To Live a Legacy

Legacy TO LIVE A

Three beloved centenarian alumnae (or nearly!) – all 1940s graduates – share stories from a bygone era in The Agnes Irwin School’s history, while reflecting on how they embodied the School’s mission: “To learn, to lead, and to live a legacy.”

On June 30, 2024, ninety-seven year old Marian “Tockie” Townsend Baker ’44 posed for Agnes Irwin magazine in the White Mountains of central New Hampshire.

Preternaturally

athletic, Mrs. Baker’s participation in sports during her childhood and at Agnes Irwin set the stage for a lifetime that honored outdoorsmanship.

Marian Tockie” Townsend Baker ’44

HIKER & APPALACHIAN TRAIL CONSERVATIONIST

Marian Townsend Baker ’44, known as “Tockie” (short for Stockton, her maiden middle name), grew up on a family compound at 825 Montgomery Avenue on the parcel of land that is now home to The Shipley School. “My father was one of six children,” she recalled. “My cousins all lived on the property too, and I was the youngest. I remember that every time the family needed more money, a little more of the land was sold.” Growing up during wartime, she said, “games and sports were important to us from a young age to keep us busy. One of my boy cousins, who went to The Haverford

School, was my best friend. We played baseball, touch football, tennis, and pond hockey together.”

World War II impacted Mrs. Baker and her Agnes Irwin classmates. “I remember the war drills at Agnes Irwin which, at the time, was on the Clothier estate [Agnes Irwin’s Wynnewood campus]. For the drills, we didn’t use the front stairs; we used a metal fire escape,” she recollected. Headmistress Miss Laws was a “tough customer.” Associate Headmistress Miss Murphy, on the other hand, was known to be more gentle. Their offices were right inside the

Mrs. Baker in 1973 consulting her Appalachian Trail guide in which she made extensive notes about her hikes, trail conditions, and hiking companions.

Left: Marian “Tockie” Townsend Baker ’44 circa 1948 at the summit of Mt. Katahdin in Maine’s Baxter State Park.

“I was big and strong. I

played hockey, tennis, and baseball. Irwin’s brought in well-known coaches to teach us, like Betty Shellenberger, who had graduated from AIS in 1939 and was a famously talented field hockey player and coach.”

front door, so nothing could get past them, shared Mrs. Baker.

“There was a huge Jeep plant in Ardmore that mass-produced military vehicles for the war e ort,” she recalled.

“The Jeeps would line Montgomery Avenue, and the tra c lights would stay green so the convoys could head toward the Port of Philadelphia for shipment overseas. Anyone trying to cross the intersection on foot just had to wait for the convoys to pass. It was a great excuse if you were late for school, which, I admit, I often was!” she laughed.

Mrs. Baker kept herself busy by playing as many Varsity sports as she could. “I was big and strong,” she exclaimed. “I played hockey, tennis, and baseball. Irwin’s brought in well-known coaches to teach us, like Betty Shellenberger, who had graduated from AIS in 1939 and was a famously talented field hockey player and coach.” Shellenberger is known for playing for the U.S. Women’s National Field Hockey Team in international competitions at a time when women’s sports were often overlooked.

“I think Betty officiated until she was over ninety years old,” Mrs. Baker said.

Because of the war, there were no buses to transport students to sporting events, plus there were a very limited number of games against other schools.

“A few times, our teachers arranged for us to take the train into Philadelphia and over to Chestnut Hill so we could play Springside School. They wanted to keep some normal activities for us,” she said.

For junior year, Tockie’s family sent her to a boarding school in New Hampshire in the hopes that being in a rural environment would allow for more time outside. “It ended up being a terrible experience,” said Mrs. Baker.

“We were stuck inside at the boarding school even more than at Agnes Irwin due to wartime restrictions. But we did get to hike in the mountains, and I learned to ski.”

Rather than attend college, Mrs. Baker took a course in shorthand which “got me a job in real estate.” During World War II, women filled roles traditionally held by men, including shorthand typists and stenographers, which were vital for processing large volumes of information quickly and maintaining communication. In 1948, she married her husband of sixty-five years Henry Baker and moved to Baltimore, Maryland. They had three children, Robin, Sandra, and Stockton. Mrs. Baker is now a greatgrandmother of four.

