Baker Family History & Genealogy
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225,404 biographies,
and last name history of the Baker family, shared by
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Baker Last Name History & Origin
History
We don't have any information on the history of the Baker name. Have information to share?
Name Origin
Meaning of Baker means owner ir keeper of the village oven or stove.
Spellings & Pronunciations
Bakkerr (Bu´Kerr
Nationality & Ethnicity
We don't have any information on the nationality / ethnicity of the Baker name. Have information to share?
Famous People named Baker
Marilyn Monroe was originally a baker.
Early Bakers
These are the earliest records we have of the Baker family.
Baker Family Members
Baker Biographies & Family Trees
Find birth, death records, and obituaries of Bakers on AncientFaces:
Sample of 21 Bakers bios
Baker Death Records & Life Expectancy
According to our database of 168,765 people with the last name Baker that have a birth and death date listed:
Life Expectancy
70.4
years
Oldest Bakers
These are the longest-lived members of the Baker family on AncientFaces.
Other Baker Records
Memories
I am looking for family on my dad's side. I do not have much. All I have is my dad is Edward A Baker and his dad is Jerome Baker and he was marry to Artilla Sarne.So if you can help me let me know .I would like to know about my dad's side of the family.You Can e-mail me at [contact link] or you can write me at 1066 Hazelood st. Apt C , St.Paul MN 55106. thank you Julie
Looking for a Eva Baker from Cannelton,Indiana from the 1930's. She new a Ivo Huber family. Looking to find out where she moved to and about her parents and other family history and maybe a picture of her. Probably born around 1900 or so in Vanderburg County In. Evansville area. Contact me Lee Fortner at [contact link]
01-17-2004 E-mail from cousin Reka Clowers:
Regarding family stories, I don't really know many. I do recall a few
stories that Great Grandpa Berry Baker told me about his youth.
One was about a time when his family was relocating.
Grandpa Baker said he couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 and they were
traveling by wagon train. He said he had made friends with a couple of boys
about his same age they were suppose to gather fire wood as the train rolled
during the day. They would gather what they could find and each would throw
it into a designated section on his family's wagon. Depending on the
terrain, they might have to go a little ways out from the wagons and then
run to catch up. One day the boys got to playing and not paying attention
and all of a sudden there was this Indian on horseback in front of them.
Grandpa said the Indian spoke English as well as anyone and he asked the
boys weren't they a little farther away from the wagons than they were
supposed to be. Grandpa said the three of them looked around and couldn't
see anything of the train, not even a little dark spec. The youngest boy
started to cry and all three of them thought they were going to be scalped.
Grandpa said "this big Indian" slid off his horse and squatted down so that
he was eye level with the little boy who was crying and reassured him that
everything was going to be ok and that he knew where the wagon train was and
he would take all of them back. He then put all three boys on the back of
his horse and walked beside them as he lead the horse to the wagon train.
By the time they got back, it was near dusk and too dangerous for them to go
search for firewood. Since the boys had been playing, there was no firewood
to cook with that night so their families had to eat jerky and drink water
for supper. The Indian ate a good hot stew with the wagon master, and left
in the morning when the train left out at sunrise following breakfast. The
boys and their families also got jerky and water for breakfast and lunch
because there were no leftovers from the previous night's supper or that
morning's breakfast.
Supper usually consisted of hot coffee, a good hot stew made either with
some jerky, a rabbit, squirrel or some other small animal or beans (for an
extra special treat a few small chunks of salt pork might be in the beans),
adding some greens and roots picked by the females they walked and tasty hot
cornbread. For breakfast, they usually had hot coffee, lard fried
flapjacks, maybe some molasses, and maybe some fried salt pork or if they
had some left over cornbread from supper the kids had that mixed with hot
water and a little molasses--a sort of hot cereal dish. Or on a real special
occasion, the kids might have some freshly made cornmeal mush with a little
molasses for breakfast. Lunch usually consisted of cold flapjacks leftover
from that mornings' breakfast with either jerky or cold beans, providing the
beans had been meatless the night before, and water to drink.
Grandpa said he and his two friends never again lost sight of the wagons or
played instead of gathering firewood for a number of reasons. Among the
reasons were; one, for a growing, active little boy jerky and water is not
enough, especially when that little boy could smell the food cooking at the
other wagons. Another reason was, the boys had let their families down -
everybody in the family went hungry because they had neglected their chore.
But primarily, meeting up with that Indian had scared the daylights out of
them.
Regarding family stories, I don't really know many. I do recall a few
stories that Great Grandpa Berry Baker told me about his youth.
One was about a time when his family was relocating.
