KEN BAKER

I was born in Tingley, Iowa, not in a hospital, on November 14, 1943.  I was the 9th of 10 children born to Lyman and Helen Bacon Baker.  Both my parents came from families who were original settlers in southern Iowa.  The Bakers moved from Somerset, England, to Dyersville, Iowa, and then settled in Decatur County, Iowa, in 1871.  The farm is still in the Baker name, presently owned by a cousin, like third removed.  My mother's family, the Kilgores and the Bacons, were original settlers in Union County, near Kent, Iowa, in 1854.

There were seven boys and three girls in our family, with 28 years difference between the oldest and youngest.   My father's first wife died and Mother helped raise their two daughters, my half-sisters.   We moved to Mt. Ayr for a short time, and, in about 1947 or '48, to Kellerton. By that time my two oldest sisters had moved away from home.

My dad was the Ringgold County Road Foreman. We wouldn't have considered that we were well off but, because we raised big gardens and chickens, we always enjoyed lots of good food.  Lots of food and lots of fun. I don’t recall any negatives at all, growing up in Kellerton. We were the financially poor Bakers, but thought of by farm relatives as the "City Slickers of Kellerton." We all worked as soon as we were old enough to mow lawns, work in the grocery store or whatever jobs we might find.  We didn’t expect other than to work.  Everybody did their part.  Neither of our parents was extensively educated but we were encouraged, particularly by our mother, to get a good education.

We had wonderful school teachers!   One of the most memorable was Mrs. Marjorie Young of Leon, who taught English and literature.   She is still living in Leon.  As I look back on the education system, I appreciate what we had.  Granted that we didn’t have all the benefits that are offered now in our elementary schools system; but we had the 3 R's and teachers who were worthy of a tremendous amount of respect, who taught us many lessons in subtle ways.  Day to day the assumptions were that we would do well, which caused us to do well.  It was not written or talked about.  It was the way life was. We were driven by the expectations of those around us.

Son Mark is living in Osceola and just yesterday asked about Nixon’s The Six Crisis. Mrs. Young gave me a $5 gift when I graduated from Grand Valley High School, and I bought that book.   She and her husband were active in the Republican Party and we all talked politics a lot in her classes.  She always liked to play the devil's advocate to make us think through our opinions.  They gave me tickets to the floor of the 1960 Republican Convention.  I went to Chicago by train, was there for five days all by myself, at age 16.  I had never been to a big city, but I stayed at the Palmer House and rode the El (elevated train). My brother Darrell was stationed at the Great Lakes Naval Base and I took the El out to see him.  I wasn't supposed to be there so he stashed me away in a corner of the bunk room at night, and we got by with it.

I often think of those school days.  If it had not been for the encouragement of teachers and the school atmosphere, the limited ability to get into trouble, I’m not sure where a lot of us would be today. They opened up the world to us.  They opened our eyes.  We are such a rich nation!  We have so much!  We keep reading that the gap between the rich and the poor is widening, with the middle class being squeezed out.  I consider that a political statement and I don't believe it.  Look at what even those we consider "poor" have in comparison to those in what have been called "third world countries." We have a lot.  

In terms of assets, even our poorest are rich.  It is a big mistake for us to talk negatively about this.  We have to stop believing that we are poor.  Having grown up in southern Iowa, I know that is our tendency, but we have talked about it so many years, to so many people, that too many people have come to believe it.

I had an experience on RAGBRAI (Register's Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa) of meeting several riders who lived in downtown Manhattan.  They had hardly known Iowa existed until an Iowa friend of theirs encouraged them to participate in RAGBRAI.  Well, this kind of trip really acquaints riders with Iowa!  We were riding just outside Maquoketa, near the Mississippi River.  There were about 40 people from Manhattan in this group, one being originally from Maquoketa, where his mother still lived. They arrived at their Iowa friend's mother's house to camp out for the evening and they couldn't believe that she had left the house and left it unlocked for the riders to use.  Three of her neighbors had done the same thing. These people from the big city of Manhattan couldn't believe it! Such a belief in the basic honesty of people- mostly strangers- was beyond their experience. One of them remarked to me, "This is a wonderful state; one of the best kept secrets around and maybe you want to keep it that way."  Outsiders appreciate Iowa, sometimes, more than we do.

