Mary Brinton’s Account (From her illustrated Diaries, thanks Betsy Roak)

The whole summer was benefited, or should have been, by the Baker reunion held at Prouts. Bakie was celebrating her 75th birthday with sons-in-law, children and grand children all coming to visit from Philadelphia, St. Louis, St. Paul and San Antonio, Texas. The Cammock House set the stage on that summer day in August.

Those living there reported several cars driving up to the door. There were shouts and shrieks from within as the Bells greeted Nixons, Shapleys and Ames all dressed in the latest fashion, hair handsomely quaffed, each definately trying to outdo the others. Bag and baggage was removed from the cars then six Baker girls with their husbands and their offspring entered the hotel. Some were assigned rooms, the overflow were to stay with the Bells. The Shepley’s had rented a cottage which was to house the youngest grand- child, less that six months old.

At last quiet reigned when the summer visitors at the hotel, who had expected a restful holiday, wondered what they had been let in for. The Bells, being old residents of Prouts, bore the brunt of the entertaining. Picnics had to be arranged, beaus obtained to take the girls to the dances and finally necessary preparations for the birthday dinner.

The sun shone as if by order which gave the family the opportunity to spend much time on the beach. The Bells bath house was used to great advantage by all, there was a steady stream of all ages going in and out, they even overflowed into my house and others conveniently located nearby.

Naturally bathing suits got mixed up which necessitated calling back and forth to those already sunning themselves. The female members of the family lolled on the beach decollate attire endeavoring to burn themselves black.

Those from one part of St. Paul chewed gum while the Ames family sat in dignity and appeared to be on the outer edge of everything. The reunion set up an exclusive group, even their oldest friends found it hard to get a word with any of them so absorbed were they in family affairs. The Nixon twins to me were the most attractive, I watched them at one of the dances, they entered heartily into the spirit of the party whirling repeatedly with the small children and later leading the “Conga”.

On this occasion they were dressed in white, were slim and graceful and entertaining to talk to, responsive and intelligent. Mother Julie bore herself as a Southern Belle, never out of character. One Sunday she was dressed all in black with an ultra hat on her head, she prepared to vamp an old Philadelphia flame who had come to visit in New England especially to see her. She acted the part to perfection, rolling her eyes and using her southern accent well, the other guests at the cocktail party were highly entertained having been forewarned.

At last the calendar rolled arount to the birthday. I walked to the Cammock early bearing my present hoping to find Bakie alone, instead she was surrounded with family and friends. Tables were placed and were already overflowing with cards, flowers and everything that could be found in a first class gift shop. It was perfect bedlam, someone told me the day started when the hotel waitresses joined hands and sang “Happy Birthday To You”. I took Bakie aside feeling particularly sentimental as many birthdays had been shared by our two families over a period of years.

The family party was held in the cocktail bar of the B.P.I. with every member present. Each gave a gift and wrote an appropriate thesis. John C. Bell III was the toastmaster, calling on lawyers Shepley, Bell and Ames. Dr. Nixon, with his usual charm and good humor, contributed much to the occasion.

Then day came when they all scattered to the four corners of the earth, and those of us who had come here to enjoy the summer holiday pursued the even tenor of our lives, none the better for it except what we absorbed from the family as we saw them that last Sunday, young and old sitting together with Bakie in the midst beaming, as she glanced with pride at the results of her handiwork.

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