Grandpa Baker said he couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 and they were
traveling by wagon train. He said he had made friends with a couple of boys
about his same age they were suppose to gather fire wood as the train rolled
during the day. They would gather what they could find and each would throw
it into a designated section on his family's wagon. Depending on the
terrain, they might have to go a little ways out from the wagons and then
run to catch up. One day the boys got to playing and not paying attention
and all of a sudden there was this Indian on horseback in front of them.
Grandpa said the Indian spoke English as well as anyone and he asked the
boys weren't they a little farther away from the wagons than they were
supposed to be. Grandpa said the three of them looked around and couldn't
see anything of the train, not even a little dark spec. The youngest boy
started to cry and all three of them thought they were going to be scalped.
Grandpa said "this big Indian" slid off his horse and squatted down so that
he was eye level with the little boy who was crying and reassured him that
everything was going to be ok and that he knew where the wagon train was and
he would take all of them back. He then put all three boys on the back of
his horse and walked beside them as he lead the horse to the wagon train.
By the time they got back, it was near dusk and too dangerous for them to go
search for firewood. Since the boys had been playing, there was no firewood
to cook with that night so their families had to eat jerky and drink water
for supper. The Indian ate a good hot stew with the wagon master, and left
in the morning when the train left out at sunrise following breakfast. The
boys and their families also got jerky and water for breakfast and lunch
because there were no leftovers from the previous night's supper or that
morning's breakfast.
Supper usually consisted of hot coffee, a good hot stew made either with
some jerky, a rabbit, squirrel or some other small animal or beans (for an
extra special treat a few small chunks of salt pork might be in the beans),
adding some greens and roots picked by the females they walked and tasty hot
cornbread. For breakfast, they usually had hot coffee, lard fried
flapjacks, maybe some molasses, and maybe some fried salt pork or if they
had some left over cornbread from supper the kids had that mixed with hot
water and a little molasses--a sort of hot cereal dish. Or on a real special
occasion, the kids might have some freshly made cornmeal mush with a little
molasses for breakfast. Lunch usually consisted of cold flapjacks leftover
from that mornings' breakfast with either jerky or cold beans, providing the
beans had been meatless the night before, and water to drink.
Grandpa said he and his two friends never again lost sight of the wagons or
played instead of gathering firewood for a number of reasons. Among the
reasons were; one, for a growing, active little boy jerky and water is not
enough, especially when that little boy could smell the food cooking at the
other wagons. Another reason was, the boys had let their families down -
everybody in the family went hungry because they had neglected their chore.
But primarily, meeting up with that Indian had scared the daylights out of
them.
(Ellis was a son of Joseph Robert Baker and Nannie Whitt, both born in Tazewell County, Virginia.)
The following tribute to Ellis Baker was published on DAILY CELEBRATIONS at [external link]
ELLIS ADRIAN BAKER
November 17, 1917 - April 18, 2000
Today we celebrate the life of Ellis Adrian Baker, born November 17, 1917, in North Bend Lumber Camp, Nicholas County, West Virginia. His death on April 18, 2000, made the world a poorer place but heaven immensely richer.
For the last forty years of his life, “Mr. Baker," as he was known, was a simple man with simple needs. He was one of those genuine “characters” that small-town America sometimes produces. He tended cattle; he tended bees; but most of all, he tended people.
One of his sisters said she always thought Ellis should have been a priest. Actually, he was a priest of sorts. Found in his wallet after his death was a beat-up old crucifix made of the basest sort of metal, tarnished on the side: an apt symbol, for his mission was to the poor, the different, the retarded, the unaccepted, the widow.
He never owned a home. At least that’s how the world saw it. Actually, he had two “homes”...his electric shop on Monroe Street in Alderson, West Virginia, where anyone of any race, class or social standing was welcome, and his “home” at Alderson Hospitality House, a Christian mission to the families of women in the Federal Prison at Alderson.
He never married, nor had children. But other people’s children loved him. They could sense that he was an authentic person. Nothing phony there! A little girl once told him, “You sure are ugly.” He just grinned, and in about a minute, that little girl was sitting on his lap, talking as though she had found her best friend. And she probably had.
If he had two of anything, he would give one away. His blood relatives knew that if they gave him anything for his birthday or Christmas, most likely he would give it to someone else. He gave his time, his talent, his labor, and most of his money away.
There are lots of “Mr. Baker” stories, some just now coming to light. One woman related the story of how her first husband was killed, leaving her a widow with small children. When her washing machine broke down, “Mr. Baker” fixed it but wouldn’t take any money, saying “This will help you out a little.” No one will ever know just how many people he helped. He never bragged. He never boasted. He just went quietly about his life, helping those who happened across his path.
At eighty-two years of age, he was often found late in the evening working on someone’s furnace, most likely for free. By the world’s standards, he was a poor man. He died with a few dollars in his battered wallet and a few meager possessions in the room that had been his home for thirty-five years.