“My love for being active and the outdoors has always stayed with me,” she said. She continued hiking in New Hampshire, where she summited all forty-eight of the White Mountain 4,000-footers. “I’ve also hiked over eighty-five percent of the Appalachian Trail, even after two knee replacements,” she laughed.

Motivated by a deep desire to teach and help others, Mrs. Baker became an Appalachian Trail volunteer. “For more than thirty years, I taught hikers and guides about the trails twice a week,” she said. In the 1994 issue of this publication, Mrs. Baker’s Class Note reads: “Tockie puts us all to shame with her extensive hiking, skiing—both downhill and cross-country—tennis, and biking. Her passion for hiking has led to her work with the Appalachian Trail Conservancy in both information and development.” Mrs. Baker reflected, “I kept teaching until I couldn’t drive anymore!”

Mrs. Baker circa 1990 at the beginning of the Appalachian Trail in Springer Mountain, Georgia.

Mrs. Baker’s 1944 Agnes Irwin senior portrait.

Passionate researcher Jean Bradley Anderson ’42 was conferred her PhD from University of Pennsylvania on September 4, 2024, just a few months after her 100th birthday.

Jean Bradley Anderson ’42

HISTORIAN & AUTHOR

On June 8, 2024, all eyes were on Jean Bradley Anderson ’42 in the Durham County Library. One of several experts speaking about the importance of local histories, Mrs. Anderson had spent decades researching and writing about Durham County, NC. One of her six books, Durham County , published by Duke University Press in 1990 and expanded in 2011 when Mrs. Anderson was 87 years old, is considered the authoritative text on the history of Durham.

But there was another reason to gather that day – it was to celebrate Mrs. Anderson’s 100th birthday, which had occurred on June 1. “Nobody has given

Durham more of an understanding of its past than Jean Bradley Anderson,” said Lynn Richardson, retired librarian of the North Carolina Collection at the Durham Library. “Her papers and work are a treasure trove of information. Thank you, Jean, for all you’ve done to bring Durham’s past to light. And, happy birthday!”

Remarkably, Mrs. Anderson’s centennial birthday and participation on the panel were harbingers of yet another capstone moment. Just three months later, on September 4, 2024, she received a letter in the mail from The University of Pennsylvania O ce of the Dean:

Mrs. Anderson poses with her book, Durham County, circa 1990.

PHOTO CREDIT: AMY STERN

“I am very much for single-sex education. Women bloom best when not in the company of men.”

Dear Ms. Jean Bradley Anderson, It is with great pleasure that the University of Pennsylvania has decided to award you the Doctor of Philosophy degree in Faculty, recognizing your outstanding academic accomplishments, significant achievements in the field of English as a graduate student, and your distinguished career as a local historian. Your academic journey is a remarkable testament to your dedication and resilience … and your scholarly contributions to the field of local history are unparalleled.

Congratulations on this well-deserved honor. It is a privilege to acknowledge your remarkable contributions and award you this esteemed degree.

The awarding of her PhD was the icing on the 100th birthday cake. “The letter is proof I wasn’t fantasizing,” wrote Mrs. Anderson in an email to Agnes Irwin in which she shared the news of her PhD. “I was a student in the English Department at Penn for ten years,” said Mrs. Anderson. “I started as an undergraduate in 1942. I began my Master’s in 1946. After that, I worked toward my PhD. I met my husband as a graduate student. When he got a job teaching at Norwich University in Vermont, we moved and went on to have children. Due to geography and responsibilities, I was unable to finish my PhD.”

Born in 1924, Mrs. Anderson grew up in Philadelphia on Pine Street with her father, a pediatrician, mother (who sadly passed away when she was twelve), and sister, Marion Audrey Bradley, Agnes Irwin Class of 1934. Chronicling her path, Mrs. Anderson recalled:

“It was predetermined that I would go to Agnes Irwin School. My sister, Marion, first went to Miss Wharton’s School on

Pine Street. My parents thought Miss Wharton was too stern and too strict, so they moved Marion to what was the first location of The Agnes Irwin School on Delancey Street. My parents wanted me to go too, but at that time, the school began in the fifth grade, so I attended Miss Jennie Wilson’s School. In his Plymouth, my father would drive Marion to Delancey Street and then take me to Miss Jennie’s. When I reached fifth grade, I moved from Miss Jennie’s to Irwin’s School, along with four of my classmates.”

