Ronald J. Baker – February 19, 1947 – April 25, 2025 – A Close & Cherished Friend, a Soulmate, Who I Miss Very Much

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Foreword

In 2017, Ron’s wife, Laurie, was planning a big shindig for Ron’s 70th birthday. It was going to be on February 1, and I was not going to be able to attend, as I had already made arrangements to make a side trip to Portland flying home from somewhere else in July to spend a couple of days with Ron and his wife. For we had developed a habit of me coming to Portland to visit them every two years or so and this year I was going to visit in July.

Laurie, as a surprise for Ron, had sent out an email to all of his friends inviting us to write something about Ron – a favorite memory, how we knew him as a friend, or anything else that we wanted to write about – that she was going to compile into a book, as a special gift to Ron on the day of this special celebratory birthday.

The letter below, dated February 1, 2017, was the letter I constructed and wrote for and about Ron. He was a very close friend, about three years older than me, and I wanted to truly honor him. And after reading the letter through a number of times as I prepared to put together this posting about Ron, I realized that everything I said about him eight years ago was still true until the day he died. And in the reading of the letter, many deep emotions were stirred further coloring and touching tender points within my soul, as befitting any memory of a longtime soulmate.

Now this entire post, in my mind, is not in any sense an obituary, that is the burden of the family. Rather, this posting, is an honest celebration of his life and an honoring just from my heart, no others, proclaiming words of gratitude, appreciation, and love for my longtime friend, Ron, who I miss very much. And as I write these few words, I deeply feel his absence now even more and more.

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                                                                                                February 1, 2017

Dear Ron,

            Happy 70th birthday!  I hope your day and the gatherings and celebration are joyous and memorable and filled with family and friends.  I would have loved to be there for your birthday, but missing your birthday celebration makes me look forward even more to hopefully visiting you and Laurie this summer.

When Laurie invited your friends to send you birthday greetings/write about you as a friend, I wasn’t sure whether to write everything in a letter or to write about you, so I hit upon a hybrid format and in this letter to you, I also included what I would say about you to others.

 About Ron

            I admire Ron for the person and friend that he is.

From when I first met Ron in my college senior history seminar class – Ideology and Conflict – I admired his intellect, his practical and common sense in approaching ideas which to me were fairly complex, and for the honesty of his speech and expression.  I perceived a clear honesty to his character to which I just naturally seemed to gravitate – perhaps the gravitational pull of a greater like-soul upon mine – and these deeper qualities that I saw and sensed way back when, have grown and matured my admiration for him.

            Ron possesses the sweetness of a kind and gracious spirit.  He is compassionate and has a mind and heart bent towards understanding and reflection that deepen and widen the good of these qualities, which then informs his soul and interprets the world upon which he gazes.  I admire this also.

            Ron is polite and reserved in judgment.  These qualities, then in combination with all of the above, in my view, give Ron a strength based upon conviction and a sense of right and justice.  There is nothing weak about Ron.  For within this strength is woven a quiet courage that compels Ron, I believe, to listen, to think, and take positions and speak with his mind and heart on issues of vital importance to the good of others.  And this bravery is clear-eyed and rooted in the realities of the world which recognizes that not all battles are won, that the destruction of virtue and justice happens and is always a threat, that in the Lord’s economy, good may not immediately triumph over evil, and that sometimes the truest victory, both within the soul and in the realm of man, is many times just in the raising of the voice.  It is a strength recognizing one’s own weaknesses and vulnerability, and the risk of loss, but still a champion and example to at least some, alive with hope, and always moving ahead.

            Ron possesses a fine gentle yet broad and reflective sense of humor.  Ron’s humor, reflecting his inner person, is never bitter or mean or biting, but always gentle, gracious, genteel even, and basically casts a warm glow around everything about him.  Sometimes he amuses himself and even over the phone, you can see and hear that gentle smile come upon his face.  Yet his humor, and the depth of it, always has a tinge of sadness stemming from what he sees around him in the world and it is empathetic, humanitarian, and compassionate.