Ellis could have been a very wealthy man, and at one time, had a Lincoln Continental, a motorcycle, and a closet full of expensive suits and shoes. But somewhere along the way, he gave up that life. From then on, he traveled “light." For those who knew and loved him, he was the closest thing to a saint most of us will ever know.
Written by his sister-in-law, Dee
Copyright © 1999-2003 Cool Pup, All Rights Reserved
The following tribute to Ellis Baker was published on DAILY CELEBRATIONS at [external link]
ELLIS ADRIAN BAKER
November 17, 1917 - April 18, 2000
Today we celebrate the life of Ellis Adrian Baker, born November 17, 1917, in North Bend Lumber Camp, Nicholas County, West Virginia. His death on April 18, 2000, made the world a poorer place but heaven immensely richer.
For the last forty years of his life, “Mr. Baker," as he was known, was a simple man with simple needs. He was one of those genuine “characters” that small-town America sometimes produces. He tended cattle; he tended bees; but most of all, he tended people.
One of his sisters said she always thought Ellis should have been a priest. Actually, he was a priest of sorts. Found in his wallet after his death was a beat-up old crucifix made of the basest sort of metal, tarnished on the side: an apt symbol, for his mission was to the poor, the different, the retarded, the unaccepted, the widow.
He never owned a home. At least that’s how the world saw it. Actually, he had two “homes”...his electric shop on Monroe Street in Alderson, West Virginia, where anyone of any race, class or social standing was welcome, and his “home” at Alderson Hospitality House, a Christian mission to the families of women in the Federal Prison at Alderson.
He never married, nor had children. But other people’s children loved him. They could sense that he was an authentic person. Nothing phony there! A little girl once told him, “You sure are ugly.” He just grinned, and in about a minute, that little girl was sitting on his lap, talking as though she had found her best friend. And she probably had.
If he had two of anything, he would give one away. His blood relatives knew that if they gave him anything for his birthday or Christmas, most likely he would give it to someone else. He gave his time, his talent, his labor, and most of his money away.
There are lots of “Mr. Baker” stories, some just now coming to light. One woman related the story of how her first husband was killed, leaving her a widow with small children. When her washing machine broke down, “Mr. Baker” fixed it but wouldn’t take any money, saying “This will help you out a little.” No one will ever know just how many people he helped. He never bragged. He never boasted. He just went quietly about his life, helping those who happened across his path.
At eighty-two years of age, he was often found late in the evening working on someone’s furnace, most likely for free. By the world’s standards, he was a poor man. He died with a few dollars in his battered wallet and a few meager possessions in the room that had been his home for thirty-five years.
Ellis could have been a very wealthy man, and at one time, had a Lincoln Continental, a motorcycle, and a closet full of expensive suits and shoes. But somewhere along the way, he gave up that life. From then on, he traveled “light." For those who knew and loved him, he was the closest thing to a saint most of us will ever know.
Written by his sister-in-law, Dee
Copyright © 1999-2003 Cool Pup, All Rights Reserved
Roanoke Times, The (VA) - November 12, 1991
Franklin D. Baker Sr., age 57, of Roanoke, died Tuesday, November 5, 1991, in the VA Hospital in Salem. He is survived by his wife, Jean Baker; four sons, Ronald Baker, Roanoke; Wesley Baker, Bedford; Ricky Baker and Frankie Baker, both of Roanoke; two daughters, Joann Baker, Roanoke; Connie Mays, Goodview; two brothers, Jimmy Baker, Salem; Bennett Baker, Pearisburg; two sisters, Betty Caldwell, Salem; Ella Mae Williams, Peterstown, W.Va.; five stepchildren; nine grandchildren. Graveside services were held Friday, November 8 at 2:00 p.m. at Orchard Cemetery, Ballard, W.Va., with Minister Richard Brown officiating.
Franklin D. Baker Sr., age 57, of Roanoke, died Tuesday, November 5, 1991, in the VA Hospital in Salem. He is survived by his wife, Jean Baker; four sons, Ronald Baker, Roanoke; Wesley Baker, Bedford; Ricky Baker and Frankie Baker, both of Roanoke; two daughters, Joann Baker, Roanoke; Connie Mays, Goodview; two brothers, Jimmy Baker, Salem; Bennett Baker, Pearisburg; two sisters, Betty Caldwell, Salem; Ella Mae Williams, Peterstown, W.Va.; five stepchildren; nine grandchildren. Graveside services were held Friday, November 8 at 2:00 p.m. at Orchard Cemetery, Ballard, W.Va., with Minister Richard Brown officiating.