Drives with her father played a key role in shaping Mrs. Anderson’s growing interest in history. “Virtually every Sunday, my father would take our family along to visit historic houses in the area. He was 53 when I was born and had a deep passion for history. I remember my father driving along the Schuylkill River. At home, he documented the sites we visited in a large volume that I have to this day. That instilled in me a love for historic properties that has stayed with me throughout my life.”

Despite having grown up during World War II, Mrs. Anderson recalls being largely sheltered from its hardships and staying busy with school. Her most vivid memories, however, are of men of all ages sitting on the streets — “One sold pencils, and many sold apples. Some were begging,” she said. She also remembers her father reading the stock market reports at night, lamenting the state of the economy. While some museums were closed during the war, she and her father continued to visit Memorial Hall [now the Please Touch Museum]. “We could go inside, but there were no lights and no tours,” she said.

When asked about her memories from her time at Agnes Irwin, Mrs. Anderson

Mrs. Anderson’s 1942 Agnes Irwin senior portrait.

Agnes Irwin senior portrait of Marion Audrey Bradley ’34, Mrs. Anderson’s older sister.

responded enthusiastically, “Oh yes! I loved my teachers. I remember fondly Miss Ashley, Miss Hirshfield, Mr. Ibbotson, Miss Irish and Miss Lent. When I started at Agnes Irwin, I was very intentional about distinguishing myself from my sister. I played every sport, since Marion wasn’t very athletic,” she laughed. “Miss Lent, who taught English, recognized my talent for writing and was the one who encouraged me to apply to the University of Pennsylvania.”

Mrs. Anderson vividly recalls a beloved teacher’s remarkable tale of survival during World War II — one of many stories that likely live on only through her memory: “Miss Eliza Steck [Class of 1924] taught Physics and was quite the Anglophile. When World War II broke out, she was determined to get to England. She left her teaching post and boarded a Polish freighter heading for England. While on board, the freighter was torpedoed by a German U-boat. Miss Steck managed to escape in a lifeboat, where she survived for ten days. The Polish crew tried to throw her overboard because they held a superstition that women were a curse on lifeboats. But on the tenth morning, the fog lifted, and a British destroyer appeared, rescuing everyone on the lifeboat, including Miss Steck.” As for how Mrs. Anderson knew this remarkable story so intimately, she explained, “Miss Steck told me this story herself! Of course, I’ve never forgotten. In 1949, my classmate Molly Koch Baer and I sailed to England on a Holland America ship, the New Amsterdam. The voyage took four days, and we spent six weeks in Europe during which time we visited Miss Steck.”

In 1955, Mrs. Anderson’s husband, Mr. Carl Anderson, finished his PhD and took a position at Duke University. “In 1957, I

began teaching freshman English at Duke for three years until my husband had a sabbatical in Europe. When we returned, I began to do research on my own. Many people have ancestors who came through North Carolina and they all wrote to the courthouses to have somebody work on their ancestries. That somebody turned out to be me. I found the stories so interesting. In 1961, I jumped full time into researching and writing about Durham’s local history and it went from there.”

During her centennial birthday gathering at the Durham County Library, Mrs. Anderson concluded about the importance of history: “History is another dimension. When you look back at the past, you broaden your horizons and deepen your understanding of where you are, why the community is the way it is, who all the people are, where they came from, and where they’re coming from now. It gives me enormous pleasure and enriches my life and I hope other people have that experience too.”

Mrs. Anderson remarked that today’s Agnes Irwin girls are “much savvier and more sophisticated” than she was. “Girls today have easy access to research and knowledge through technology. I am very much for single-sex education. Women bloom best when not in the company of men.” Mrs. Anderson notes that she was sheltered for most of her life. “I think I must have been very naive. I never expected to work. I never thought the world would keep changing. My perception began to change in college but my eyes really opened when writing about Durham County.” When asked to o er a bit of advice to current Agnes Irwin students, Mrs. Anderson drew on Socratic philosophy, urging: “Moderation in all things you do!”

“History is another dimension. When you look back at the past, you broaden your horizons and deepen your understanding ...”

A stack of Mrs. Anderson’s published titles.