Ron loves books.  He loves books for the sheer enjoyment of knowledge, learning, discovery, and depth, which books and the love of them afford.  I share the same love, and my soul also naturally gravitates towards books.  I love even the smell of books.  I don’t know if Ron also loves the smell of books, but he has a deep love of libraries – temples for the accumulation and housing and cherishing and using and honoring of books and what they represent and contain.  Libraries are what Ron gave his life to and they literally were the air he breathed and the environment – the place – within which his person and mind resided for many years, and now the intrinsic beauty of libraries and the wonderful aroma of books reside deep within his soul.  The strength and dignity that comes from a love of books and learning has endowed Ron, in my estimation, with stature – the stature of a man whose spirit and soul have been shaped and refined by knowledge and thought.  I also so admire this of Ron.

Ron possesses an open, exploring, and curious mind.  This is one of the fundamentals of his love of life.  He is interested in everything, and knowledgeable on many things.  He has a mind ready to engage on any subject, and my own conversations with him, though continuing for hours, seem but minutes because of their sheer pleasure and satisfaction for me.  He is always open to listening to the other, always moving ahead, always growing and expanding in thought, and always carrying along with him those he has engaged in conversation and thought.  I have been blessed many times when talking with Ron – blessed meaning; listened and responded to, encouraged, grown, and being the object of his contentment and excitement in deep personal conversation.  This I began to experience from our first time together at UCR, now umpteen years ago, and this is what I still now so enjoy from Ron and is just one of the reasons I love him as a friend.

            Now all of these qualities, rare and undervalued in the world in which we live, have, I suppose, colored Ron at times as slightly fuddy-duddy.  Yes, there is this dated aura to Ron’s life, but one that I find endearing, proper, and right.  I have always thought that Ron was misborn in time.  He should have been born in England in the 1900’s so that he could have been a scholar and professor in the 1930’s in Oxford or Cambridge excelling as an academic in whatever field or fields he chose.  Alas, as I said, he was misborn and born in California of all places and grew up in the 1950s and 60s, certainly a place and time with the potential of multiple indignities upon his proper soul.  Yet, Ron has even borne this misstep in his life with dignity, inner strength, and a resolve to just carry on and cope with this burden as best he was able.  In this, as in all aspects of his life, I think he has done fairly well, thank you.

Closing Words About Ron

            So, in closing my letter to you, Ron, I again want to wish you a happy 70th birthday.  I also wish and hope that you have many more birthdays, for yourself, for Laurie and your family, for your friends, and for me.  And, you know, Ron, as I finished and perfected all that I wrote about you, one final thought became dominate in my mind, and that was if I wrote all of what I wrote about you about any other person, it would become an incitement to pride, but with you, I know, rather, it will become a burden of humility, and that, I suppose, rather, I know, is the greatest birthday gift I can give to you and one which I know you will cherish.  I consider myself blessed to have a friend such as you.

                                                                                    Your friend, Chris

P.S. Now when we talk again, I don’t want any unseemly profusion of thanks or other mushy expressions.  That would so not be you!  Rather we will just continue from where we left off and again encourage each other to find and raise our voices for the good of those around us.  I do think both of us more than muddle through, and so whatever we do, we will just continue doing it, but just better.  Besides, if I am around to write your obituary thirty or more years from now, I may say something entirely different.  You’ll never know! 

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Something Sad, but Life Went On, As It Always Does, and a Great Joy a Month After Ron Passed, of Which He Already Knew

The second week in April, I was in New Jersey for my grandson’s birthday – great time with him. On Sunday night, the children went to bed, then to sleep finally after I told them a story and rubbed my grandson’s back. I then realized that with the time difference between the East Coast and Oregon, I could remarkably call Ron and have our Sunday evening time together at our usual time.

So, I phoned Laurie to set up a call – Ron’s phone skills, and the antiquity of his phone, did not possess the best initial contact abilities. I asked her if Ron would be available for our usual time together, but Laurie told me unfortunately no, as Ron had had a difficult time that day and was so fatigued that he had already gone to bed.

I asked her to tell Ron I had phoned and inquired as to the best day and time that week to phone to catchup, and she said probably not until next Sunday as Ron had multiple doctor’s appointments that week. OK.

