Joseph Andrew Baute

Joe was born on January 30, 1928 in Providence, Rhode Island and grew up on a small farm on the outskirts of East Greenwich, Rhode Island where his father, Joseph Andrew Baute, had his medical practice and his mother, Helen Brueckner Baute, was a nurse. As children, Joe and his siblings learned to tend vegetable and flower gardens and raised a number of different animals – chickens, rabbits, goats – especially helping their mother when World War II service in the Navy took their father away for most of the war.

After graduating from high school in 1946, Joe entered the Marine Corps, served for two years, and was discharged with the rank of sergeant in 1948. Joe began his undergraduate studies at Dartmouth College at that time but was called back into the Marine Corps to serve during the Korean War. He was stationed at the Great Lakes Naval Training Station and at the San Diego Marine Corps Recruit Depot until discharged as a staff sergeant. Joe returned to Dartmouth, finishing his undergraduate degree in 1952 and receiving his Master’s degree from the Thayer School of Engineering in 1954. Upon graduation, Joe moved to Keene, New Hampshire where he began a 39-year career at Markem Corporation, starting out as a young engineer and retiring as Markem’s Chairman and Chief Executive Officer in 1993.

A renaissance man with many interests, Joe loved to learn, and pursued his passions with intensity and vigor. He developed skills in woodworking, wood turning, and wine appreciation. His passion for aviation led him to perfect his piloting skills in “Archie,” his single engine Piper Cherokee, earning his instrument and commercial licenses. One of his favorite memories was landing Archie on the ice on Lake Winnipesaukee. Later in life, as his eyesight began to fail, Joe’s love of innovation and technology led him to discover specialized tools that helped him adapt and continue to take part in all the activities he enjoyed. At a late age, he began studying the harmonica, often accompanied by his dog Charlie’s harmonization. Above all, his deepest passion was for his wife of 49 years, Stephanie Heselton Baute, and he was most proud of the family they shared and loved.

Deeply rooted in the Keene community, Joe served as a member and Chair of the School Board. He also served on the boards of the Keene Clinic, Home Healthcare Hospice & Community Services, the United Church of Christ in Keene, and as a United Way Fund Chair. Beyond Keene, Joe served as a member and, later, Chairman of the Federal Reserve Bank of Boston board. He also served on the boards of State Street Bank and Trust Company, Houghton Mifflin Corporation, the Dead River Company, Nashua Corporation, and Connection (formerly PC Connection). Closer to home, he dedicated time to the State of New Hampshire as a member and Chair of Leadership New Hampshire.

Joe’s passion for mentoring, imbued by an ability to encourage reflective thinking and thoughtful risk-taking, was one of his greatest gifts that people who knew him cherished and will greatly miss. Family members, friends, and colleagues lucky enough to benefit from his natural gift for counsel will forever remember the kindness and conviction of his guiding hand.

Although Joe believed his work was his play, he was equally committed to taking care of himself and his family, and embracing fun and adventure with zeal. He loved exploring the world near and far, from hiking and trail work on Surry Mountain, to grandchild tractor time, and active international travel. He read voraciously and delighted in learning about new places and perspectives from everyone he encountered. Favorite activities included family vacations at a dude ranch in Wyoming, visits to Block Island, and an 80th birthday adventure trip to Costa Rica.

In addition to his wife Stephanie, the love of his life, Joe is survived by daughters Susan Stewart (Alexsander), Alison Pierce (Darrell), Sarah Beckley (David), son Joseph Andrew Baute (John Aubrey), stepdaughter Deborah Kacanek (Roger Grande), and seven grandchildren: Alex Hnizdor (Laura), Elizabeth Pierce (Kevin Boehnke), Hannah Brown, William Pierce, Josh Hnizdor, Grace Stewart, and Sasha Grande-Kacanek, as well as two great-grandchildren, Rebecca and Louis Boehnke Pierce, his sister Barbara Dowd and brother Robert Baute (Barbara), sister in-law Cynthia M. Baute, numerous nephews and nieces, and dog Charlie Baute. Joe was pre-deceased by his brother Peter Baute, stepson David Kacanek, first wife Rebecca Belisle Baute, sister in-law Cynthia F. Baute, and brother in-law Thomas Dowd.

Joe and his family are deeply grateful to Aylene Wozmak, Hospice RN, their angel hospice nurse, and to his wonderful caregivers from D & S Eldercare Services, Sherri Wade, LNA and CMA, Cindy Rose, LNA, Christine Prentiss, LNA, and Amanda Robinson, LNA.

A Celebration of Joe’s Life will be held at the United Church of Christ of Keene at noon on September 25. Masking and social distancing will be strictly followed. In the interest of our common health, please do not attend the celebration if you are not vaccinated. The service will be livestreamed for those unable to attend in person.

