the last two plus years. So, she developed very close relationships with her nurses. Her friends from Church, Marcia, Margaret, Fran and Jack and others meant the world to her. They were always calling and making sure they had everything she needed. Even though Mom used to lock her sisters out of the house, Lee was there at the end doing the hard stuff allowing Mom to be able to stay at home to the very end of her life. Lee made sure that my Mom would be sure to tell their Mom that when she sees her.
There’s so much more that needs to be said, but we need to get to lunch here in a minute. And, I am sure she is patiently waiting for us as she sits in an Adirondack chair on the dock of that heavenly lake with my Dad sipping Buttery Chardonay and him stirring his drink with his finger. They are laughing and loving and anticipating God’s promise of redemption through the power of the Resurrection.
Bay Of Islands Community Association