The Next Sunday – Easter Sunday – we spent the afternoon at my sister’s house with family and arrived home a little later than the time Ron and I usually spoke and I phoned Laurie to see if Ron was still available. She informed me, sounding a little tired herself, that Ron had had a very tiring week and that he had unfortunately again already gone to bed utterly exhausted. Since it was Easter Sunday and this would be the second week we had missed talking, I told Laurie I would email a short message to Ron and ask if she could read it to him on Monday. She thought that was a good idea and said she would read it to him when he was up. OK, good. I told her I would send it to her before I went to bed. Below is that message.

April 20, 2025

Ron,

Happy Easter, with our church service today it was so nice again to hear the central good news of our Christian faith, the Gospel, that Jesus conquered death and has now established his Kingdom on earth and that … His Kingdom is a kingdom of justice, mercy, peace, and love.

And these are the truths that we have talked about so often over the past eight years or so. With so much darkness and evil surrounding us all around, the light of mercy and hope is such a welcome and needed grace upon our lives and times.  And we have been sharing and encouraging each other with this truth for years – such a blessing to me, and to both of us as our relationship transformed and grew into helping us keep each other “normal”.

I thank you for this great gift, which has and will continue to encourage and energize my life.

You will be happy to hear that I again participated in the second great nationwide demonstration against the attacks upon our government and democracy. The theme of these demonstrations was, “No King”, and was actually the day after the anniversary of Paul Revere’s ride to warn the colonists that the British troops were coming, which led to the Battle of Lexington and Concord, which was a start of the American Revolution to get rid of the first despotic king to try to rule over us.

You will also be glad to hear that Harvard University basically told the administration to go jump in a lake that the university was not going to comply with any of the anti-DEI requests. Other universities and colleges are now banding together to also fight the administration. There is hope!

So, we may be communicating through Laurie for a while, so let her send me your words and thoughts.

With such thankfulness for your friendship,

 Chris.

Laurie never had the opportunity to read the letter to Ron. Ron never heard it.

Laurie later informed me that on the day after Easter, on Monday morning, it seemed he had a stroke. He was then uncommunicative and remained uncommunicative during the entire week. He then died peacefully on the Friday, April 25.

I received a text message on Saturday morning from Laurie sadly informing me of Ron’s passing. I was numbed by the news.

But life went on, it had to go on, as it usually does for me, as that Saturday I was then busy all day cooking and getting ready for a mini-high school reunion and birthday celebration at my house – nine of us high school friends, all but one who lived close by, two friends of those friends also from my Catholic grammar school, all of us, more or less, celebrating the year of our turning 75-years old. It was a very nice time – a ton of food and talking and laughing, and several bottles of wine.

But…there were a few times during that gathering, when I thought of Ron and my own mortality, and the fact that at some point in my future, I would also be gone and life would also just continue on, but then, of course, without me – something I had already contemplated in terms of my grandchildren and now…even more poignantly…in terms of my first great-grandchild born…a month after Ron’s death…the coming birth I had already shared with him, for which he had already heartedly congratulated me…being the close friend…and soulmate…that…he was…

My Dear Friend, Ron, A Brillant Odd Duckv

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This large stained-glass mobile was made by Laurie’s father. It was made for Laurie and Ron as a Christmas present for 2000. It was designed to hang in their family room window, the great room of the house, which they had managed to purchase in Monmouth OR, a few years after they first settled in Oregon, when they had moved from their home in Riverside, CA – when Ron and Laurie left California, the state where they had both been born and lived and thrived in for about the first fifty years of their lives, where they had happily married, producing a son and a daughter and with the move then leaving them both.

As for the design of the mobile, Laurie thinks that her dad just liked the pattern he found, which probably suggested the Pacific Northwest to him where Ron and Laurie did then indeed live. The ducks then, in their magnificence, eventually took flight and traveled with them and shared in their sojourns from Monmouth OR, to Boise, Idaho, and then finally back to Oregon, to Portland, over many years.

When I first visited them in Portland, which was the first time I had visited them in their home since they had moved from Riverside CA so many years before, I remember walking into the smallish living room and being struck by the vividness and power within this stained glass creation which hung in the middle of the large living room window and absolutely dominating the window and the room. I thought it was beautiful, and I loved the colors and overall theme of two radiant wild ducks flying with such energy and ease of flight.