Last night at a Rotary meeting, five young people from Uruguay and Honduras, members of a Rotary Group Study Exchange, gave the program.   One of them said that six months ago, if he had been given $1,000 and told that he could go anywhere, he would not have thought of Iowa.  Because he has been in this exchange program, he came to Iowa and fell in love with the state. Now, if he were made that offer, he would choose Iowa.

Think of our food production!  In many areas of our country, food is taken for granted, and as a part of a grocery store.  But lots of it came from right here in Iowa.  Iowans and other Midwesterners are much more worldly than people, say on the east and west coasts.  They believe they are the world and live it, and probably close their minds to the rest of us. We have to seek it
as we know there is more to our world than growing corn and beans, cows and pigs.

I and the people I associate with, who have a goal of promoting our area, will probably continue to struggle all our lives with the concept that we don't have as much as others. Hopefully, we can convince a few people that living south of Highway 92 (my designated Mason­ Dixon Line) doesn't mean we are poor.   In the 60's we didn't have all that we have now, and we were always told we could do better.

This is a time when we live in a busy atmosphere with computers, the Internet, television and all the rest.  Our minds are challenged but we don't take the time to go beyond our own schedules. It is easy for parents to solve problems or answer their children’s' needs or wants by writing a check.  They don't need money as badly as they need mentoring. I don't want to go back to the 50's and 60's, but I see all of this as an extra challenge to educators and parents to go beyond their own cocoon of success.

I graduated in 1962 from Grand Valley, which is soon to be history.  This school was a consolidation of Beaconsfield, Ellston, Grand River, and Kellerton schools.  I had worked from 7th grade through high school for Howard Pollard, then the Sandage family and then the Drake family in the grocery store in Kellerton.  Howard was the first non-relative adult that I admired and looked up to.  What Howard did, I thought was fine.  That extended even to habits. He loved coffee. I hated coffee but was determined to learn to drink it, and did. Howard was one of many who encouraged me.

After high school, I had an opportunity to go to work as a typist in the F.B.I. in Washington, D.C.  I got the job in July, 1962, and moved to Washington. This was a good job.  I was single and met all kinds of people. My roommate was from Texas and I made friends with people from Pennsylvania, Virginia and West Virginia. We saw New York, the Atlantic Ocean, and places all up and down the east coast.

I came back in the fall of 1963 to enroll at the University of Iowa but this was before student loans, grandiose grant programs, and I couldn't afford it. Instead, I found a job at Dahl’s' Grocery Store in Des Moines. A year later my brother, who had served in the Navy for eight years, went to work for a small loan company. In 1964 I was able, through his help, to go to work for same company.

Pat was born and reared south of Mt.Ayr on a farm. Her parents are Vivian and Mae Wells. Her mother is presently living in a nursing home in Mt. Ayr. We met through mutual friends when Pat was going to cosmetology school in Des Moines.  My friend from Kellerton knew the Wells girls who were living in Des Moines. I happened to go to their apartment with this friend and that was how we met.  We were married on November 21, 1964. Pat finished school but never practiced cosmetology. I continued working for the small loan company at 12th and Locust and at East Gate shopping center in Des Moines.

My mother died unexpectedly in May, 1966, of a problem we would never hear about today - a burst appendix. My youngest brother, Terry, was still in high school, a sophomore. Dad had just retired.

Our son, Christopher, was born in May, 1967.  At that time we enjoyed telling people we lived "south of Grand," regarded as an elite area.  Actually, we were in an upstairs apartment in a house just behind what is now the governor’s mansion; then it was the Hubbell Estate.

In 1968, the company transferred us to Cedar Rapids, where I had my first manager's job. We lived there from '68 to '69, when the company promoted me to district manager and transferred me to Kansas City, Missouri.  This was the first time that my real duties involved multiple offices, multiple employees and in multiple locations - Leavenworth and Lawrence, Kansas; Independence, Missouri and the rest of our offices were in Kansas City.

In 1970 we built our first house in Blue Springs, a suburb of Kansas City. We didn't have much money; we put a little cash down and worked out the rest by finishing the house ourselves. We spent the next several months staining woodwork and cupboards, painting, and so on.  Those were fun times and good times.

