Dear Mr. Baker,

We've never met but your work has reached me through space and time since your death.

I've just finished a run of your play, "Dolores," in which I played the title role. (Yes, we aged it up a bit, with permission ) The layers we were able to pull back and explore as these two sisters was extraordinary. My words aren't sufficient to express the beauty, sadness, intensity, and love that I found in it. I'm forever grateful to have found the play, and you.

I was happy to find this space online where you are loved and celebrated. I loved looking at pictures of you across the span of your life. God bless you, Sir. And thank you.

Kim Winter Mako

I am just learning about Ed's passing. I am saddened to learn this. He was my teacher/mentor/encourager/ supporter at Pace Actor's Studio. He supported my efforts to extend our sessions. (Unfortunately they said no). But I am forever grateful to have known him for that short time and to be able to communicate with him from time to time. He was so smart and funny and generous in his mentoring. We would just sit and talk about writing and whatever I brought to our playwriting sessions. I love his work. I am a playwright and director. I love his characters who are just plain people with issues. I hope he is enjoying his "new life" wherever and whatever he is now. Best to his family. Thank you for sharing him with all of us. He was a gem!

I've been trying to figure out what to say for a long time. I have every word and not enough of them.

Ed was my professor at ASDS - I graduated just months before he passed, with not a clue of what he was going through. He brave-faced it as he did with most things -- with humor and heart that far outweighed any pain he endured. It hurts to consider that I hadn't gotten to be in the same room as him since March of 2020, and that I wouldn't be again.

There is a lot that I regret but I don't regret meeting him. He gave me back my passion for writing. He supported me during a very tumultuous time in school, even before the pandemic. He was so much more than a professor - he was a friend, a colleague, a spirited debate partner, and someone who left an irreversible mark on my life up to this point. He made even the worst work feel like it was worth something; he made the better ones feel like they were made of steel - to be both forged and treasured.

I'm also positive that I knew more about his life by graduation, than I do some people I'd known for years. Candid and unafraid, Ed shared his life so others felt encouraged to share theirs. I'll always be grateful for that.

Dear Ed,

Thinking of you makes the deepest, most lonely and awkward corner of my heart shine.
There is a certainty that it would have been welcome.

I remember strolling a bit airy as I can be on the corridors of ASDS, probably on a loop on my mind how to crack to cry on stage, understand what to say about Peer Gynt (a 5 act play in verse when I just started getting better in English) and fighting my homesickness when Ed would just sneak up and share his wonderful memories about Vienna with me. He made sure to bring that feeling of coziness that Vienna has, across as if he could smell my homesickness and turbulent mind. He would ask me a few questions and made sure we shared a laugh.
And then we parted again.

He was so good at that, coming in and out in my life like vitamin - you are welcome, you are safe.

Another time he would encourage me to write. Or put up a play in Vienna.
Or tell me how he sees that I can be a fantastic Dolores.
His belief in me, despite or maybe exactly because of my broken parts, makes me feel warm inside and miss him, but also honor and carry him on, just there on the rough edges his vitamin is sprinkled !

Thank you Ed!
I hug you!

He will be missed.

The last email I received from Ed was filled with love and encouragement.
Love for life, love and gratitude for his three children and how proud he was of the individuals they had become.
It was filled with encouragement for my new chapter in life as well as his own new life up in the country, describing the nature around his house and the thrill of having bought a car. He reflected on his life outside the city and how surprisingly well he manged the online teaching challenge. It felt content and at peace with life and he ended with the quote of a mystic - "wherever you are is the entry point". I carry this quote in my heart along with all the precious moments I was granted to spend with this beautiful human.
Thank you Ed, for being the wonderful, wise soul that you are and for touching our lives in person and through the characters and words you put down on pages. You'll always live through them, as well as in our thoughts and hearts.

