Jersey Shore Magazine
Issue link: https://www.ifoldsflip.com/i/141619
the face of the restaurants, and he would get to know you. He was a celebrity. This was a small town," adds Cooper. To demonstrate Baker's charisma, Cooper mentions how Baker even convinced a piano player in the Bahamas to move to New Jersey. "Oh, Earl Roach," laughs Baker. "Actually it was Bermuda. We were partying in Bermuda and as the night progressed I thought I was Fred Astaire. The next morning the phone rang and a gentleman asked, 'What time does the plane leave?' It turns out I had hired him the night before." He adds, "He was supposed to stay just a few weeks, but he stayed fifteen years. Now he's retired to New Orleans. He was a real musician's musician." "Jack created all of this for us," credits Cooper. But it was also Baker's son-in-law, Anthony Papalia, who served as company president after Baker retired from 1988 to 2005 who provided leadership and administrative structure. "Both of these men taught me the business and allowed me the opportunity to continue the legacy," says Cooper. Interview With Jack Baker At eighty-one, Jack Baker has retired to Richmond, Maine. Still sharp as a tack, Baker talked to us about his life in Point Pleasant, his home in Maine, and his memories of World War II as a boy out on the sea fishing with his father. You grew up in Point Pleasant? I went to the grammar school and the high school. It was my hometown. The football team were state champs in 1948. It started as a fishing village. I guess we got our first motel around 1945 or 1946. It was right after the war that things really took off. I've got to say, Point Pleasant was one hell of a lovely area to grow up in…it was great and a great place to start a business. I have so many great memories…everyone always pitched in and helped each other…it had a real community spirit. Why did you decide to retire to Maine? There's something about Maine. It's like Point Pleasant Beach was in the 1940s when everyone knew each other. Before Richmond, I lived on Bailey Island. It's just like Point, a little fishing town that's now a tourist mecca. Where we live now is very rural, we love it. What have you done since retirement? I couldn't stand sitting around so I opened and sold a few restaurants in Maine. For a while, I would help the senior citizens by cooking dinner once a month or so but lately I've let someone younger take over and they seem to be doing okay. I'm going on eighty-two-years-old now after all. Do you have a favorite dish? I love anything francaise and anything marsala. You have to understand, I grew up with seafood. It was seafood all the time. So I actually don't like seafood. But there are so many different ways to prepare it now. Back in the day it was broiled lobster or broiled flounder. My wife thinks tilapia is terrible. We like haddock francaise. Do you get back to Point much? We try to get back three of four times a year. My wife has eight sisters that still live in the area. Have you been back since Hurricane Sandy? My wife and I went down at Thanksgiving after the storm. My son has credentials that let us see Mantoloking and Bay Head. I could not believe it. I lived through three or four hurricanes, and they were nothing compared to this. Baker's American Bar & Grille, Monroe. s h o r e • s p r i n g 2 0 1 3 continued on page 40 j e r s e y During a period from 1977 to 1999, Chefs International was publicly owned. Cooper himself started with the company in 1982 as a bartender during his college years. "I was supposed to be a school teacher," laughs Cooper. Cooper's mother was a server and manager with Chefs and Cooper himself quickly progressed to dining room manager. "I guess the job picks you," says Cooper. Cooper also met his wife at the Lobster Shanty (she was a server and hostess) and they were married, naturally, there as well. Anything you'd like to add? There's almost no one I can talk to about this. It sounds like you're not telling a straight story…but people don't realize how close World War II was to us on the Jersey Shore. The German subs would lay in wait within twenty miles of shore. Many nights we'd hear the "boom boom" of depth charges and such. The beaches would be littered with tar, debris, and wreckage all along the coast…it was quite a thing. The Coast Guard would patrol the beach on horseback. They also had a vessel in the Inlet and you had to have a pass to get by them. They would come aboard to make sure you didn't have supplies for the German subs. We used to see periscopes regularly while we were out fishing. Being on the coast, we had to have our car headlights painted black halfway down so they'd be less noticeable. And all windows on buildings and houses that faced the ocean had to be painted black too. I'll never forget one incident in particular. We were out fishing one night, and we could hear the war vessels all around us. The few fishing boats that were out were afraid of getting run down because of course, everyone was blacked out without their lights on. Then, for just a flash of about fifteen seconds, the entire fleet lit up. They had done it just so we would know where we could safely set our nets. n 39