{"id":1324,"date":"2025-04-23T21:33:35","date_gmt":"2025-04-23T20:33:35","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.saintstephens.co.uk\/blog\/?p=1324"},"modified":"2025-04-25T22:57:48","modified_gmt":"2025-04-25T21:57:48","slug":"tribute-to-fred-baker","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.saintstephens.co.uk\/blog\/tribute-to-fred-baker\/","title":{"rendered":"Tribute to Fred Baker"},"content":{"rendered":"

Fred was a well known and loved parishioner of St Stephen\u2019s over many decades, coming to live in Welling in 1952.\u00a0 Living a few doors down from the church, in Deepdene Road, he attended Mass almost daily when he was able.\u00a0 He was a keen member of the 11.30 choir and loved the little birthday parties held for choir members, particularly enjoying the home-made birthday cake.\u00a0 Fred was also a Eucharistic Minister and an active member of the SVP over many years.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

The search for longevity is among the most eagerly subscribed of all human endeavours.\u00a0 Thousands of books offer guidance on the lifestyle choices that will extend our years beyond the allotted span.\u00a0 New drugs promise a few more chances to cheat the grim reaper.\u00a0 Hundreds of billions of pounds have been poured into the projects of tech entrepreneurs hatching myriad innovations to keep the mortal coil going.<\/p>\n

My father, Frederick Samuel Peer Baker, didn\u2019t need any of that. With no apparent effort on his part, he lived to within a few weeks of his 105th birthday, almost right to the end physically agile and, other than for a late, slowly advancing dementia, mentally sound.<\/p>\n

\"Fred
Fred with one of his granddaughters at his 100th birthday party<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

He didn\u2019t live quite long enough to score that rare British double – a\u00a0105th birthday card from the king to match the 100th he got from the late\u00a0queen five years ago.\u00a0 Not that that would have impressed him much.\u00a0 A loyal\u00a0subject for sure, but for Dad it was his faith to which he always owed his\u00a0greater allegiance. In the words of St Thomas More, one of his favourite saints,\u00a0he died \u201cthe king\u2019s good servant, but God’s first\u201d.\u00a0 \u00a0The rest of us – the dozens of Dad\u2019s descendants – can certainly be grateful that,\u00a0unlike that English martyr, we Catholics get birthday cards from the\u00a0monarch these days, rather than a sharpened axe.<\/p>\n

I know I speak for all our family when I\u00a0say how extraordinarily blessed we were to have as a father a man whose\u00a0life was defined throughout by simply duty, service and love. \u00a0As I recall my\u00a0Dad I cannot – truly – remember anything other than a gentleness, selflessness,\u00a0 a constant\u00a0 benign presence throughout the joys and trials of our own lives.<\/p>\n

Born in the immediate aftermath of the First World War, he left school\u00a0at 14 to become a carpenter, then volunteered to join the army at the\u00a0outbreak of the second world war and served over much of the globe\u00a0for more than six years.\u00a0 Though as we know – and this became\u00a0something of a family legend – he was fortunate to be assigned to a\u00a0support unit that never actually saw much fighting.\u00a0 As our dear late\u00a0mother Della, who herself lived through the nightly terror of the blitz – used to tease us about him: \u201cWar?\u00a0 He never saw an angry man!\u201d<\/p>\n

\"Fred<\/p>\n

Still, I think we can all agree\u00a0that after almost 46 years of a mostly\u00a0happy marriage, Dad did take more than his fair share of friendly\u00a0 fire\u00a0over the subsequent years.\u00a0 And he was certainly not lacking for bravery – he was remarkably,\u00a0almost recklessly courageous at times.<\/p>\n

