June 18, 2000

Mistreated Boy, Medal of Honor Man

By LINDA HICKS
Searcy Daily Citizen,
June 18, 2000

Homer Baker was hungry, but the pain in his stomach wasn't as strong as the hurt he was feeling in his heart the day he left his mother's side at the age of three.

Yet he had another option. It was during the Depression and his father left his mother alone to feed three children.

There was no food in the house, and there hadn't been any for several days. A desperate move, he said, his mother told his sister, who was about seven at the time, to take him to a relatives' house and leave him
in their care.

"I didn't have any shoes. My feet were hurting, and I was bawling," he said. About halfway through their 10-mile trek, they stopped at one relative's house maybe to ask for a drink of water, possibly thinking
they would be rescued. They received a negative response.

"She told us that we had to hurry up and get out of there because they didn't want us around," he said.

Baker, now 70 and a resident of Kensett, didn't fully understand what was going on then. When they arrived at the home of the relative they were originally told to go to, his sister vanished, leaving him alone
with a new family.

It would be years before he would learn that his sister went to live with another family. And his youngest sister was sent to Michigan to live with his father's relatives.

His new family already included seven children.

"They were pretty rough on me," he said. He was expected to work alongside the older children and he wasn't allowed to attend school.

For the next several years, his life was like a roller coaster with more lows than highs. Once during that time, his father showed up and offered him a ray of hope.

"He asked me if I wanted to go to Michigan to live with him," he said. "Of course, I did. He said he was taking me with him. I even got to sleep with him during the visit."

When he awoke the next morning, he heard noise in the kitchen and
hurried toward it.

"I asked where my dad was," he said. "They told me he had already gone.
I cried three or four days."

He wouldn't see his father or sister again until 1952. He located them during a military leave after serving a tour of duty in Korea.

After the disappointment handed down by his father, he said, he learned to roll with the punches. He abided by his relatives' rules.

"I couldn't eat until everyone else had finished," he said. "I wasn't allowed to eat at their table."

He adjusted. He has sweet memories of a barn that he used as a retreat from the abuse. He spent many hours there, he said. It was a place he could daydream and feast on sweet potatoes and peanuts. He also became acquainted with a small dog that also used the barn as a refuge. Everything was all right until the dog followed him home one day and his relative disposed of it.

"That hurt me so bad," he said.

When he was about seven, he heard a car drive up in the yard and saw a man and woman get out. Words were exchanged between his relatives and the couple. He ended up leaving with the people in the automobile - his aunt and uncle.

"I didn't have any clothes or shoes," he recalled. "All I had was the pair of raggedy overalls that I had on. That was the first time I ever rode in a car."

The couple stopped at a "big store," and he was allowed to go in. They bought him clothing, a ball cap, a large bag of candy and lots of groceries.

At their home in Rivervale, he had his very own bedroom, a far cry from  his prior living quarters. The couple didn't have any other children, and he was treated special, he said. His first meal, he recalled, was
more like Thanksgiving.

"There was fried chicken and pie," he said. "Everything seemed to be perfect. I started to school. I had me a little horse that I rode on Sundays."

About two years later, the turmoil would begin again. While walking home from town, he saw men fishing and stopped to talk. To his surprise, he learned that his mother was married to one of them. The man told him that he would drive over to his uncle's when he finished fishing and pick him up. Afraid, he said, he ran home to share the news with his uncle, who assured him everything would be all right. But it wasn't.

As promised, his stepfather arrived at the house a couple of hours later. Baker was required to leave with him and go to where he and his mother were living in Des Arc.

"They lived on a house boat," he said. "They would move around the river, and I couldn't go to school."

He was required to work, he said, "like a grown man."

When he was 10 or 11, he said, he came home again to find his suitcase packed.

"My mother said she was tired of seeing me get whippings," he said. "I asked here where I was to go, and she told me to go back to my uncle's in Rivervale."

The first night, he said, he slept in the woods. The next day he made it to a relative's house, not his uncle, and they offered him a job chopping cotton. He accepted.

The deal was for him to work and pay $10 a week room and board. He worked through the summer.

