From the Archives: The 50 Year Member - Talkin' Bout My Obligations

by Midnight Freemason Contributor

Bill Hosler, PM

Pudge was sitting comfortably in one of the newly restored leather wingback chairs in a quiet corner of the Temple’s Social room. Pudge seems quite happy while looking at a pad of drawings with a group of the lodge’s younger Brethren. The group was talking and laughing with cigars in their hands as the 50 Year member walked into the room. A smile came across the old man’s face as the sound of young men laughing took him to an earlier time on a cloud of cigar smoke. “It’s just like old times.", the old man thought to himself.

As the 50 Year member approached the men, he could begin to hear some of their conversations. “I like that one.” Said one young man “Have you seen the Superman I have on my calf with the Square and Compass on his chest in place of the letter "S"? I finally got the coloring finished on it.” The 50-year member laughed and said, “It must be hard coloring something on your calf. I hope you stayed within the lines.” the old man said with a laugh in his voice. The group checked. “Pudge looked up and saw the 50-year member. “Hi,John! Hey, do you have any tattoos?” The old man smiled. “Nah, back in my day the only guys who got tattoos were either servicemen, while they were away from home or prisoners who got them while they were in prison. Neither of which I would have been, my mother would have killed me.” The crowd laughed as the old man slipped quietly into a leather chair. The group continued to discuss various kinds of tattoos and showing each other pictures of Masonic tattoos that they found on Google while doing their research on the topic.

Hearing the laughter while walking down the hallway on the way to the lodge room, Past Master Herb Johnson ventured into the Social room and began to listen silently to the young men’s conversation. Herb piped in after he heard the 50-year member's response to the younger guys. “No John wouldn’t have a Masonic tattoo. John remembers the obligations that he took!” Herb said in a gruff voice.

The young men sat silent for a second and looked at each other. They all seemed confused. One young man said hesitantly in a quiet voice “It’s unMasonic to get a tattoo?" Herb stood up and arched his back and said in the know-it-all authoritarian voice, “It is if you get a Masonic tattoo!” Herb said, matter-of-factly. “You kids have already forgotten, "I will not print, paint…” Each with an uneasy feeling, the entire group of men began to steal glances at each other, worried and questioning if they were all going to be in a great deal of trouble. Herb continued “Yep. If you got one of those tattoos, the lodge might have to file charges on you for expulsion.” The group started talking to each other in quiet scared voices.

The 50-year member began to laugh so hard he began to shake in glee, as he slapped his knee. The old man eventually gained his composure again as he wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes, “John this is no laughing matter. This is serious business!” Herb said. The 50-year member began laughing again and said to Herb through his laughter, in a mocking tone, “Oh yes it is Herb. You have them quaking in their boots at the thought of a Masonic trial. I hope you are as equally prepared as these young men will be when the un-Masonic charges are filed against you.” The old man was laughing so hard he could barely stand up from his chair.

Herbert, who began to sputter while his face reddened with anger looked at the old man and said in a high nasal tone, "File charges against me!? Why I never! I have been a member of this lodge for almost as long as you have! I have never done anything that can be considered un-Masonic in my entire adult life! I served this lodge as Master four times! I served on several Grand Lodge committees-- I have been a model…” The 50-year member interrupted Herb’s tirade “Oh Herb, I know! That’s why it will be a sad day when I walk into the lodge room and see the Tyler using his sword to keep you from gaining admittance. It will be a downright shame.” Sweat began to drip down Herb's forehead as his fists were balled up in anger. “So what is the evidence against me that you are going to use?” Herb said in a quiet voice, trying to calm his anger.

The 50-year member said, "Basically the same evidence you are planning on using against these “kids”, as you call them. Violating their obligations to keep secrets. Herb, you know as well as I do that the only real secrets of this Fraternity are its words and grips, and you know as well as I do you can pick up a hundred books or get on the internet and find those. These young men aren’t going to tattoo those words on their bodies. That’s stupid. If you ever bothered to talk to these young men before acting all high and mighty, you'd discover they are going to tattoo Masonic symbols like the square and compass, symbols from the York Rite or the Scottish Rite. Just like the ones you have on the back of your car and if I am honest, I've seen on the mailbox at your house, and I know we as a lodge have contributed to your guilt by giving you plaques and certificates through the years with those incriminating symbols on them. So I think if these young men are guilty of a Masonic crime then sadly Brother, you are guilty, nay, more guilty than the rest, because you have been in the Craft long enough to know better.

The 50-year member got quiet. The sound of the silence in the room was deafening. The old man said, in a quieter, more calm voice “I’m sorry if you think I'm rough on you Herb, but dang it! I feel like you have it coming. You might know our ritual front to back, but you haven’t bothered to learn the meaning of one single word in which you've memorized. But that doesn’t stop you from spouting off pieces of ritual, trying to act like an expert on the matter when you haven’t the slightest clue what you are talking about."