The first day I met you in person I thought I was meeting the most famous person in the world! Well I was (in my world ) I was 19 and my Father and I produced a production of Face Divided and Lady of Fatima at the Tribeca Lab directed by Robert Castle who introduced me to your work in class . Your work made me love acting, it made it easy . I learned to open my heart and just trust what you wrote because you would never fail me or leave me alone. in the midst of chaos your truthful , wise, deep, clear understanding of humanity would heal me and everyone who witnessed your magic. Anyway.... you came to one of the shows and when I heard you were there I was floored ! I ran out to meet you as you paced the side walk smokin a ciggie and you smiled at me with that warm, beautiful ,smirky smile and you shook my hand and I hugged you and you laughed and told me it was the best version of the character you had seen done ! Holy shit!! I thought "that’s it Edward Allan Baker just said that to me ?!! I’m totally going to win an Academy Award ! Like soon !!! " Ever since that day you became my friend and you will never know how proud that made me ! To call you and know that you were MY friend ! You have inspired me before I met you and then inspired me everyday of my life as an artist and as a human as my friend, mentor, colleague , creative partner ... god I fuckin love you Eddie Baker and I am going to miss you more then I ever thought possible . My life was forever changed because of you in it and now forever changed without you . The letter you wrote me on the opening night of 17th of June in 2007 has not left my side( i memorized it) i share it with my students it is the perfect description of what it takes to be a truthful artist...Thank you Eddie for making me feel the way you made me feel in all ways always. I love you forever.... Dylan, Alex ,Marlena every single time I spoke with your dad he told me all about you and what was going on in your lives. He was so proud to be your father. Im so so sorry life will never be the same...there is a hole. Huge love to you all. Bye for now Eddie Baker I will see you again...i just know it. Maybe like in North of Providence you will come back as a kitten. Dylan already shared the letter you wrote to me. I think the world should read it !! Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Yours, Suzanne DiDonna

I remember when I was ten years old and I always wanted to be a writer just like you. I would write you stories and send them to you. You would always write comments and write a letter back. The speech you gave at my wedding was beautiful and I will never forget it. You definitely had a way with words. Leon, Little Leon and I will never forget the time we spent with you in NYC in February 2020. You told us stories about mom and nana. You loved showing us all NYC had to offer. As I told you in the hospital, I know mom was waiting for you in heaven with open arms. I love you and will miss you.

Love, Stephanie, Leon, and Little Leon

Ed and I were colleagues and friends for 26 years. I met him first as a Faculty Member at Sarah Lawrence College, and myself like him as an EST member. Our frindship continued when he was at Pace/Actor's Studio Grad Program.He and I, along with Doug MacHugh were often called: The Three Amigoe's. After classes, we hung at the Station House: Doug with a beer or two, me with a wine or two, and Ed...a glass of water, or a soda; always! Both Doug and I as acting teachers, year after year assigned various scenes from Ed's many plays. I did so on purpose to challenge one of my classes, which was a Freshman class. I did not want them to think that theatre was just safe or fun, I wanted them to touch the darkness and humanity that Ed wrote of in every one of his plays. As a playwright myself, he and I often talked about the responsibility of being one. I will miss his wisdom, his honesty, his ART! LOVE, TO YOU, ED!

A beloved man of the people. Always radiating warmth and truth. I had not seen Ed for many years but the genuine friendship he gave was lifelong and steeped in compassion. My thoughts and heart are of sadness and loss but my prayers and love go to the beautiful family he left behind.

Ed helped shape so many bright early creative minds at SLC with humor and conviction. He helped me discover my voice as a writer and for that I am truly grateful. He will always be loved, cherished, and remembered with every keystroke he affected.

A personal letter that my father (Edward Allan Baker) had written to one of his "instruments of light", a friend, a sidekick and frequent **Eddie Baker actress**, Suzanne DiDonna. This frames him. His energy, emotion, drive, depth, and devotion to the less fortunate.

"...At the risk of buttering your toast too much this morning you must know you rank right up there with some of the best I've worked with in terms of unspoken talent and understanding of the world my people emerge from- and aptly portraying the people and the world they exist in. Not an easy task. They're not born bad. Bad things have happened to them. And in that maze of misfortune they've lost their way-- and hang tightly to that last string of hope, of dignity.

