Inseparable to the end!

Dorothy and Glen Baker, their hands clasped, died within hours of each other. Not too much to add, Patrick says it all.

By PATRICK MALONEY, LONDON FREE PRESS
Dorothy and Glen Baker, on their honeymoon in 1947.
When Dorothy Baker died in St. Thomas hospital last week, her husband Glen let go of her hand and followed a familiar pattern that repeated itself through their life together.


Anywhere she went, he followed.



It started the night they met in 1946 at a legendary Port Stanley dance hall, Glen persistently chasing Dorothy down until she agreed to dance.

After sparking a romance at the Stork Club, the couple married on June 14, 1947.

They settled in St. Thomas, his home town, to raise Lynn, their only child. Dorothy worked a variety of office jobs while Glen spent about 30 years selling furniture at Eaton's in downtown London.

They lived in the same Churchill Crescent home for 53 years, only moving out in October.

Throughout their marriage, she booked trips around the globe, and he gladly went too.

When he retired, he followed his beloved around the house, only reluctantly going out without her.

They were, as their daughter puts it, "a kind, little gentle couple who led this simple life together in St. Thomas."

So it was fitting, their daughter says, that when Dorothy -- who'd long battled a lung affliction -- died in the hospital's palliative unit last Friday, her ill husband lying beside her also died just two hours later.

"As soon as their hands were unclasped, they (the nurses) could start to see my dad fail," Lynn Baker said yesterday.

"They were so devoted, and they loved each other so much, that death didn't part them."

Or, as a doctor overseeing their care said: "It's much more explained by his desire to be with her than by anything I can explain to you medically."

Dorothy, 88, was admitted to the palliative unit Nov. 5. Glen, 82, was in and out of hospital two days later but re-admitted permanently with various ailments Nov. 14.

Last Friday, with an unconscious Dorothy's health faltering badly, and Glen also weakening, hospital staff wheeled him into her room and pushed their beds together.

He held her hand for hours before slipping out of consciousness himself.

Dorothy died at her husband's side at 7 p.m. Their hands were unclasped about two hours later as her body was taken away.

That's when Glen's condition unexpectedly worsened.

Within 30 minutes, he, too, died peacefully.

For the hospital staff -- whose compassion was lauded by the family -- it was an overwhelming experience.

"It touched everyone," said Dr. Sharon Baker, who is not related. "The love that they shared . . . it's why we come to work every day."

Fittingly, Glen and Dorothy will be buried together side by side in St. Thomas tomorrow, a love story without end.

"Everybody says he just wanted to be with Dorothy, no matter what," Lynn Baker said. "They had a true, pure love for each other."

"How can you be sad when you know that they're together forever?"