The old man continues “Sadly you aren’t the only one with this particular notion. Think back to last month when the lodge was discussing men, for goodness sake, policemen, carrying their legally owned pistols to a lodge meeting. Sadly, I knew as soon as the discussion began, some poor, uneducated Brother would stand up and utter the phrase “I will carry nothing offensive or defensive into the lodge room with me.” And I was surely not disappointed, because it didn’t take long for the phrase to be uttered. Do you know what gets me? I bet that poor ignorant Brother and every man who grunted his agreement to that phrase was nodding his head while he was carrying a pocket knife in his pants pocket. Should we have the Tyler frisk each brother before he enters the room? Or better yet make them pass through a metal detector to ensure he isn’t carrying anything metallic into the lodge? If we are going to misquote ritual, we might as well go all the way with this silliness."

“Brother we both know that line is about a candidate, not for a Master Mason attending a stated meeting. It’s just one of my pet peeves that we either use pieces of our ritual wrong, or worse yet, we purposely twist a bit of the ritual, out of context in order to further our argument or to prove a point to someone who is as equally ignorant into the meaning of those words we've all memorized, but we can’t call them on it because it will cause “Disharmony” within the lodge.”

The 50-year member paused for a moment as Herb’s head began to lower “Brother all I am saying is we are either going to hold all members to the same standards, or we will continue to see this Fraternity further erode. The days of saying one thing but meaning another have to stop before we drive off every new member. If we are going to make good men better, we need to do it through education and teaching actual Masonic education, not through twisted, bastardized ritual which has lost it meaning through the years because we have misapplied it." The old man smiled. “OK, I am now going to step down from my soap box and get ready for the lodge meeting. Herb go in and gets us some good seats, will you?”

Herb slowly backed away. “Honest John. I think I am going to head home. I don’t feel so good right now. I think I am going to take one of my Nitro pills and head for the house.” One of the younger men of the group stepped out of the crowd and said to Herb. “Brother, my name is Tim. I am a paramedic by trade. Why don’t you sit down here and let me examine you? You look a little flushed. If you are feeling that bad, I don’t want you traveling home by yourself." He continued,  "After I look you over if you still don’t feel well, I’ll take you home, or if need be to the Emergency Room. You shouldn’t be left on your own if you feel that bad.” Herb looked up at Tim and said in a weak voice. You are going to help me even after how bad I was talking about you kids? Are you sure?” Tim just smiled, took Herb and sat him in one of the wingback chairs, and said, “Of course! I may not know all the ritual as well as some of the guys here, but one part I do know and remember quite well is “I will help, aid and assist.” It’s not only my obligation, but I live it every day of my life." Tim took Herb's hand, “Now just be still, let me have a look at you.” He looked at the crowd and said as he threw his car keys in the air, “Hey Pudge go to my trunk and get my paramedic bag out of the trunk please.” Tim then looked back to Herb and started his usual questions “So tell me Brother are you having any pains? Nausea?” …

~BH

WB Bill Hosler was made a Master Mason in 2002 in Three Rivers Lodge #733 in Indiana. He served as Worshipful Master in 2007 and became a member of the internet committee for Indiana's Grand Lodge. Bill is currently a member of Roff Lodge No. 169 in Roff Oklahoma and Lebanon Lodge No. 837 in Frisco,Texas. Bill is also a member of the Valley of Fort Wayne Ancient Accepted Scottish Rite in Indiana. A typical active Freemason, Bill also served as the High Priest of Fort Wayne's Chapter of the York Rite No. 19 and was commander of of the Fort Wayne Commandery No. 4 of the Knight Templar. During all this he also served as the webmaster and magazine editor for the Mizpah Shrine in Fort Wayne Indiana.

The Night Before Christmas, Down At The Lodge

The Night Before Christmas, Down At the Lodge

'Twas the Night before Christmas, and down at the Lodge

Not a gavel was stirring, and in the hodge-podge

Of aprons and jewels and chairs East and West

you could savor the silence, most gladly divest

All metal and mineral, it mattered not,

since Christmas was nigh and the coals were still hot

In the hearth of your homestead, all Masons abed,

as visions of trestle boards danced in their head;

When up on the roof there arose such a clatter,

Our Tiler jumped up to see what was the matter!

He picked up his sword and ran fast to the door,

three knocks shook the panels - he wondered 'What for?'

He answered the knocking with, raps of his own,

and once the door opened he saw, with a moan

Of delight it was Santa, all jolly and red

Except for one notable feature Instead!

Upon his large finger lie wore what we knew

was compass and square on a background of blue!

'Why Santa!' he shouted and lowered his blade

'I see you're a Mason!' the Tiler relayed.

He looked toward the Master's most dignified chair

and said, voice near trembling, 'Most Worshipful there

Is a Gentleman properly clothed at the gate!'

The Master replied, 'Let's allow him - but wait!

You tell me a Gentleman, but I don't see

His Apron beneath that red suit, can it be

Our visitor hasn't been properly raised?

Must we offer a test that is suitably phrased?

'I do beg your pardon,' old' Santa said quick

As he pulled up his coat and displayed not a stick

But a cane with, engraving, two balls did appear

and oh, what an apron, he wore and held dear!

Adorned like the Master' complete with a sign

Of "Lodge Number One, the North Pole" on one line!

"Now let man enter," the Master declared,

and once in the Lodge room the Brethren all stared,

For Santa was wearing a jewel not seen

for many a century - there in between

The fur of his coat and the splendid red collar

gleamed two golden reindeer that shone like a dollar!