Those wishing to give in Joe’s memory may donate to Home Healthcare Hospice & Community Services, the Helen Brueckner Baute Nurse Scholarship at Cheshire Medical Center, and the United Church of Christ in Keene.

Remembering Joe by Jennie Norman

I worked with Joe at Markem and we’ve been friends ever since. I could tell you about his many accomplishments and accolades, but instead I’ll tell you about who he was.

Joe was a leader, a mentor, and a craftsman. He loved the land, his tractor, and his shop. He was a rousing public speaker and a great dancer. He loved big dogs, good wine, Stephanie’s cooking, and Louis L’Amour. He wore a Mickey Mouse watch with his Hermes ties, and he had a tattoo of Curious George on his ankle.

To me and countless others, Joe was a true icon. But why? What was it about Joe that was so inspiring to so many?

I think it comes down to values. Joe was truly driven by his values. As I reflect on his career and his life, I believe he was led by three in particular: hard work, absolute integrity, and a fundamental desire to help others be better.

No one worked harder than Joe. He saw everything as a job - to be done and to be done well. “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right” he would always say. Work was his play – and play was his work, and Joe did all of it right.

For the past three and a half years, staying alive became the biggest and hardest part of Joe’s work. He fought doggedly against illness and injury, pain, and exhaustion. He had never worked harder.

As for integrity, Joe always strove to do the right thing. Full stop. Damn the consequences. He used to say: “It’s better to be fired than to quit.”

Jeff Miller, who also worked with Joe, wrote this in his note to Stephanie and the family:

“’WHAT WOULD JOE DO?’ This is a question that has anchored me in difficult situations when the easy path was not the best path. Joe was a man of conviction, with unwavering courage to back up that conviction, with the least important aspects of his decisions being their impact on himself.”

And Joe was passionate about mentoring others, both at work and at home. I believe this is how Joe expressed his love. As Jeff said: “…Joe’s advice shrewdly came in the form of questions that would direct one’s thinking, rather than suggesting what someone should do.”

As for me, I can tell you that Joe was a man you did not want to disappoint. I’m sure this was true for his children and grandchildren as well as for those of us who worked with him. As a mentor, and by his example, Joe inspired us to be our best selves.

On my first day at Markem, Joe gave me a small, leather-bound book, written in 1938, titled “I DARE YOU.” He said it had guided him, and it might guide me. Here’s one paragraph:

“I am looking for you, one of the audacious few, who will face life courageously, ready to strike straight at the heart of anything that is keeping you from your best; you intrepid ones behind whom the world moves forward. To you, I am going to unfold a secret power that but few know how to use; the secret power of daring and sharing…. Once it is yours, you can never rest until you have given it to others. And the more you give away, the greater becomes your capacity to give. I want you to start a crusade in your life – to dare to be your best.”

Joe Baute ALWAYS dared to be his best, and always gave his secret power to others.

Someone once said that death is nature’s way of making us slow down. Three days before Joe died, he said to Stephanie: “I want to quit my job.” Though he’d always said it was better to be fired than to quit, he had done all he could. Fittingly, Joe released himself from his long life of good work, as morning broke, on Labor Day - in his own bed - with Stephanie at his side. Joe didn’t quit his job – he completed it, on his own terms, with dignity and grace.

Eulogy by Bill Toms

Good afternoon. I’m Bill Toms and I’m here to speak about my friend, Joe Baute.

Yes, Joe was my FRIEND, as he was to so many of you. Joe and I tried to have lunch together once a week when we were both in town. We used to talk about the stuff that old men talk about. I’d like to relate 3 things that came up in our talks that may give you some insight into things you may not have known about Joe.

The first 2 hail from his younger years. Joe always spoke fondly of his childhood and teen years. One lunch I happened to ask him “ What was the best job you ever had?” Without hesitating he said “ Well, digging quahogs in the bay when I was a teen. I had my own boat, my own bull-rake, I could work as hard and long as I wanted, as long as I got to school on time, and, most importantly, I was my own boss.” And then he added “And you know, I made some money on those quahogs.”. DO YOU THINK this may give us an early hint about Joe’s resourcefulness, work ethic, and entrepreneurial spirit?

Joe also talked about another seminal event in his teen years. While he was still in high school, he decide he wanted to be a Marine, so he enlisted. The only problem was…he was still in high school, underage, did not have his parents’ permission and he somehow forgot his father was the Medical Officer for the reviewing draft board. Joe received a stern rejection. He tried 2 more times , utilizing…uh…innovative techniques, but was found out each time and denied. Finally, upon graduation from high school, he showed up to enlist, with a supportive letter from his father, and Joe joined the Marines. He fully enjoyed being a Marine. After the Marines Joe went to Dartmouth where he decided he wanted to play college football.

He played center…at 160 lbs. While Joe was at Dartmouth the Korean War broke out and Joe was once again a Marine. Joe, at heart, remained a Marine until his final days. Once a Marine, always a Marine. DO YOU THINK this may reflect Joe’s commitment to service, Joe’s love of his country and the tenacity he brought to solving any problem?