Our son Mark was born in September, 1971, in Independence, Missouri.  In January, '72, the company promoted me to a larger district with more responsibilities, in Chicago, Illinois. Looking back, I can see that taking that transfer was a big mistake. I should have realized when I asked for more money and they gave it to me that should have been our first clue that maybe this wasn't a move we should make. We rented a townhouse in Hinsdale. The offices I was responsible for were in Oak Park and Hoffman Estates, Illinois, Crown Pointe and Gary, Indiana, and the rest in Chicago proper.

We were not particularly happy there.  In considering the move, we had rationalized that we were already living in a large city, what would be so hard about adjusting to Chicago?  We discovered, by comparison, that Kansas City was just a little cow town as compared to Chicago. Chicago was very expensive. Even though I had a sizeable increase in salary, the move hadn't improved our life style and within a year I asked for a transfer back to Kansas City. In fact, I put it on an either/or basis. Either I was transferred or I was quitting the company. The company moved us back.

By this time, the fall of 1972, Christopher had started kindergarten in North Kansas City, but we were not overly impressed with the school system in Missouri.  We found ourselves wanting to come back to our Iowa roots.  We talked about how much we were transferring and moving. We realized that in my present situation, in order to go up in the company, we would have to move a lot.  That meant moving the kids and changing schools.   We resolved this by deciding that I would start looking for a banking job.

I left my finance company job in the fall of '72 and took a job with the Guaranty State Bank and Trust in Kansas City, Kansas. O.k., I was in the banking business; and in those days, after the successful career I'd had, I had to take a salary cut; but I believed it was a good career move.  I continued looking for a banking job in Iowa.

I stayed with Guaranty Bank for a year and about this time I was able to connect with the Garst family who owned the Home State Bank in Jefferson, Iowa.  We moved in '73, when Christopher was in 1st grade and Mark was a little more than two.  My serious career in banking had begun.

It was the beginning of some wonderful years.  We had returned to Iowa.  I felt comfortable that I was moving along in my career.  We had a growing family. Between the president of the bank, Gerald Clause, and John Chrystal, they got Pat and me on the track of community activities. It was assumed by the Garst family that employees would be community activists.  There has probably not been another banking family that compares to them in their involvement, doing it quietly, but having a major impact.

Jefferson is a social town.  We made lots of friends; in fact, that is where we probably made the largest number of long time friends.  Of all the places we have been, that is where our deepest friendships still are. It was in Jefferson that we became active in the United Methodist Church.  I had grown up in the Methodist Church but Pat had grown up in the Reorganized Church of Latter Day Saints.

In that bank we had a group of six loan officers. We were all about the same age, with similar talents.  We were all progressive minded regarding our careers and the community. How did the owners ever pick so many? As the years went by, the question of advancement posed a problem. It was pretty well accepted that none of the six us of would become president of the bank.

In the summer of 1983, my first bank presidency job opportunity opened up in Fort Madison.  Christopher was going into his junior year of high school and Mark was entering junior high (7th grade).  It was an excellent career move except also tumultuous.  There were complications.  What should we do with the home we owned, and what about Christopher's graduation from high school? The solution to the latter question seemed to be to have him stay with friends in Jefferson, and graduate with his classmates from Jefferson High School.

We moved and did meet lots of good people in Fort Madison.  We probably had some unreasonable expectations that life would continue as it had in Jefferson. We came to realize that no two towns are alike. We often felt that we were not living in Iowa. News from adjoining states seemed more relevant than what was happening in our own state.  Our family was divided. All in all, we don't look back on it as a pleasant time.

Then in early 1985, we had a call from Jack Pester, a Jefferson native. I don't recall how we became acquainted originally. He and Bob Murray, who was with Hawkeye Bancorporation, and a fellow by the name of John Goodenow owned a bank in Colfax, Iowa.  This was during the farm crisis and a lot of Iowa banks were struggling with the difficulties of customers and mends.

They were looking for a bank CEO (Chief Executive Office) for the Colfax bank and had heard that I was anxious to get back to central Iowa.  They came to Fort Madison looking for me. It was a difficult proposal to say no to and we decided to move.

I assumed the presidency of the First National Bank in Colfax in February, 1985. Christopher graduated that May from Jefferson High School. We had not yet sold the house in Jefferson and so, during this late winter and early spring of 1985, we finally sold the house in Jefferson and at the same time sold our house in Fort Madison, unfortunately, at quite a loss. Mark finished 8th grade at Colfax-Mingo and we prepared ourselves to stay put until Mark graduated from high school.