"It's Donner and Blitzen, who, I must confess

Are actually images brought from the West

By my Warden, a craftsman like none in the world!"

And with a great laugh from his bag he unfurled

An ear of fine corn and some oil from the east,

"My friend I have plenty, tonight we will feast

On all that is good! We are Masons, kind sir!"

A murmur went throughout the Lodge, quite a stir,

As presents and promises flew from his sack

This Santa, a Mason, showed he had a knack

For making this Christmas the best you could glean,

And soon even Deacons were laughing, they'd seen

On this very night only happiness reigned!

This jolly Saint Nicholas quickly explained

That only a Mason could be so inclined

to make all kids happy, make all people find

A Christmas so special, yes, Santa was right!

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

I don't know where this came from originally.  It was forwarded to me.  I really enjoyed it, and thought you might enjoy it also. 

Merry Christmas!

~TEC

The Boiled Hotdogs

by Midnight Freemason Contributor

Robert H. Johnson

Joining Freemasonry over 11 years ago, I think back about all kinds of experiences. The degrees, the fellowship, the camaraderie, and of course, the goofy stuff too. What goofy stuff you might ask? You know, the stuff we joke about all the time. In fact stuff we've grown to complain so much about, they become internet memes plastered all over Reddit or Facebook.

One of my most favorite of which is below. I have a new favorite every month. 

Somethings I remember about Lodge are totally inconsequential to my overall experience, yet are nuanced memories that pop in my head--sometimes met with nostalgia, sometimes warm and fuzzy feelings, sometimes embarrassment, and sometimes nausea.

The title of the article mentions boiled hotdogs. That's one of those gnarly and nauseating memories. As I recall it, it was a Monday night, a practice night. The new Sr. Warden, an older fellow with a southern flair was really excited. He made dinner. He was raving about these "big @ss, hotdogs", he'd bought. I gotta break in here for just a moment because I really like hotdogs. Grilled outside on the BBQ, on the Foreman, panfried--I'll eat a hotdog. Here's my only catch--I only eat all-beef hotdogs.

So, there I was. I was starving, had just finished a ritual practice where I was beaten up about how terrible I was, and I walked into the dining room. I grabbed a mini bag of Doritos (Nacho flavor if you're curious), and there it was. That foot-and-a-half tall stainless steel pot of hot water. An opaque sheen of otherworldly substance floated on the top, only broken by the plumped, bursting, and over-boiled hotdog. Tongs with rust at the hinges laid out on the table.

I picked up those tongs, gave them a few open-and-closes, as any man does before use. They squeaked. I stared at the mist coming off of the hot water, at the pearlescent sheen and those fat, rotund, odious hotdogs floating there. I looked up and locked eyes with the Sr. Warden--his hulking mass, his tremendous smile from ear to ear. He was so proud of this meal. I was proud of him too. But there I was and time stood still. I smiled back. I plunged the tongs into the pot with the apprehension of an 8-year-old boy sleeping over at a friend's house and the family has some god-awful weird thing to eat.

"Nothing But Trouble" The Hot Dog Scene. It's gross. Watch it here.

As a kid, maybe you get out of it. "Oh I gotta run home for a minute." or "I just remembered. I am supposed to eat at home. I'll be back after dinner." But I was 32. A grown man. I had to do it. I looked back at the pot and was able to get a hold of one of these hotdogs. I shook it a bit to get the excess grease sweat off of it. And the flaccidity of it--it just broke and fell into the pot again. I dove in again for a second one. Got it. I didn't shake it off. I just tossed it in the bun, I covered it with mustard, relish, giardiniera, and grabbed a Coke.

I was able to eat about two-thirds of that hotdog. You know when you eat something and literally, the second it hits your stomach, you know you shouldn't eat anymore? Yeah, I did too. I at more of it anyway. I couldn't be rude. He was so proud. So I did it. I took one for the team. I choked it down and thanked the Brother for the meal. As I cleaned the kitchen that night with the stewards, I looked in the garbage can to see what exactly I had just eaten. What did the lodge pay for? What would the members be paying for tonight and tomorrow?

My suspicions were confirmed when I found the packaging. It was an off-brand, made with everything you don't want to know about. I paid the bill for eating that hotdog, and so did a bunch of Brothers. Thinking back in my memories of Freemasonry, that's one I will never forget. That's one of those nauseating memories.

What about you? I know you have a story too. Let me read all about it in the comments. Freemasonry is amazing, but there's some bad stuff too.

~RHJ

RWB Johnson is a Co-Managing Editor of the Midnight Freemasons blog. He is a Freemason out of the 2nd N.E. District of Illinois. He currently serves as the Secretary of Spes Novum Lodge No. 1183. He is a Past Master of Waukegan Lodge 78 and a Past District Deputy Grand Master for the 1st N.E. District of Illinois. Brother Johnson currently produces and hosts weekly Podcasts (internet radio programs) Whence Came You? & Masonic Radio Theatre which focuses on topics relating to Freemasonry. He is also a co-host of The Masonic Roundtable, a Masonic talk show. He is a husband and father of four, works full time in the executive medical industry. He is the co-author of "It's Business Time - Adapting a Corporate Path for Freemasonry", “The Master’s Word: A Short Treatise on the Word, the Light, and the Self – Annotated Edition” and author of "How to Charter a Lodge: A No-Nonsense, Unsanctioned Guide. More books are on the way.

