Let me tell you a little story about Bakerwoods. My Dad, Grant Baker, was a lumberman and trapper and was born and raised in Ashford. My Mom Frances was from New York City and had a few surprises when she married my Dad. She came from the city to set up housekeeping in a woodchoppers shack with a picnic table, a hand pump, no electricity and no telephone. Mom was leaning about housekeeping in the country while listening to an old Buick engine that ran the small sawmill Dad operated. When the war broke out, Dad was called to duty and off he went leaving Mom in the woods with two babies, no car and no contacts. But Dad was a wonderful inventor, so before he left he climbed to the top of a large oak tree and there he placed a pulley with a rope to which he attached a white grain bag. Now if Mom needed help while he was gone, all she had to do was to hoist the "flag" and someone in the neighborhood would see it and send help.