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"I had always been exhilarated by New York," he says. He adds that he was frightened too—about being mugged, about burglars. "I felt I was hemorrhaging money when I came there on assignment. I felt there was no human space. I would arrive back in Washington with a great sigh of relief. But I've discovered that I'm urban. Chevy Chase, where I lived in Washington, is like a small town in Indiana, full of people certified orthodox by the U.S. Government. New York is the way cities used to be." Baker's existence in New York is the way life there used to be. He and Mimi generally avoid fashionable openings, trendy watering holes and other gossip-column venues in favor of reading, going to movies and plays and having dinner with friends. Russell, who netted $53,000 last year, moves among a small, distinguished circle of New Yorkers, and they cherish him. "He leads a rare honorable life. People look up to him," says New Yorker Writer Michael Arlen. "He never seems to get swayed by the bullshit. There is less trimming his sails in the prevailing winds than in any man I know." NBC Anchorman John Chancellor thinks Baker is "not a humorist but a moralist." Journalist David Halberstam (The Powers That Be) sees "an elegance within the man." Arthur Gelb, deputy managing editor of the Times, talks of "a twinkle in his eye."
Since the move to New York, the "Observer" column has turned away from politics. "I didn't know Jimmy Carter when I was reporting," says the writer. "I don't know him now. I find I'm not much interested." The column has instead taken an inward turn. Baker's close readers think it has become better. Its author sits alone in a room and wonders about children and parents. His own father cut stone, and as a little boy Baker saw him do it. What does the child of a systems analyst envision his father doing?
Baker's own three children knew very well what he did for a living and wanted no part of it. When his son Allen was twelve, Baker jokingly asked him whether he wanted to be a writer.
"You crazy?" said the boy. "Sit and stare at the wall all day?" The Baker children were teen-agers in the 1960s, and, perhaps as a result of the rebellion in the air then, none attended college. Allen, now 26 and married, is a contractor in Aldie, Va. Sister Kasia, 28, is divorced and worked until recently in a Manhattan boutique. Michael, 24, who was married this month at the Nantucket house, lives in New York and works as a television grip. The family is close and affectionate.
Some of Baker's friends think he is a bit ashamed to be using his talent for something as unsubstantial as a newspaper column. He admits he would hate to think the column expresses everything that is in him. He also says that "it's only daily journalism. The readers throw it away and forget it."
A deadline arrives, however, and he writes a lovely column about the child of the systems analyst. He toys with the idea of writing a book-length log of his failed theatrical adventure. Then he thinks he would like to write a book about growing up in America 50 years ago. Could he find the time?
Another deadline: he is working in his apartment in New York. His head is empty. Nothing comes.