The Masonic Jig

by Midnight Freemason Contributor

Steven L. Harrison, 33°, FMLR

I stand in the back of the Lodge room, acting as Marshal in this Entered Apprentice initiation. The Worshipful Master turns and walks back into the arch formed by the Stewards' staffs. He stops and stands still. I wait for my signal. After about two seconds – TWO SECONDS – the signal doesn't come. And about five guys start doing the Masonic Jig.

The Masonic Jig goes something like this: the performer raises his hands in the air and then brings them down, almost violently, while flexing his knees downward. At the same time he whisper-shouts "Lights down! Lights down." The dancer performs the motion over and over until the room becomes dark. The astute reader will actually recognize this as a form of K-Pop. Who says Freemasons aren't hip?

The Master, as it turns out, was waiting for his signal to turn which he thought was the room going dark. I was waiting for my signal to darken the room which I knew to be the Master turning. A two second deadlock developed, which was other Brothers' signal to flail like monkeys on a hot griddle, at least momentarily damaging the dignity of the occasion.

I promise, in a couple more seconds I'd have figured it out and turned down the lights. Failing that, instead of the simian boogaloo I would much have preferred a single proctor saying, "lights down, please." Properly delivered the candidate might have thought that was part of the ceremony.

Ahhh… the Peanut Gallery. That ever-present bevy of Brothers ready to spring into action with corrections the instant a speaker says "your" instead of "thy" or "blessings and mercies" instead of "mercies and blessings." This affliction is a corollary to the Masonic Jig known as Masonic Tourette Syndrome.

These disorders are so prevalent in Missouri we must read a statement before each Master Mason degree prompting the Brothers to cool it. Paraphrasing here, the document reminds Brothers the Third Degree is a solemn and meaningful experience, not an opportunity to audition to become a Shrine clown.

When I was Master (Translation: "Back in my day, sonny"), I sometimes appointed a proctor and requested the other Brothers let him prompt for corrections in a more controlled and orderly fashion. This was somewhat effective although I have to admit I always appointed the most offending and disruptive Brother to that position knowing he wouldn't play second fiddle to anyone else, and would jump in anyway. It was cheating but the end justifies the means, right?

So, let's say it's a First Degree and the Chaplain offers this prayer, "Vouchsafe thine aid, Great Architect of the Universe, to this our present convention…" OMG! If that doesn't call for a nuclear Tourette blast I don't know what does. But here's the thing… neither the candidate receiving the degree nor any non-Mason reading this has a clue as to why. Let it ride, people! The words may have been changed but the meaning wasn't. The candidate will walk away thinking, "that was a beautiful prayer," instead of, "I wonder if God was able to hear the prayer over all that shouting from the sidelines."

Y'know, a letter-perfect ritual is great, but if I go to a meeting in Kansas, just 20 miles west of my house, I don't even recognize half the ritual. Again, the meaning is far more important than getting the exact words, in order, letter perfect. Heck, nobody can do that anyway.

I guess each one of us just needs to make sure we're not disruptive and maybe gently remind the Peanut Gallery to dial it down in the ceremonies. A little decorum does not go a long way. These ceremonies require large doses of it, especially when candidates are involved. I think the next time I'm Master (yeah, that's likely) I'll just hang a banner in the east that says, "Masonic ceremonies are not study clubs."

~SLH

Bro. Steve Harrison, 33° , is Past Master of Liberty Lodge #31, Liberty, Missouri. He is also a Fellow and Past Master of the Missouri Lodge of Research. Among his other Masonic memberships are the St. Joseph Missouri Valley of the Scottish Rite, Liberty York Rite bodies, and Moila Shrine. He is also a member and Past Dean of the DeMolay Legion of Honor. Brother Harrison is a regular contributor to the Midnight Freemasons blog as well as several other Masonic publications. Brother Steve was Editor of the Missouri Freemason magazine for a decade and is a regular contributor to the Whence Came You podcast. Born in Indiana, he has a Master's Degree from Indiana University and is retired from a 35 year career in information technology. Steve and his wife Carolyn reside in northwest Missouri. He is the author of dozens of magazine articles and three books: Freemasonry Crosses the Mississippi, Freemasons — Tales From the Craft and Freemasons at Oak Island.

The Herald

by Midnight Freemason Contributor

by Steven L. Harrison, 33°, FMLR

About a year ago I joined the Red Cross of Constantine. It's a Royal Arch body with, shall we say, a bit of a complex degree structure compared to other Masonic organizations. At this point I'm still a novice and not well-versed in its organization and practices.

Recently I attended what was only my fourth or fifth meeting owing, in part, to the fact we were dark for three months.  We held the meeting in a local restaurant with a spacious back room well-suited for such purposes.  I went in and stopped at a table to talk to the Secretary – I mean, Recorder. (I still don't have a handle on all the officers' titles).  As I was talking to him, a couple other guys walked up behind me. It was a trap.  