Caroline Casey Brandt ’49

MINIATURE BOOK COLLECTOR & AUTHOR

In letters to The Agnes Irwin School, Caroline Brandt ’49, now ninety-eight, shared stories of her childhood and her lifelong passion for collecting miniature books.

In 2003, Caroline Casey Brandt ’49 donated her collection of 12,000 miniature books to the University of Virginia. The McGehee Miniature Book Collection, named after her first husband who was an alumnus, is now endowed and includes over 18,000 titles.

In 2018, a blog entry from the Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library, which houses the McGehee Miniature Book Collection, read: “Collector Caroline Brandt has spent most of her life building a collection of miniature books. In this exhibition, you will see that when great printers, binders, and publishers decide to make miniature books, the results are stunning. These are works of exquisite craft, structural diversity, and outsized beauty.”

Images from Mrs. Brandt’s miniature book collection, housed in the University of Virginia Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library. PHOTO

August 27, 2023

My passion for miniature books

“My family spent four years in Europe in the 1930s. My two older brothers were in a boarding school in French-speaking Switzerland, and I lived with my parents in Paris. Many of the little French girls were receiving their First Communion in the spring and wore white organdy dresses with bonnets and veils. I was enchanted with them. To appease me, my Protestant parents bought a First Communion outfit for my Shirley Temple doll. With the outfit, the shopkeeper kindly dropped in a tiny prayer book. It is titled Le Petit Paroissien de L’Enfance. It measures 1 ¼ × 1 1⁄16 inches, has ivory covers, an aqua velvet spine and satin endpapers. A beautiful little book and my first miniature book.

My father Herbert S. Casey’s birthday was December 26th, the day after Christmas. He loved the season and collected books on Christmas customs. In 1935, he purchased Achille St. Onge’s first book Noel. Price $1. It is now in my collection and still in its original gold paper box. [My father] was on the St. Onge mailing list, and my mother started buying some of his books for me.

Years later, in 1970, an article appeared in our local paper about a Richmond (Virginia) miniature book collector named Elizabeth A. Lapsley. [We] became good friends. She taught me much about little books and introduced me to important reference material. [S]he advised me on where to look for miniature books locally, and later in Tokyo when we visited the Far East. She was greatly missed by me after her premature death in 1977. In time, I was able to acquire much of her collection.

In 1983, I met Miriam Irwin, a key figure in promoting the appreciation of miniature books, at a convention in Ashland, Virginia. A [subsequent] meeting resulted in the formation of the Miniature Book Society (MBS). I was o and running! What a joy it has been meeting so many wonderful printers, publishers and collectors who became beloved friends.

As a charter member of the Miniature Book Society, I attended every Conclave from 1983 to 2018. I helped draft the original bylaws, served as treasurer and president, and chaired the 1991 Conclave in Williamsburg, Virginia. My proudest achievement came in 2021 when my Aldus Manutis received the MBS Distinguished Book Award. I also founded Cyclone Books, which has published seven miniature books, and I have been involved with or produced several others.”

“the shopkeeper kindly dropped in a tiny prayer book ... [with] ivory covers, an aqua velvet spine and satin endpapers. A beautiful little book and my first miniature book.”

Achille St. Onge (1913–1978) was a publisher of miniature books from Worcester, MA. He began publishing as a hobby in 1935, and by the time he stopped in 1977, he had created fortyeight miniature books, which are prized by collectors. St. Onge’s publications are known for their uniformity of size, beautiful bindings and elegance and clarity of design.

With endearing prescience, the entry for Caroline Yarnall Casey (née) in the 1949 Agnes Irwin yearbook seems to have foretold the path of her life:

“‘What’s going on?’ ‘What’s happening?’ We know Caroline has appeared upon the scene. Then we all stop to listen – we have to! Her vibrant conversation will keep us entertained for weeks.”

March 31, 2021

My earliest memories of Agnes Irwin

“I loved [Agnes Irwin] and made some of my best lifetime friends there. We had a wonderful French teacher who also taught us fine sewing. I still have the handkerchief case I made for my mother with hem stitching, ru ed lace edges, and French seams. Madame was very strict. We all had to work a length of each stitch before we used it in our work. I am completely awed by the quality of my stitching at age nine.