Now these two ducks were magnificent and not at all odd, and I don’t remember the first time that I began to think of Ron as an odd duck, but once I thought of it, in my heart it was always an appellation of respect and wonder about the unique and different things about him. And actually, some of these aspects of Ron which initially appeared “odd” were because other close friends did not possess or exhibit these “oddities” so evident in Ron, which in fact were attitudes, ways of expressions, and behaviors which I came to appreciate and cherish about him.

Then, over time, I realized that I myself shared many of the things I admired in Ron. I realized anew that I myself was odd, and not just to others, but deeply odd and different within with qualities that I appreciated about myself and held to easily and naturally. For these differences and oddities had arisen within me from the person I always was which then worked to further refine and define the person that I always was further becoming.

For in our talks, Ron many times was the only friend I had who could became fully engaged in conversation on a subject that I couldn’t even begin to talk about with other close friends. An example of this is the one time we discussed at length and with great interest and enthusiasm, the detailed archeological studies of the history of the Native Americans of the US Southwest, and the effect of hundreds of years of changing weather pattens of rainfall and drought derived through a layer by layer careful study and analysis of the middens – a trash and garbage heap – associated with the people of a long-term human inhabited site. These studies provided the evidence of the ecological changes within the Southwest, which then were reflected in greater or decreasing agricultural output and thus changes in diet. The studies also recorded the changes in the people/tribes occupying a particular site by a careful analysis of the changes to the stylistic and cultural links of the pottery produced and used at the site. I still think this is exciting information.

I have a very good vocabulary, but Ron very easily used words in our conversations that I had really never heard of or knew what they meant until I looked them up. Words like quotidian – of or occurring every day – a word I have never used in a sentence until now and will most likely never use again. Daily is a very able and much used synonym. And I knew what a book trilogy was, but easily coming forth from Ron in a conversation was the word for a series of four books – quadrilogy!

I loved this about Ron, just as I love reading books where I am not familiar with some of the words and do not know their exact meaning. And it is this love of learning and the acquisition of knowledge that came to both of us through a lifelong love of reading and books, and with Ron, through a lifetime career in library science.

During our Sunday evening conversations, we many times would discuss the books that we were reading and why they appealed to us and why we thought that they were important. Both Ron and I were history majors – we met in our senior seminar class at UC Riverside – and history and the current state of our nation were discussed many times during our Sunday conversations, but, after a while, only in limited quantities which included, by mutual agreement, a name we no longer spoke, refusing to give our own air time to one seemingly so puffed-up and arrogantly ignorant.

Another aspect of Ron that I truly appreciated about him was not only did he recommended books to me, a number of which I bought, some still among the stack of books on the floor in my study awaiting a read, but Ron also occasionally would buy and send me a book usually purchased at the occasional wondrous book sale at one of the big public libraries near him which I once had the unique pleasure of enjoying with Ron.

One time when I was in Portland, Ron was very excited to take me to a book sale at one of the big libraries near him – the Beaverton City Library I believe – a book sale magnificent and exciting! A big room, a huge room, of great books, loosely sorted on many tables by subject. Eagerly we separately meandered through the thousands of books – like wandering into the cavern of Alladin’s treasure, but here not a treasure of gold, but of books, something more precious and shining and lasting than gold – a treasure of knowledge!

In our time of meandering, Ron would occasionally call me over to a specific table pointing out the subject of the books for my perusal, and at other times he would wander to me with a book or two in hand which he thought would interest me. In all his offerings he was usually right, except for the books I already had – which spoke of how well he knew me.

Together we easily spent more than an hour there among the books and I managed to find at least four books which were books I had always wanted or were about one of my passions in history or archeology. Our time together at the book sale literally one of my greatest times in Portland with Ron. He was very satisfied in the books he found, and even more in the joy and satisfaction I experienced there with him. We were true soulmates

Other, even greater soulmate times Ron and I had together, were when we would trek to Downtown Portland and spend literally hours at Powell’s Bookstore. Powell’s Bookstore is the largest independent bookstore in the world. It covers an entire city block, has four floors, and is filled with over half a million books. A bibliophile’s dream store, a sanctified place of joy and wonder, approaching the definition of heaven, yes.

When we would go there, we would plan on being there most of the day. When we arrived, we would agree to meet at a certain location at a certain time to see how each was doing, and then we would split up and go our separate ways to the book sections which interested us. When we met at the scheduled rendezvous, we checked to see how each was doing, then set the time to meet in the lobby and purchased our books. And once happily laden with the heavy bags of our purchased treasures, we would then leave for a late lunch and walk to Ron’s favorite downtown restaurant.