"Steve," they said in unison, "the incoming Sovereign needs a Sentinel for next year. Would you be willing to step in and help him out?"

"Oh, uh," I babbled on about being honored but having commitments and not knowing if I could do justice to the job – and basically anything else I could think of that did not involve the word "yes."

It was three against one. Before I knew what had happened I had agreed to be next year's Sentinel.  "Not a big commitment," I told myself, "and I'm helping the Brothers (actually, Knight Companions) out."

That settled, we sat down to open the Chapter – I mean, Conclave. (I still have a lot to learn). It wasn't a standard opening since we were not in a Lodge room, but we went through the verbal part of the ceremony. At one point, there came a series of knocks followed by an uncomfortable silence.  A friend seated next to me leaned over and whispered, "Return the knocks… you're the Sentinel."

I whispered back, "I thought that was next year."

"No," he said, "I think you're it now."

I knocked, and the remainder of the opening went off without a hitch.  We had our dinner and started the business portion of the meeting.  It came to light that So-and-So, the Thus-and-Such officer had to drop out of line.  Discussion followed and it became obvious all officers below Thus-and-Such would move up. So I became the Herald-designate for next year. "Congratulations," said my buddy sitting next to me.

Business finished, it was time to close.  The formal closing proceeded until the Eminent Viceroy (second in command) declared the Conclave closed and sealed the deal with the same series of knocks from the opening.  Again, there was an uncomfortable period of silence. As before, the companion next to me stepped in, "Steve, you're the Herald. You're supposed to return the raps."

"I thought I was the Sentinel. I'm supposed to be the Herald next term."

"No," he advised, "You're the Herald now."  I followed up with raps that would make any Herald proud.

So, let's recap. I went into the meeting a member with no particular duties or responsibilities. Then I became the Sentinel-designate; then I became the Sentinel; then I became the Herald-designate; then I became the Herald.

That's the way it goes sometimes in our various Masonic bodies.   I'm sure similar things have happened to others. It took me five years to become Worshipful Master of my Lodge, a journey that would ordinarily take ten in my jurisdiction. One Brother I know did it in two. When membership declines, when Brothers fall out of line for one reason or another, others have to step in. We all wish it was different but Freemasonry isn't the only membership organization experiencing this in our activity-saturated lives today. So I'm glad my reluctance subsided and I am able to step in and help out. I am also honored they asked.

~SLH

Bro. Steve Harrison, 33° , is Past Master of Liberty Lodge #31, Liberty, Missouri. He is also a Fellow and Past Master of the Missouri Lodge of Research. Among his other Masonic memberships are the St. Joseph Missouri Valley of the Scottish Rite, Liberty York Rite bodies, and Moila Shrine. He is also a member and Past Dean of the DeMolay Legion of Honor. Brother Harrison is a regular contributor to the Midnight Freemasonsblog as well as several other Masonic publications. Brother Steve was Editor of the Missouri Freemason magazine for a decade and is a regular contributor to the Whence Came You podcast. Born in Indiana, he has a Master's Degree from Indiana University and is retired from a 35 year career in information technology. Steve and his wife Carolyn reside in northwest Missouri. He is the author of dozens of magazine articles and three books: Freemasonry Crosses the Mississippi, Freemasons — Tales From the Craft and Freemasons at Oak Island.

How Ben Franklin Gave St. John's Lodge A Little Push

by Midnight Freemasons Contributor

Todd E. Creason

Almost everyone knows that Benjamin Franklin was a Freemason, but not so many know the interesting way Benjamin Franklin came to join the Freemasons. 

Benjamin Franklin very much wanted to join St. John's Lodge, but at that time, you had to be invited to join the Freemasons.  He had a difficult time getting invited to join, and he hadn't been subtle in dropping hints that he'd like to join.  He valued many of the same values the Freemasons respected.  Much like Franklin, the Freemasons were dedicated to civic works and fellowship.  They held a nonsectarian policy about religious toleration which mirrored his own beliefs.  And without question, Franklin also saw membership as a step on the social ladder. 

In hopes of currying favor with the Freemasons, he began to publish small, favorable pieces about the Freemasons in his newspaper.  But that didn't work, so he tried a slightly different tactic.  In December of 1730, he published a long article in his paper claiming to have uncovered some of the secrets of the Freemasons.  He claimed one of these secrets was that many of the so-called “secrets” were actually hoaxes.  And he claimed he would begin publishing those "secrets" in a series. 

That got their attention!

Within a couple of weeks, Benjamin Franklin was initiated into the St. John’s Lodge.  Shortly after his initiation, his newspaper printed a retraction of the article and put in its place a glowing piece about the positive influences of Freemasonry.

Brother Benjamin Franklin became a Master Mason at St. John’s Lodge in Philadelphia in 1731. 

