Postmaster Extraordinaire
by Jill Lundquist

The community of Barrytown recently gathered at our old post office to celebrate the life of Gordon Baker, who died on July 10, 2011, at the age of 85. Gordon served as postmaster of Barrytown from 1978 until 2000, and during those years he was truly at the hub of hamlet life. Everyone stopped by the little post office by the train tracks at the bottom of Station Hill Road—whether to greet neighbors, exchange gossip, or even pick up letters and packages. The historic, columned building was filled with used books and historic memorabilia, cigarette smoke, and mountainous piles of mail. In cold weather a true “hot stove league” of residents gathered daily in chairs round the woodstove to chat and share Barrytown news.

On Halloween, the town’s children would assemble in costumes at the top of Wildey Road to parade down the hill through the brilliant fall leaves. Awaiting them at the bottom was a huge bonfire, apples for dunking, marshmallows for roasting, and a variety of treats and games. Gordon, as always course, presided over the festivities from his post office window, smoking a cigarette all the while.

And each Christmas season, Barrytown folks would parade down the hill to the post office, stopping at each house to sing carols for their neighbors. A roaring bonfire once again awaited them, as well as hot cider and other treats. Caroling continued around the bonfire, while angelic sounds of Christmas songs wafted out from the post office where Peg Gummere and her music students played.

Gordon was at the heart of all these activities. Among the magical gifts he gave his Barrytown neighbors were replies from Santa Claus to any letter posted by a Barrytown child to the North Pole. These letters were replete with detailed knowledge about the child and family, as when Santa advised our children one year that their father should get up on the roof to pound down that rusty nail that tore his pants the last time he flew through town. Another year, a strap of sleigh bells that had fallen from Santa’s sleigh wondrously appeared in the snow in our front yard. Yet another time, Santa alerted our kids to look out for one of Prancer’s antlers that had accidentally fallen off when the reindeer had rubbed his antlers against our chimney: should it be found, Gordon at the post office would surely know how to get it back to Santa! Needless to say, when the antlers turned up in the side field, our wide-eyed children wasted no time getting them down to Santa’s helper, the honorary mayor of Barrytown.

We truly miss Gordon, and those wonderful days when community life revolved around our little post office and its postmaster extraordinaire.