Roanoke Times, The (VA) - July 24, 1996
BAKER, Ernest Bennett, 74, of Pearisburg, died Tuesday, July 23, 1996. Mr. Baker was a ve teran of World War II and served in China, Burma and India. Mr. Baker was the retired Animal Control Officer for Giles County. He was a member of the Green Valley United Methodist Church. Mr. Baker was born in Ballard, W. Va. on November 28, 1921 and was a son of the late Lamar S. Baker and Hattie Miller Baker. Besides his parents he was preceded in death by his wife Mae Stephens Baker. He is survived by a daughter and son-in-law, Vickie and Mike Collins, Pearisburg; one brother, James W. Baker, Salem; two sisters, Mrs. David P. (Ella Mae) Williams, Peterstown, W. Va., Mrs. James R. (Betty) Caldwell, Salem; two granddaughters, Jil and Traci Collins, Pearisburg. Funeral services will be conducted Thursday, July 25, 1996, at 2 p.m. in the Givens Funeral Chapel, Pearisburg, with the Rev. Larry Patton and the Rev. David Olinger officiating, with interment in Birchlawn Burial Park. The family will receive friends at the Givens Funeral Home Wednesday evening from 6 to 9 p.m.
BAKER, Ernest Bennett, 74, of Pearisburg, died Tuesday, July 23, 1996. Mr. Baker was a ve teran of World War II and served in China, Burma and India. Mr. Baker was the retired Animal Control Officer for Giles County. He was a member of the Green Valley United Methodist Church. Mr. Baker was born in Ballard, W. Va. on November 28, 1921 and was a son of the late Lamar S. Baker and Hattie Miller Baker. Besides his parents he was preceded in death by his wife Mae Stephens Baker. He is survived by a daughter and son-in-law, Vickie and Mike Collins, Pearisburg; one brother, James W. Baker, Salem; two sisters, Mrs. David P. (Ella Mae) Williams, Peterstown, W. Va., Mrs. James R. (Betty) Caldwell, Salem; two granddaughters, Jil and Traci Collins, Pearisburg. Funeral services will be conducted Thursday, July 25, 1996, at 2 p.m. in the Givens Funeral Chapel, Pearisburg, with the Rev. Larry Patton and the Rev. David Olinger officiating, with interment in Birchlawn Burial Park. The family will receive friends at the Givens Funeral Home Wednesday evening from 6 to 9 p.m.
Dear everyone,
My name's Antonio and write from an Italian city.
I decided with a lot of shyness to write you.
I have always been a great fan of martial arts movie especially about Bruce Lee ones. In one of Bruce Lee movie there was an actor called Robert Bob ( some guys called him Huckabaa) Baker. I don't know a lot of him. I know that probably he was born in the Bay Area California and had the chance to work out with Bruce Lee ( he wasn't so famous again) and James Yimm Lee in Oakland,Ca during the 60s.
Probably he moved in L.A.
I think he was born in Bay area too in 1940 and died in 1993.
Hope you can help me.
Antonio from Italy
My name's Antonio and write from an Italian city.
I decided with a lot of shyness to write you.
I have always been a great fan of martial arts movie especially about Bruce Lee ones. In one of Bruce Lee movie there was an actor called Robert Bob ( some guys called him Huckabaa) Baker. I don't know a lot of him. I know that probably he was born in the Bay Area California and had the chance to work out with Bruce Lee ( he wasn't so famous again) and James Yimm Lee in Oakland,Ca during the 60s.
Probably he moved in L.A.
I think he was born in Bay area too in 1940 and died in 1993.
Hope you can help me.
Antonio from Italy
Dear everyone,
My name's Antonio and write from an Italian city.
I decided with a lot of shyness to write you.
I have always been a great fan of martial arts movie especially about Bruce Lee ones. In one of Bruce Lee movie there was an actor called Robert Bob ( some guys called him Huckabaa) Baker. I don't know a lot of him. I know that probably he was born in the Bay Area California and had the chance to work out with Bruce Lee ( he wasn't so famous again) and James Yimm Lee in Oakland,Ca during the 60s.
Probably he moved in L.A.
I think he was born in Bay area too in 1940 and died in 1993.
Hope you can help me.
Antonio from Italy
My name's Antonio and write from an Italian city.
I decided with a lot of shyness to write you.
I have always been a great fan of martial arts movie especially about Bruce Lee ones. In one of Bruce Lee movie there was an actor called Robert Bob ( some guys called him Huckabaa) Baker. I don't know a lot of him. I know that probably he was born in the Bay Area California and had the chance to work out with Bruce Lee ( he wasn't so famous again) and James Yimm Lee in Oakland,Ca during the 60s.
Probably he moved in L.A.
I think he was born in Bay area too in 1940 and died in 1993.
Hope you can help me.
Antonio from Italy