Kenneth Dale Baker passed away June 29, 2013 at the age of 89. He was born in Petrolia, Kansas. Ken served in the U. S. Army and was a veteran of World War II. He retired from Armco Steel Corporation where he worked at an overhead crane operator. He enjoyed restoring antique furniture and Ford Thunderbirds and was also a woodworker.
Ken was preceded in death by his parents, Leslie Porter & Coral Fern Baker; brother, Robert Leslie Baker and sisters, Elnora Adams and Margaret Myers. He is survived by his wife of 67 years, Ann Baker; children, James Robert Baker & wife Karen, Cynthia Reeves & husband Frank and Diana Dunlap & husband Dwight; seven grandchildren, Erin Hager & husband J. B., Karsten Baker & wife Alyson, Neal Baker & wife Marisa, Shane Reeves & wife Christy, Justin Reeves & wife Christi, Travis Reeves, and D. J. Dunlap & wife Jessica along with nine great-grandchildren.
Visitation will be held from 11:00 AM until 1:00 PM with funeral services to begin at 1:00 PM, Tuesday, July 2, 2013 at Woodlawn Funeral Home Chapel. Interment will follow at Woodlawn Garden of Memories Cemetery.
The Song of the River
The snow melts on the mountain
And the water runs down to the spring,
And the spring in a turbulent fountain,
With a song of youth to sing,
Runs down to the riotous river,
And the river flows to the sea,
And the water again
Goes back in rain
To the hills where it used to be.
And I wonder if life’s deep mystery
Isn’t much like the rain and the snow
Returning through all eternity
To the places it used to know.
For life was born on the lofty heights
And flows in a laughing stream,
To the river below
Whose onward flow
Ends in a peaceful dream.
And so at last,
When our life has passed
And the river has run its course,
It again goes back,
O’er the selfsame track,
To the mountain which was its source.
So why prize life
Or why fear death,
Or dread what is to be?
The river ran
Its allotted span
Till it reached the silent sea.
Then the water harked back
To the mountain-top
To begin its course once more.
So we shall run
The course begun
Till we reach the silent shore.
Then revisit earth
In a pure rebirth
From the heart of the virgin snow.
So don’t ask why
We live or die,
Or wither, or when we go,
Or wonder about the mysteries
That only God may know.
William Randolph Hearst