At the restaurant, we were seated at a window table in a quiet, dignified, tableclothed room in a hotel with an old-world flavor, dignity and charm, that so complimented the odd Ron that I loved. We easily adopted the polite quiet tone of the conversations murmuring around us, as we handled one by one the books we had purchased and shared with each other the reasons why they were new treasures. It was a time brought about by our shared love of reading, learning, and knowledge – books – and it seemed to me that we sat together in a room separated by decades from the scene of life just beyond the elegant curtains and glass of the window where we sat. I do not remember exactly what I ordered for lunch, but it was a good proper meal, with mashed potatoes with gravy, the only thing I remember on the plate, which were to me were rich in taste and equally satisfying, the perfect period to our time together.

Yes, Ron was a happy, soaring, odd duck, and I enjoyed and loved him for it – and really, in this posting, I have not exhausted the attributes of what made him such a magnificent friend.

And as I already wrote, I am also an odd duck – any friend or family member will confirm this – and, of course, another reason Ron and I were close was because birds of a feather flock together, and we were certainly of the same feather, and we had flocked together for many years.

But now, I flock with no one, and I fly alone. But that is fine, as Ron and I over the years, learned to fly together and alone through each other. And I keep flying still- for I have ten grandchildren and one great-grandchild – and I certainly try to soar as an eagle in heart, mind, and soul for them. Of this, Ron would certainly have supported and encouraged me, behaviors of a treasured friend and soulmate, of which Ron was many times over.

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Two Old Dinosaurs Paddling Along the Soft, Muddy Path Towards Extinction Because That’s What Dinosaurs Do

For many years I have told Ron that we were just two old dinosaurs paddling along the soft, muddy path towards extinction because that’s what dinosaurs do. For we were indeed dinosaurs, Ron more of a dinosaur than me, especially in technology and adjusting to many of the changes that have happened in the world around us over the 70 plus-plus years of our lives

I originally had offered this image as a joke, as an evaluation of our status in the world. But over the years, we both realized that this was true of us, for we had basically outlived the parameters of the world that we had grown up in and from which our values and ideals were formed. For we were both children of the 50s and 60s, and our early social, political, religious, and spiritual values were formed through the events of these earlier times giving us a deep sense of the rightness and the necessity of justice, equality, and goodness towards others.

And much of this was fashioned by the shock of the assassination of President Kennedy in 1963, by the national turmoil of the Vietnam War, the growing civil rights movement and the violence and hatred towards it, and the assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr. and Senator Robert Kennedy in1968 when I was in my last year of high school, and Ron was in the National Guard and he was stationed in Baltimore after MLK’s assassination, where he witnessed the city burning. These were the things that deeply settled in our minds and soul, events which especially deepened our sense of justice and the imperative it came to play in our lives.

And what I wrote about being dinosaurs began as a humorous observation of our lives, but after a couple of years, we began to realize that we were truly now dinosaurs, which was strangely intuitively fine with us. Then one day I told Ron that the image I had of us was indeed of two dinosaurs, Ron being the bigger dinosaur because he was older than me, and that we were paddling down a soft, muddy path with no real obstacles in our way. And then I said that at some point along the path, we would pause for a moment, and we would say goodbye, and then Ron would just continue down the same soft, muddy path that we were on, and that I would watch him leave until he was out of sight. And then…I would turn onto a different path, a path not so easy, and then I would move towards extinction by myself but later, perhaps much later, and always missing Ron along the new path, but at peace when he plodded on away from me. And that’s exactly what happened.

During our Sunday evening discussions, we at times talked about this, about the path that we were on, and how similar our paths were, but both knowing and accepting that the image was of Ron leaving this life before me. And at times we talked about our mortality – the death of my infant son at times coloring our conversation, as did the death of his parents and his only brother, who was very unlike Ron, but much loved.

And in the last two years or so of Ron’s life, Ron began to share with me openly and honestly about his growing physical limitations and fears. For by then he was suffering from Parkinson’s disease and the multiple ways in which it attacked his body, and how he was having to adjust to and compensate for its effects upon his walking, and breathing, his sleeping, and the shaking and tremors in his body it was also producing.