One of my favourite stories was when he and his brother visited Paris\u00a0for the first time together – well into their sixties.\u00a0 Travelling on the\u00a0Paris metro, Dad had that not unfamiliar experience of feeling his\u00a0pocket being picked by an enterprising young Parisian.\u00a0 Realising what\u00a0was happening, he immediately set off after the young miscreant,\u00a0chasing him along some long underground\u00a0passageway.\u00a0 \u00a0 Evidently terrified at the spectacle of this elderly and\u00a0probably mad Englishman bearing down on him, shouting in a\u00a0foreign language, the kid took the wallet, threw it back to him and\u00a0sprinted away.<\/p>\n

He spent most of his career in government service and worked diligently to provide for us.\u00a0 But his greatest ambition, and to him his most important role in life, was to create and nurture a good family.\u00a0 He was a devoted and loyal husband and father to six children, one of\u00a0whom, our brother Martin, was lost in a moment of unimaginable\u00a0tragedy at just six years old. \u00a0 Our mother\u2019s long heartbreak and our\u00a0father\u2019s calm stoicism shaped our family in the years afterwards.<\/p>\n

His and mum\u2019s posterity now number 19 grandchildren\u00a0and 16 great grandchildren. He outlived our mother by almost 30 years but remained devoted to her memory for the rest of his life.<\/p>\n

When I tell people how old my father was, I am often asked what his secret was to such a long life.\u00a0 Good genes, a temper of almost unnatural equanimity, everything in moderation – but with an appreciation for life\u2019s many pleasures.<\/p>\n

Pleasures like food, sport, reading, music – especially classical music.\u00a0\u00a0But his greatest pleasure throughout life was always his family.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0After our mother died his primary joy was spending time with his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren.\u00a0 Visiting my brother Joe and his wife Margaret in France – and frequently, even in his advanced years, helping out with DIY work around their house; travelling all the way to Tokyo or Washington or New York to spend time with Sally, the girls and me. \u00a0 Above all, spending countless days at home with or visiting Mary, Catherine and Liz, simply content to spend precious time with the daughters he loved so much.<\/p>\n

\"Jo
Fred with fellow church choir member Jovito, celebrating their birthdays<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

I think the biggest secret to his extraordinarily long and good life was that\u00a0our father understood above all the importance of gratitude.\u00a0 He took nothing for granted, believed he was owed nothing – no entitlement\u00a0or privilege.\u00a0 Every joy, every pleasure large or small, was just some new, undeserved\u00a0bonus, to be greeted with a kind of surprised thanks.\u00a0 Every good thing in\u00a0life was a gift. \u00a0 Every pain was merely the small price we pay for\u00a0living.<\/p>\n

All this, of course, came from his deep and unshakeable faith. \u00a0 His\u00a0devotion to\u00a0God and to his Blessed Mother, gave him to understand that\u00a0life itself, however long or short, is a gift and that our most important\u00a0 obligation is\u00a0 to merit it.\u00a0 Dad would never have been so presumptuous as to think he was going\u00a0to heaven,\u00a0but I can certainly say I never met a stronger\u00a0candidate.<\/p>\n

And so, while we pray for the repose of his soul, we pray even more fervently\u00a0that, reunited at last with Mum and Martin, he will intercede for his family here\u00a0who are left with nothing but our own gratitude –\u00a0for all he did and all\u00a0he was.<\/p>\n

GERARD BAKER<\/h4>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Fred was a well known and loved parishioner of St Stephen\u2019s over many decades, coming to live in Welling in 1952.\u00a0 Living a few doors down from the church, in Deepdene Road, he attended Mass almost daily when he was able.\u00a0 He was a keen member of the 11.30 choir and loved the little birthday … Continue reading “Tribute to Fred Baker”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1325,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1324","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorised"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.saintstephens.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1324","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.saintstephens.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.saintstephens.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.saintstephens.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.saintstephens.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1324"}],"version-history":[{"count":26,"href":"http:\/\/www.saintstephens.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1324\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1353,"href":"http:\/\/www.saintstephens.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1324\/revisions\/1353"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.saintstephens.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1325"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.saintstephens.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1324"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.saintstephens.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1324"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.saintstephens.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1324"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}