~TEC

originally published 12/16/13

Todd E. Creason, 33° is the founder of the Midnight Freemasons blog and continues to be a regular contributor. He is the author of several books and novels, including the Famous American Freemasons series. He is member of Homer Lodge No. 199, and a Past Master of Ogden Lodge No. 754 (IL). He is a member the Scottish Rite Valley of Danville, the York Rite Bodies of Champaign/Urbana (IL), the Ansar Shrine (IL), Eastern Illinois Council No. 356 Allied Masonic Degrees, and Charter President of the Illini High Twelve in Champaign-Urbana (IL). You can contact him at: webmaster@toddcreason.org

The Pitfalls Of Being Worshipful Master

by Midnight Freemasons Founder

Todd E. Creason, 33°

I recently ran across some photos of being installed Worshipful Master of Ogden Lodge back in 2010.  I recall that day clearly.  I remember going home after being installed, all wound up about all the things I was going to accomplish during my year in the East.  I told my wife, Valerie, that it wasn't necessary for her to call me Worshipful at home--she could just call me MASTER.  

I was only joking, but it made her so angry, I didn't see her for two solid weeks!  Well, actually after a week, I could see her a little bit out of my left eye.

~TEC

Todd E. Creason, 33° is the Founder of the Midnight Freemasons blog.  You can contact him with complaints about this piece at: webmaster@toddcreason.org

An Old Friend Returns

by Midnight Freemason Managing Editor

Robert H. Johnson

When I became a Freemason back in 2007 (became an EA), I was a hard working guy who worked with my hands, winter or summer, cold or hot. I was outside 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. This is no big deal to many of you reading this, as I'm sure many of you are the same. When I finally became a Master Mason, I was still in that job and I wanted ring, but one that would withstand ANYTHING.

Enter the world of stainless steel rings. The market is flush with them now, but back then, there was really one dude who was the genesis of the trend, Bro. Gordon Spurlock. My lodge had a custom ring with him, and it was only $100. I know, now days, you can get a ring for about $25 if you really want to.

But this one was made by a bro, cut from steel, hollowed, ground, and the individual iconography placed and glued by hand. I liked that touch. I bought it and wore it every day. It had been "gold fired" as well, but that wore off after a year. That thing got beat to hell on the regular. Being steel, it even saved my finger from a few incidents.

About three years ago I started a new gig and started working in the office. I became a little more Masonic, I gained weight. All kidding aside, that ring became too tight to wear. Being steel, I can't resize it either. Insert long story about inspirational healthy living here. I was walking around the house last week and my current ring was noticeably loose. I thought, "Huh, I wonder if my old ring would fit again."

Turns out, it did. I smiled, and kept it on. It's nice to have it back.

Oh, I almost forgot, "Points Out" ;)

~RHJ

RWB, Robert Johnson is the Managing Editor of the Midnight Freemasons blog. He is a Freemason out of the 1st N.E. District of Illinois. He currently serves as the Secretary of Waukegan Lodge No. 78 where he is a Past Master. He also serves as the District Deputy for the 1st N.E. District of Illinois. Brother Johnson currently produces and hosts weekly Podcasts (internet radio programs) Whence Came You? & Masonic Radio Theatre which focus on topics relating to Freemasonry. He is also a co-host of The Masonic Roundtable, a Masonic talk show. He is a husband and father of four, works full time in the executive medical industry and is also an avid home brewer. He is currently working on a book of Masonic essays and one on Occult Anatomy to be released soon.

The Cowan

by Midnight Freemason Contributor

Bro. Steven L. Harrison, 33°, FMLR 

A few years ago at Missouri’s Grand Lodge session, the Grand Secretary asked me, with approval from the Grand Master, to take some photographs of the tiled Grand Lodge meeting.

We held the meeting in a large conference center jam-packed with over 1,000 Brothers. As I walked around the room trying to figure out the best angles for the photographs it became apparent I wouldn’t get a good photo from the convention floor. Fortunately, there was an office area above with a bank of draped windows overlooking the cavernous meeting room. That, I figured, would give me the best vantage point for the shot the Grand Secretary wanted.

I hauled my equipment upstairs and entered the office. There, I peeked out of each window to determine the best angle for my impending work of art. I selected the appropriate window, opened the drapes just enough to stick my head and camera through, knelt and started snapping pictures.

When I lowered my camera I noticed a flurry of activity on my end of the room. Right below me, Brothers were waving their arms and pointing at me. Some were even heading toward the door. Momentarily, the meeting stopped. The Brothers had exposed a cowan in their midst… and it was me!

Being a man of decisive action, I decided it was time to make a quick exit. “Feet,” I thought, “don’t fail me now.” I grabbed my stuff, whirled around and prepared to make myself scarce.

Too late.

As I stood up, the office door flew open. There, holding his angled rod in front of his body with both hands, legs planted apart, silent and ready for battle, stood the Grand Pursuivant.

Do I need to mention it was an uncomfortable moment?

I didn’t know the man but it was pretty obvious he was a Brother. As a few others began to show up behind him, I introduced myself and told him what I was up to. It didn’t take too long to convince him I was legitimate and the crisis quickly ended. A few smiles even broke out.

I suppose there are some things to be learned from the incident… like, for example we probably should have announced that the photos were being taken. Mainly, however, I learned some Brothers apparently have eyes in the back of their heads, since they were all facing away from me when I took the pictures.