We worked hard at cleaning up the Colfax bank, taking it from a very troubled bank to an eventual sale for a large premium. Unfortunately, Jack Pester had sold his oil company, subsequently moved to Houston, Texas, and so decided to sell his Iowa holdings. He sold the Colfax bank to a couple who bought it for their son and I wasn't the son.

For first time since I had graduated from high school, I faced the possibility that I wouldn't have a job. It was just incomprehensible! We had bought a house in Des Moines expecting to live there and run the bank in Colfax.  We were to close on the house in April of 1989, but early that month it was announced that the bank had been sold.   There I was!  Not sure I would have a job, two sons in college. For about 30 days, things were scary! I'm not sure the rest of the family was as concerned as I; but that time was hard!

I began discussions with the new owner of the Clarke County State Bank, John Vucurevich of Rapid City, South Dakota.  Earl Curtis, the bank's president, had announced his retirement as of December, 1990.  They were looking for someone who would take over the presidency at that time.  So, I took the job, and we have always felt fortunate that the opportunity came along. We are closer to our roots than we ever dreamed we would be.

We moved to Osceola in June 1989.  A month before that Mark graduated from high school and had taken a summer job at the Colfax bank. He stayed with friends and then entered the University of Iowa that fall. Christopher was starting his 4th year at the University of Iowa. His major was English. Mark's was history.  That was fine with us. We wanted the boys to be free spirits and not be bound closely to their father's choice of careers.  Christopher had always commented that it wasn't much fun growing up as a banker's son. In his mind, the public expectations were somewhat difficult for a teenager. Now, I always thought Mark might go into banking. He was always my shadow.

At the same time that we moved to Osceola, Pat’s dad was having health problems and shortly after I started at the Clarke County State Bank, he took seriously ill and died in August. Taking care of family matters took precedence over a new career with Clarke County State Bank and melding into the Osceola community was slowed for our first couple of months in Osceola.

Taking over my duties in the bank was a great experience.  We have a great staff, and our customer base, in my opinion, is the best in the world.  We quickly developed a large circle of friends, became active in the Osceola United Methodist Church, the Clarke County Development Corporation and lots of other community organizations.  There is a huge plateful of things that we are interested in and would like to do for our town and south central Iowa.

Christopher graduated in August of 1990, from the University of Iowa.  He was through school, had earned fairly good grades, but still didn't know what he wanted to do with his life. We offered him training in the bank in Osceola. The following year, the fall of 1991, he married his long-time friend, Kim Brockway, also a University of Iowa graduate, originally from Pella, Iowa. After they were married, he took a loan officer position with a bank in Oxford just outside Iowa City) and Kim started work in the trust department of the Iowa State Bank and Trust, Iowa City. Today, Kim is still with the same bank, and Christopher is now with the First National Bank, Iowa City and manages their Coralville Office.

Mark graduated from the University of Iowa in August of 1993.  He had also done well in college; but, like his brother, he graduated still not knowing what he wanted to do.  He went to work in the main office of the First National Bank in Iowa City, and then, in 1995, went to Iowa State Bank and Trust (where Kim is working).  While working for these Iowa City banks, he got hung up in the operational side of banking, which was not too much to his liking. We made the same offer to him that we had to Christopher.  So this summer (1997) he is going to be working as a loan officer at the Jeffrey's Drive Office of our bank.

This makes us a family of bankers which is lots of fun for me; but I sometimes feel sorry for Pat having a husband, two sons, and a daughter-in-law in banking. Bank talk can get a bit overpowering sometimes. We really never dreamed our boys would choose this career.  But they are good bankers.  They like what they are doing.  Sometimes it scares me to realize how much Christopher is like me, not only as a banker but also as a community activist in Coralville/Iowa City. Mark has yet to settle in one place but, with his interest in politics, I think he'll one day be a real community activist, too.

Since we have lived in Osceola, been associated with the bank and with John Vucurevich, we've had the opportunity to do more traveling than in all the years of our married life. He owns 13 banks and likes to bring together all of the CEOs.  We used to meet twice a year, now annually; but, where it had been for four days each trip, now it is seven or eight days. And we meet in resort areas from coast to coast throughout the United States and Mexico. We have become well acquainted with his family and dozens of other people in his circle of bankers and friends, who have become our friends even if we may live and work far apart.