By fall, the cotton was gone, and there was no work.

His relative told him that he needed to move along.

"They said they couldn't afford to feed me," he recalled.

He then drifted down to his aunt and uncle's home in Rivervale. He stayed there for about a year. Again, he was treated well.

Change was lurking. His step-dad and mother moved into a tent nearby and he was instructed, by his uncle, that he had to go stay with them and help chop cotton. He worked 10 hours a day, he said, and earned about $1.50.

One of the older men who was working in the cotton field got a "wild hair" to go to California and invited him along, Baker recalled. He asked for his mother's permission, and she offered her blessings. The
two left hitchhiking.

The older man obtained employment at a fish cannery in California. Yet, Baker was too young, and he couldn't find anyone to hire him. However, the older man told him not to worry and allowed him to stay with him.

One day, Baker came in and all of the older man's belongings were missing. He had moved on.

The landlady allowed the youngster to stay until the end of the week.

Not knowing where to turn, he began to hitchhike his way back to Arkansas. On this way, he stopped to help a man mowing and ended up staying with that family for almost a year.

"They were good to me," he said. "They wanted me to stay. I'm not sure what my life would have been like if I had not stayed with them."

He is proud that "not once' along his way, in spite of being hungry many times and tired, he never resorted to stealing.

"I knew that wasn't right," he said. "I would just ask for work."

Eventually, he made his way back and moved in with his step-grandmother. It was 1944, and he was 15 years old.

He convinced his step-grandmother to sign a form saying he was 16 so he could enter the Army. It was't hard to fool them, he said. He stood 5 feet 11 inches and weighed 185 pounds. The next day, he was placed on a train to California for training.

In 1947, his father contacted his commanding officer and attempted to have him relieved of duties.

They were alerted that he had lied about his age.

However, he was 18 by then and was allowed to continue serving.

He remained in the Army for 10 years. In 1955, he joined the Navy. First, he served as a heavy equipment operator.

"Some people say I got the stupid idea to join the Navy Seals," he said. He passed all the tests and was accepted.

He served in Vietnam for three years beginning in 1967. He had already served in World War II and Korea.

Certificates on his walls and documents in his files serve as proof that he is a highly decorated soldier. Among his medals are a Bronze Star, a Silver Star and a Medal of Honor. The Medal of Honor was awarded for bravery in Vietnam.

He was on a night mission and parachuted into Cambodia in an attempt to liberate an American general.

Wounded, he carried a lieutenant on his back while helping carry a lieutenant general on a stretcher for nine miles.

Also, 18 other American prisoners were liberated in the mission.

He retired from the Navy in 1970 as a chief petty officer.

After his first wife died, he moved to Kensett and met his second wife, Bonnie.

While attending an American Association of Retired Persons meeting in Searcy, he was introduced to Sheriff Jess Odum who was the guest speaker.

He shared his lifelong desire to serve in law enforcement with Odum. Baker's father had served as a sheriff for 10 years, and he also had an uncle in law enforcement.

Odom, he said, encouraged him to take the necessary steps to become an auxiliary deputy. Yet, there was one problem. He didn't have a high school diploma. In his entire life, Baker said, he has attended school
in a formal capacity less than two years. Yet, he appears well-educated.

"I couldn't go to school, but that didn't prevent me from learning," he offered.

"The sheriff tried to get a waiver because of my military experience," Baker explained. "There was no doing it."

A burning desire to fulfill his lifelong dream, he received his diploma in January.

He attended auxiliary training, passed his physical, mental evaluations, criminal background checks and qualified.

He now works at the sheriff's department. He is also the constable of Kensett, but was not elected to that office. Whether by coincidence or fate, he said, he lost the election. However, the man who won moved
prior to taking office. Baker was then appointed to the position by the Governor's Office.

He is now going to school to learn computers and word processing. He appears to speak Spanish fluently but plans to take an advanced course.

He is scheduled to go to the police academy in Camden this fall. He said he has been told he is the oldest man to apply to the academy.

To which he replies, "It's never too late if you want to do something."