Although I edited the Missouri Freemason magazine at the time I never published the photo. The only use ever made of it was a copy that now hangs in the Masonic Museum at the Masonic Complex in Columbia.

That Grand Pursuivant, Richard Smith, was elected Grand Master of the Grand Lodge of Missouri in September, 2016. We’ve gotten to know each other pretty well and every once in a while we share a smile recalling the way we met.

~SLH

Bro. Steve Harrison, 33° is Past Master of Liberty Lodge #31, Liberty, Missouri. He is the editor of the Missouri Freemason magazine, author of the book Freemasonry Crosses the Mississippi, a Fellow of the Missouri Lodge of Research and also its Worshipful Master. He is a dual member of Kearney Lodge #311, St. Joseph Missouri Valley of the Scottish Rite, Liberty York Rite, Moila Shrine and a member and Past Dean of the DeMolay Legion of Honor. Brother Harrison is a regular contributor to the Midnight Freemasons blog as well as several other Masonic publications. His latest book, Freemasons: Tales From the Craft & Freemasons at Oak Island. Both are available on amazon.com.

Don't Shoot, We're Republicans! - Revisiting a Classic

by Midnight Freemason Contributor

Steve L. Harrison, 33˚, FMLR

Editors Note: This piece originally published quite some time ago by Bro. Harrison always struck me as absolutely unbelievable. It's worth reposting and your attention as it will assuredly make you chuckle and put you in a state of disbelief. ~RHJ

Brother Franklin D. Roosevelt, Holland Lodge 8 of New York City, crossed the Atlantic in November 1943, to attend a World War II summit. While the President was en route traveling on the USS Iowa battleship, the navy arranged a demonstration of firepower for its commander-in-chief. At the start of the trip the battleship William D. Porter joined the Iowa to show off its capabilities for FDR. While weighing anchor the Porter ripped the lifeboat mountings off of a sister destroyer, rendering the damaged ship un-seaworthy. The following day, a depth charge fell from the Porter and exploded, requiring all area ships, including the Iowa, to take evasive maneuvers. Two days later, during the demonstration, crew members inadvertently fired a live torpedo at the President's ship. Learning this, Brother Roosevelt asked to be taken deck-side so he could watch! Again forced to take evasive action, the Iowa barely avoided the live "fish."

After the incident with the torpedo, the Porter was quarantined and the entire crew arrested. Later, the ship's captain, Lieutenant Commander Wilfred A. Walter, and several of his officers were sentenced to shore duty. Lawton Dawson, who was responsible for releasing a live torpedo, was sentenced to 14 years at hard labor. Fortunately for Dawson, a compassionate Roosevelt gave him a presidential pardon.

The "Willie Dee," as it came to be known, and the remainder of its crew were "exiled" to Alaska, where most assumed it couldn't get into trouble. This held true until a drunken crew member accidentally fired a live round of ammunition into the base commander's house while amusing himself on one of The Porter’s big guns. The unfortunate incident was compounded by the fact that the commander was hosting a party and several surprised dignitaries were at his home when the shell hit.

By this time, the ship's reputation was so bad, whenever it pulled into port sailors from other ships would greet it by begging, "Don't shoot, we're Republicans!" The catcall implied the Porter’s crew shot at FDR because he was a Democrat.

The war in the Pacific required every piece of firepower the US could muster. Reluctantly, the Navy called the Porter into service at Okinawa where, not unexpectedly, it shelled another American battleship. After that incident, the Navy moved the Willie Dee farther out to sea where it could do no harm, but where it was also a sitting duck. A Kamikaze pilot spotted the isolated ship and set it as his target. Fortunately, the pilot missed the Porter badly and dove into the sea. Unfortunately, his plane exploded and the concussion capsized the battleship. In the end and true to form, a hapless Kamikaze pilot had sunk the hapless Willie Dee. Miraculously, however, every single crew member survived the incident when another Navy ship came to the rescue.

Somewhat ironically, the battleship was named for US Navy Commodore William D. Porter, who had a distinguished career. He commanded the Essex during the Civil War and was instrumental in several Union victories. Brother Porter was a member of St. John Lodge 11, Washington, DC.

Although the saga of the Willie Dee has its humorous side, historians agree Brother Roosevelt was in legitimate danger when the torpedo nearly struck the Iowa. Had the episode ended tragically, the war and history may have taken a different turn with Brother Henry Wallace in command.

~SH

Bro. Steve Harrison, 33° is Past Master of Liberty Lodge #31, Liberty, Missouri. He is the editor of the Missouri Freemason magazine, author of the book Freemasonry Crosses the Mississippi, a Fellow of the Missouri Lodge of Research and also its Worshipful Master. He is a dual member of Kearney Lodge #311, St. Joseph Missouri Valley of the Scottish Rite, Liberty York Rite, Moila Shrine and a member and Past Dean of the DeMolay Legion of Honor. Brother Harrison is a regular contributor to the Midnight Freemasons blog as well as several other Masonic publications. His latest book, Freemasons: Tales From the Craft & Freemasons at Oak Island. Both are available on amazon.com.