Our job (with any play) is to convince/seduce/hypnotize an audience into believing that the character before them actually exist. Hard work. Really hard fucking work. Because it means going to places we usually numb (in real life) with all sorts of things--- but our work demands we open up that door and let out the pain; an un-leashing that is scary but necessary if we want to face some truths of the human condition. It takes courage. It fucks us up. The ego hates it. We get crazy. We get insecure. And if it doesn't do all of those things, it means we opened the wrong door. The ego won. All is safe. And you, like me detest falseness, cliches, safety, and worst of all--- we hate it when the ego wins. We succeed in what we do because most people don't dare go near the door they know a demon or two resides behind. And I know in order to keep them in their seats they must experience---an inner amazement---that some light has been brought to a vast darkness (for half an hour, hour, 2 hours)---that they personally would never enter, a timeless place without borders. So they sit up. Open up.

To be an instrument of that journey an actor sacrifices things, loses sleep, fights ego hourly, and needs to know "this is okay, right? You're going to be there when I come back right? I'm not going to do this alone, right?" As the playwright --- I'm alone when my hand is on the knob of the door I know is the door---and fear comes in waves, and I back off, act out-- until the moment I realize all I feel/fear is to be used-- and with tears rolling down my face--the door opens without me making a move. There's so much wisdom in insecurity. I find my center--then like a coal-miner, I do what I must do. Then I return to some civility, calm, so as to create with what I discovered and to share that with people so they may make a discovery or two. Shit. It's what we do. We just peel off our mask in order to help others with theirs. It's what we were chosen to do. So we do it."

"You must go on,
I can't go on,
I'll go on." -Beckett

Good luck today/tonight with the sharing of a little bit of light
love, ed"

So sad to hear this. New York always meant being with you for a little while - at the park, in your loft - and being in the zone with someone without even trying. Family, friend, mentor, Don - you were all and more. The infrequency of our meetings never meant anything cause we were always connected somehow through channels that have nothing to do with time and space. Your laugh will play in my head whenever I need it - you wise wise soul. Love you and see you some time, some space. - Eelum

I had the unique privilege as a student at Sarah Lawrence to have two excellent playwrights as my professors: Stuart Spencer and Edward Allan Baker. I had the best of both worlds. Stuart, who had written a wonderful book on playwriting and Ed, who when I asked him to recommend a book on playwriting, told me that not only had he never written one but that he had never read one. I looked forward to every class, hung on to his every comment and observation and grew to love and admire this wonderful man. While at grad school, I directed a production of DOLORES with Ed in attendance. His words of encouragement meant a great deal to me. Along with being my teacher and mentor, we briefly became working colleagues adjudicating student playwrights for the Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival. I felt both honored and woefully inadequate sitting next to Ed, but he made me feel as if we were equals. Years later, as artistic director of a Wisconsin theatre company, I produced DOLORES while communicating via email with Ed. He was as generous with his time and thoughts as he ever was with me. Ed was an enormous influence on my career and my life. I wrote my first produced play in Ed's Sarah Lawrence class. I gratefully dedicated the play to him for without his guidance and influence, it surely never would have been written.  That guidance and influence has stayed with me ever since and I pass it on whenever I can. 

I remember the first time I met you. It was like we had known each other for lifetimes before. To be honest we probably had ❤️ We (myself, you, Anthony and Carol) stayed up all night talking and laughing, like carefree teenagers it felt like. From then on, anytime I had the honor to spend time with you…it was like we never skipped a beat. We will miss you but always know we will honor you and your legacy will live on forever.
Love you always,
Your niece Brenda xoxo

I'll never forget family reunions at Abuelos with our kids as we were all growing up while at the same time raising our kids.
Marlena, Alex, and Dylan will miss you, but you'll live forever in their memories. 
You will also continue to live in your extended family's lives.
Jorge