One of the real pleasures of working with John is that he has continued my opportunity to work with a shareholder of a bank that is community minded. John has come to realize, at 84, that he might be mortal and has made arrangements that all of his bank holdings will become a part of a John T. Vucurevich Foundation when he is gone.  All of the dividends will be up­ streamed to designated charities in the communities where these bank holdings are located.

This has done two things for Bakers- when John is no longer with us we will still have a job because the banks will go into the foundation, and will not be sold.  And a lot of the profits from Clarke County State Bank will be funneled back to South Central Iowa to make life better for everybody.  Pat and I are not wealthy in the sense of having lots of money, but we have been fortunate to be associated with people like John and it is fun to carry his torch to be a part of improving lifestyles of those around us.

One of the big lessons to be learned in philanthropy is that handing out grandiose dollars will not fix everything. It is difficult to know if you are doing the right thing. It is possible, in giving, to defeat the intent and purpose.  I see this in relation to our bank scholarships given out each year. We believe that those who really want to go to school will find a way to get there on their own, particularly the first year or so.  Therefore, our scholarships are not paid until the students' third semester in college. During the first year, they will get a taste of what is involved and we choose to encourage them in the second year.

Another way that John's philosophy becomes evident is that each year, through his foundation, he brings to Rapid City, South Dakota, some world renowned speaker.  This is usually someone of high stature.  One year the person was Margaret Thatcher, a year or two after she had left office. John always insists that the entire population have the opportunity to attend the event, not just a select few.  But tickets are not free.  On the Thatcher occasion, I think the price was something like $3 so that everyone could afford to come. In other words, he offers opportunities, but he also makes sure that there is some effort by those who will take advantage of those opportunities.

I had mentioned RAGBRAI. In 1980, when Christopher was 13, he and five of his 13- year-old friends wanted to go but had to be accompanied by an adult.   I was willing to go with them.  At that time there were only about 2,000 riders, which I thought was big. Beginning then, after that first ride, I was more enthusiastic than the 13 -year-olds. In 1981 we went again. By '82, the boys were 14 going on 15.  They were doing summer things so it wasn't possible to get the group together.  I didn't go again until 1992 when the route came through Osceola. Christopher came from Iowa City and rode two days. I didn't go in '93; but in '94 Chris and Kim both decided to go.  They acquainted me with an Iowa City bike club and we have gone every year since '94. RAGBRAI has grown from the 2,000, when we first started, to about 7,500 bicyclists and the support entourage doubles that, so that in all there are about 15,000 people traveling across Iowa for seven days.

RAGBRAI was from the first and has remained one of the few purely-for-fun things I do. I get away from career, telephones, and meetings for seven days. Nobody can find me.  I'm with a wonderful group of people that have the same experiences.

I recommend it as one of the best ways to get away, out-of-doors, see Iowa, and meet new people.  We are always talking or riding with someone - from all over the U.S. and the world. It is a wonderful experience. There are people who don't believe that they could ride 500 miles on those little seats, but I assure them that the rear end has amazing healing powers over­ night. Anybody who can ride a bike for 20 minutes can do this. There are food stands every­ where, towns all along the way.  This is the way to learn your state and totally appreciate the richness of the land and of the people.

The "recipes" I would recommend for a full life have been mentioned throughout this story, in the experiences I have had and the people I have met. I don’t consider that I am an old person, but I have seen many changes in my lifetime, and probably growing up in southern Iowa has had the largest impact, particularly after being away for 30 years, then returning. There is wholesomeness about the people, a work ethic, and a sense of integrity and trust that is lacking in many places.  All this has had an impact on my life and values.

The expectation of parents, other family members, neighbors and teachers was that the children within their sphere of influence would do well. They helped shape my life and build my character.  They taught me that good fortune isn't automatic, that life wouldn't be handed to me on a platter but it was all there if I would go get it.

Talk all you want about how government and others can save the world from hunger, poor education, poor health, and so on; but the real savior of our future generations lies only with relatives, friends, parents and teachers who care about those that surround them, mentor to the less fortunate, and do for us what no one else can. Family values, caring families and interested families WILL make the difference. Government cannot legislate personal success.

Return to main page for Recipes for Living 1997 by Fern Underwood

Last Revised May 6, 2012