The Original Roast

by Midnight Freemason Contributor

Steven L. Harrison, 33°, FMLR

"It's no coincidence George Hamilton loves the sun. They were born in the same year. The difference is the sun is actually a star." ~Lisa Lampanelli

"What's with all the surgery, Kathy (Griffin)? You've been stitched up thousands of times but you're still sad to look at. You're like the AIDS quilt." ~Greg Giraldo

"Justin’s fans are called Beliebers because it’s politically incorrect to use the word retards." ~Natasha Legerro

"My good friend Snoop Dogg said Jeff Ross' book was unreadable, but that's because Snoop can't read." ~Larry King

“Bill (Shatner), you were supposed to explore the galaxy, not fill it”- Betty White

Don't you just love a good roast? You know they're those events where people get up and destroy their friends in what is allegedly good-natured fun.

Modern comedy roasts date back to the Friar's Club events of the late 1940s and have progressed (if you can call it progress) to today's televised productions that seemingly make a science of mean-spirited nastiness.

What may be the original comedy roast, however, dates well before the Friars thought of presenting organized evenings of vitriol. That honor goes to a gala event the Atlantic Monthly held in Boston the evening of December 17, 1877, celebrating poet John Greenleaf Whittier's 70th birthday.

People today revere Brother Mark Twain as an American treasure. During his lifetime he was in demand as a speaker and it seemed no one was more well-suited to deliver the keynote address on that auspicious occasion.

Ever the mischievous humorist, Twain decided to go over-the-top and take a few friendly jabs at some of the impressive guests in attendance, specifically Henry Wadsdworth Longfellow, Ralph Waldo Emerson and Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

He launched into a story about stumbling upon a miner's shack. The miner told him, "You're the fourth... literary man that has been here in twenty-four hours — I'm going to move. [The others were] Mr. Longfellow, Mr. Emerson, and Mr. Oliver Wendell Holmes — confound the lot!"

"Mr. Emerson was a seedy little bit of a chap, red-headed. Mr. Holmes was as fat as a balloon; he weighed as much as three hundred, and had double chins all the way down to his stomach. Mr. Longfellow was built like a prize-fighter. His head was cropped and bristly, like as if he had a wig made of hair-brushes. His nose lay straight down his face, like a finger with the end joint tilted up. They had been drinking, I could see that. And what queer talk they used…"

…And on and on it went. Expecting laughter by this point, Twain found himself speaking to a hushed crowd.*

Writing about the event later, Twain said he knew things weren't right, "Now, then, the house's attention continued, but the expression of interest in the faces turned to a sort of black frost. I wondered what the trouble was. I didn't know. I went on, but with difficulty… In the end, I didn't know enough just to give up and sit down.”

Following the speech, newspapers across the country erupted with stories of Twain's rude remarks and bad taste. His book sales dropped off as did, understandably, invitations to speak.

Today we think of Brother Samuel Clemens in his Mark Twain persona as having had the "Midas Touch" when it came to writing, a sense of humor and popularity. It was not so. At the time of the speech, Twain was in some degree of financial distress, and counted on speaking fees and book sales to carry him through. After what author William Dean Howells called "the amazing mistake, the bewildering blunder, the cruel catastrophe" Twain had trouble making ends meet. With no prospect of financial success in the US, he was forced to undertake a grueling European speaking tour.

Twain never completely recovered — financially or emotionally — from his faux pas. Near the end of his life, he wrote about it in an apologetic letter to a friend, "It seems as if I must have been insane when I wrote that speech and saw no harm in it, no disrespect toward those men whom I reverenced so much."

Maybe Brother Twain was just ahead of his time; or maybe we today have become a little too desensitized to what was one time regarded as rude.

____________________________

*Although at the end of the speech Twain called the men in the story representing Emerson, Holmes and Longfellow "imposters," it was a question of too-little-too-late. The full text of the speech is available at http://bit.ly/2ibRsU7

~SLH

Bro. Steve Harrison, 33° is Past Master of Liberty Lodge #31, Liberty, Missouri. He is the editor of the Missouri Freemason magazine, author of the book Freemasonry Crosses the Mississippi, a Fellow of the Missouri Lodge of Research and also its Worshipful Master. He is a dual member of Kearney Lodge #311, St. Joseph Missouri Valley of the Scottish Rite, Liberty York Rite, Moila Shrine and a member and Past Dean of the DeMolay Legion of Honor. Brother Harrison is a regular contributor to the Midnight Freemasons blog as well as several other Masonic publications. His latest book, Freemasons: Tales From the Craft & Freemasons at Oak Island. Both are available on amazon.com.

Todd's Mail Bag: The Masonic Conspiracy Theorists

by Midnight Freemasons Founder

Todd E. Creason

I posted this a couple years ago on From Labor To Refreshment.  This is why we moderate our comments at the Midnight Freemasons.  Lets just say there's a lot of interesting people in this world with a lot of interesting ideas--especially about Freemasonry.  We get interesting comments and emails almost daily.  I thought you might enjoy this one.  I decided to have a little fun with this one. 

I thought I'd share a random email. I just never know what I'm going to get from day to day.  Every once in awhile, I get one like this--from that group known to all as the "Masonic conspiracy theorists."  A friend of mine calls them "secret squirrels."

Dear Mr. