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