On 30 March 2018, the science of mammalogy and the American Society of Mammalogists lost one of the most influential figures of the last half-century. Robert James Baker died quietly… Click to show full abstract
On 30 March 2018, the science of mammalogy and the American Society of Mammalogists lost one of the most influential figures of the last half-century. Robert James Baker died quietly at his home in Lubbock, Texas (Fig. 1). He was born on 8 April 1942 to James Simeon Baker and Laura Cooper in Warren, Arkansas. His father was killed during World War II and his mother remarried, resulting in his growing up with six halfsiblings. According to Robert’s autobiography in Going afield (330—number refers to specific publication in “Bibliography”), he spent a good deal of his youth with his grandparents on a 100-acre farm in the West Gulf Coastal Plain of southeastern Arkansas. He identified his maternal grandmother, “Grandma Rosie,” as his best friend and his greatest influence during these years. His marriage to Jean Joyner on 19 August 1961 ended in divorce in 1975, but the marriage resulted in a daughter, April Baker-Padilla, and two grandchildren, Jason Baker and Faith Padilla. Robert was married to his wife of 39 years, Laura Kyle (M.D.), on 28 May 1978 in Lubbock. Their son, Robert Kyle Baker, preceded his father in death, which was a tragedy from which neither Robert nor Laura ever completely recovered. Robert was always more than willing to admit to his “type A” personality and he seemed to try to live daily by his motto “anything worth doing is worth overdoing.” He must have always been a human dynamo, but with the diagnosis of type 1 diabetes while in the field in Alamos, Sonora, in the summer of 1966, he went into hyperdrive. He did not reduce his life goals, but instead decided that they would need to be accomplished in much less time. At the time of his diagnosis, diabetes typically was responsible for shortening life expectancy by one-third and could cause loss of eyesight, amputation of limbs, kidney failure, heart disease, and loss of nerve function. Robert stated in his autobiography, “Diabetes has been such a constant and obnoxious companion that it has often been a major statement of who I am” (330). Robert seemed to have a clock ticking at the back of his mind and everything needed to be moving at top speed. Anytime a colleague or student needed to repeat an experiment, his question would be: “Why is there always time to do it over but never enough to do it right the first time?” Anyone who accompanied Robert into the field could expect at least two things—Robert would do more work than you no matter how hard you worked and Robert would have a low blood sugar crisis at some point. The insulin control of diabetes, particularly in the early years using insulin from pigs, was imperfect at best. Colleagues and students who went to the field with Robert soon learned to pack a couple of extra cans of Coca-Cola, a bag of caramel candies, and Snickers bars, or to be prepared for a highspeed drive (always by Robert) to the nearest Allsup’s or some local grog shop dispensing soft drinks. However, ultimately Robert won the race with diabetes, living longer than predicted and accomplishing most of his life goals. Age and accumulating health issues finally slowed the engine shortly after his retirement from Texas Tech University. Laura was constantly at his side until the end, giving loving and professional care. Robert began his collegiate education at Ouachita Baptist University in 1959 on an academic scholarship. He described his experience there as “nearly ending my college education” (330). Fortunately, he transferred to University of Arkansas at Monticello (then Arkansas A&M College) where he graduated in 1963. While at the university he was mentored by two professors— Journal of Mammalogy, 99(4):983–1012, 2018 DOI:10.1093/jmammal/gyy072 Published online July 20, 2018
               
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