And at least twice during this period, he initiated a talk about when he was gone. I was always inwardly silenced when Ron spoke of this, and also outwardly silent, because I wanted to so carefully listen to his words because I knew I was hearing from the depths of his mind and soul, and I wanted his thoughts to deeply sink within me.

Ron and I both loved and possessed books. He had many more than me – his large lifelong collection of books on Thomas Jefferson a significant portion of his library, Jefferson being one of the men he admired for the breadth of his interests and knowledge – a true man of the Enlightenment.

We often discussed about what would happen to our books when we were gone, quietly speaking of them as we would speak of friends, or of cherished possessions, both which in fact our books were. This was a heavy subject for Ron, and he struggled with it, because his books meant so much to him, and were such a part of him, a feeling towards my books I shared with Ron. And I understood his inner conflicts, knowing in time these same struggles and concerns would also descend upon me, even with my much smaller collection. I occasionally suggested approaches to this looming crisis in Ron’s life, but I knew that there were no quick or easy solutions.

Then through these conversations, an ache for Ron grew within my heart, for these struggles and concerns which were very deep within him. But Ron was a dear friend and coming alongside and aching internally for a time for him, was just part of our long-time friendship, a part I willingly embraced, because that also was what old dinosaurs do.

So, these were the things that old dinosaurs talked about. For old dinosaurs may be slow and plodding, but they have lived long lives and in that living, Ron and I gained knowledge and empathy and compassion. And I remember the conversation where we discussed compassion, and we agreed that it was something we learned it came into existence through the observed attitudes and example of our family members or others in the communities in which we gathered, which helped provide the gentler and kinder dispositions of the heart and mind towards those we would meet and learn of their need or distress as we moved along our own path through life.

And so, as a dinosaur, I have tried to clearly express through our Sunday evening conversations the depth of my and Ron’s life together. And as the surviving old dinosaur of a now extinction duo, I intend to keep going on as strong as I can for as long as I am able, living and writing, protesting and demonstrating, and doing what I can to make this world better and safer for my large extended family, especially my 10 grandchildren and one great grandchild that I now have, and my other close friends and their families, and for anyone else who the Lord brings comes across my path. A journey the Lord has provided and prepared me for since I was three and of which Ron had a significant touch much later in my life. Ron was a true friend. He was a magnificent, odd bird, and the best dinosaur I could possibly have had to plod with for a time along the soft, muddy path towards extinction.

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Final Words in Parting

Now even though I miss Ron, I am not grieving as I do not have a sense of deep, deep loss, for what Ron was as a person, I breathed in deeply over our years as close friends, and there are no regrets or loose ends in our relationship.

And in that sense, Ron for me is not really gone. For what I am as a person was settled long ago, but Ron as a friend greatly contributed to the ongoing process of my continually becoming the person I truly am. I believe together we polished, encouraged, and supported each other by carefully listening to each other, without thinking of a response, or impinged upon by other random or pressing stray thoughts. But rather there was just an enjoyment and resting in the time, in the moments, of our Sunday evening conversations and our few physical times together. And thus, over time, we came to find a genuine rest and peace together in our conversations and relationship.

For even though I miss Ron, and it took me some months to adjust to not having the weekly Sunday evening phone conversations, there is not a big hole in my life, there is not something now gone, for within my relationship with Ron, there had been a completeness, a wholeness, something permanent and lasting that was the cause of the rest and peace which still remains in the missing of Ron but without anything gone.

I think Ron and I in our relationship blessed each other with encouragement and rest and support, and these things from Ron remain and will remain with me now as long as I live. There is not a grief within me, but a deep acceptance and peace and thankfulness for what I think we both enjoyed and built in each other. And in this, there is not a saying goodbye. These final words in parting are then just a recognition of what the Lord has given us both which is a blessing and gift beyond measure in my own life for which I am grateful and for which I desired to honor Ron in this posting.

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Ron, My Beloved Friend, Requiescat in Pace

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RESOURCE SECTION

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From the Lips & Voices of Babes, the Young, those Older, Who Long to be Touched by Listening Ears & to Touch Others by Being Heard

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Moments of Seeing & Occasional Pieces – Writing In The Shade Of Trees

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