In Middle School, we all loved Miss Gra who taught English and grammar and introduced us to wonderful books. We also learned how to write acceptance, regret, thank you, and condolence notes which has been extremely useful all my life. In Upper School, I fondly remember my art teacher, Miss Ridpath, who inspired me to major in art history [in college] and then find work at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts in Richmond.

Our senior year, Miss Murphy and Mrs. Bartol were named Associate Headmistresses. There were over forty of us in our 1945 graduating class, and when we were told that at graduation we should process in two-at-a-time, we adamantly refused. Mrs. Bartol, who was newly arrived, said, ‘Very well, girls. You may file in singly … but there will be no diploma waiting for you.’ That took care of that. I always admired how she handled this.

I was not athletic, and hockey was the bane of my existence. Miss Constance Applebee, the British woman who introduced girls field hockey in the U.S., came to Irwin’s, and I was scared to death of her. When I went to college, I thought, ‘No more Miss Applebee!’ but I was wrong. She came to Sweet Briar. One day, during one of her visits, I was on the field trying to be invisible. One of the players was chewing gum. Horrors! Miss Applebee called her over. ‘What have you got in your mouth?’ [she asked]. ‘Gum, Miss Applebee’ (thick Southern accent). ‘Take it out of your mouth!’ she replied. ‘Put it on the end of your stick,’ (Huh?) ‘Now, follow it down the field!’ I’ve never forgotten that.”

Mrs. Brandt’s 1949 Agnes Irwin senior portrait.

A conversation with Mrs. Brandt

at her home in Richmond, Virginia about life as a school girl during World War II

“I attended Agnes Irwin’s Wynnewood campus during World War II. Most of our fathers and brothers were serving in the armed forces, including my own father and two brothers. My one brother flew reconnaissance aircraft in France. My father was in the Red Cross in North Africa. So my mother was stuck with me. She was very active with Valley Forge General Hospital and the Naval Hospital in downtown Philadelphia. Instead of her keeping track of where I was, I was often home wondering where she was! She worked late, often until 11 p.m. I remember buying cloth shoes because, at that time, leather was rationed.

The worst thing I can remember is hearing that a ship of Jewish refugees arrived from Nazi Germany, seeking asylum, but they were not allowed to disembark. They were sent back to Europe where I’m sure most perished at Auschwitz. It was terrible. [Mrs. Brandt was referring to the 1939 Voyage of the St. Louis.]

Our teachers tried to keep things as normal as possible. I read a lot about what was going on in Europe and listened to news on the radio. I loved Irwin’s – it absolutely influenced my life. I think it is wonderful that Irwin’s school is a more diverse place now. It kept up with the world! It was a great school for girls then – and still is.”

October 2024 -

“I

think it is wonderful that Irwin’s school is a more diverse place now. It kept up with the world! It was a great school for girls then – and still is.”

Editor’s Note: The body text of this article is set at 11pt to enhance the typographic accessibility for a broader range of readers.

Agnes Irwin senior portrait of Eleanor Hampton Verner, Class of 1915, Mrs. Brandt’s mother.

Left: Mrs. Brandt in her Agnes Irwin uniform. Right: Ballytore Castle, the former Clothier estate in Wynnewood, served as Agnes Irwin’s campus from 1933-1957.

From the Archives

Marguerite Fitzgerald Phillips Class of 1910

During the research phase for this issue’s alumnae feature, To Live a Legacy (p. 30), it was discovered that Marguerite Fitzgerald Phillips ’10, mother of Tockie Townsend Baker ’42 (p. 30), was not included in the 1910 Agnes Irwin yearbook. When we asked Mrs. Baker if she knew why, she replied, “The reason my mother’s senior photo is not featured in the 1910 Agnes Irwin yearbook is because she didn’t go to school that year. She had planned to go on an extended, chaperoned trip to Europe, but got appendicitis. The recovery was long so she had to skip the trip and was also unable to go back to Agnes Irwin.”

To ensure Marguerite Fitzgerald Philips ’10 has her place in the Agnes Irwin archives, we are thrilled to feature her here on Squam Lake, New Hampshire, during the summer of 1912. “In this photo, my mother was getting ready to go out in the canoe at Rockywold [Deephaven Camps],” shared Mrs. Baker.

—Thank you to the Baker family for sharing the image and the memories.