And then, a few years ago I asked Joe what he would’ve liked to have done if he had chosen a different path after college. He responded that he was very happy with his life and the path he had chosen but…then he said with no hesitation “But I think I would have liked to have been a teacher. Yes, I would have liked being a teacher.”

Now, we all know that Joe was a LIFELONG LEARNER, whether it was getting his commercial flying license in Charlie, learning how to build a better ink-jet, how to grow a company, how to turn a cherry bowl, how to play the harmonica or how to lead a Federal Reserve Bank through difficult times, Joe was a learner.

But, maybe in retrospect, what was even more important was that Joe WAS a teacher, and a very good one. I think that Joe probably taught everyone in this church something. I KNOW HE TAUGHT ME.

I remember attending the culminating gathering of the 1st class of Leadership NH at which Joe was the main speaker. Joe brought a child’s tool kit with a little wooden hammer and all. He talked to us about our own personal tool kits and how to use them well. It was a pertinent lesson I remember to this day. Joe was not just a lifelong learner, HE WAS A LIFELONG TEACHER.

Joe would teach by his sterling PERSONAL EXAMPLE OF HARD WORK and DISCIPLINE. Those watching or listening to Joe would learn about a WORK ETHIC, about LOYALTY and HONESTY and COURAGE in decision-making. But, if need be, Joe would also teach with clear DIDACTIC INSTRUCTION. He was not shy about saying “turn that bowl more slowly” or “don’t be late again”, if the situation called for it. But Joe’s main method of teaching was through SOCRATIC INQUIRY. How many of you here remember asking Joe’s advice, or possibly not even knowing you needed Joe’s advice, and getting a response sounding like “ Well, what do YOU think we should do?” and then being led, slowly, toward YOU figuring out what was the best answer for you? On many occasions it would’ve been easier just for Joe to give us the answer but, like the experienced and wise teacher he was, Joe knew it was more important to head us in the right direction and then let us find our way.

As it turned out, Joe, you were a great teacher.

I think what I have said today is NOT NEWS to anyone. I think everyone in this church today has had the benefit of Joe’s teaching. I would ask each of you, as a way to HONOR Joe, to consider what you learned from Joe, what he taught you…. and then imagine him smiling.

Thank you all and thank you, Joe.

Remembrance by Joe's Daughter, Sarah Beckley

Some of you may not know my dad had a tattoo. He’d thought about getting a tattoo as one of those want-to-do life experiences, but because he was still working it had to be a combination of discreet while embodying something personal and important. He chose his ankle as the location, and Curious George, the H.A. Rey character much loved by many children and published at the time by Houghton Mifflin, on whose corporate board he sat, as the subject. I remember him mentioning to me his ankle was a great spot because who would know, with a sock pulled over it, this sagacious CEO, always thoughtful in his manner and polished in his business suit, was sporting a little smiling monkey holding a heart and well known for his adventurous hijinks. You might think, what on earth was the messaging behind that? This tattoo was simply a great reflection of his thinking. On his ankle, he could not help but look at it daily, in the shower, or getting dressed, and have a reminder not to take life too seriously, to continuously embrace inquisitiveness, to love what you are doing and have fun even if it sometimes gets you into situations where you might need a little help.

While my dad’s tattoo was all about the monkey, there is another character in the Curious George stories who is perhaps even more important to me in what my dad shared with us and those around him. That character is the Man with the Yellow Hat. It is the Man with the Yellow Hat who rescues George and brings him home to live as family. Inevitably, as life goes on, the Man with the Yellow Hat has a reason to leave George alone, and it is in those times George’s curiosity gets the best of him and he finds himself in what we as adults would call a major ‘uh oh’ moment. Seemingly out of nowhere, the Man with the Yellow Hat appears and provides George a rescue once again. He never does this with an ‘I told you so’, but quietly provides a landing place and cloak of care. So too, did my dad provide this to all of us, quietly allowing us to work through our life questions while asking many of his own and providing a persistent refrain of ‘what can I do for you?’.

While spending time with him on his last day, I told him this was one of the greatest gifts he had given me, that here, I knew I can be who I am, and always safe. During troubled times in my childhood, early morning Valley Green breakfasts or a trip to Jean’s for a donut with my dad were a rescue for me. As an adult, through a couple of decades relationship in which I was always found to be lacking or at fault, knowing I could talk with my dad and be accepted without judgement helped me not lose myself completely. More recently, his questions delved into my work challenges, or encouraged me to think about future activities, like where were David and I going next, or retirement someday. I shall greatly miss those conversations and am so grateful to have had them. So as I work to honor my dad by embracing my own inner George, I also hope I can wear a yellow hat for those I love and care for as well as he did. I know he would say it’s a great goal for us all.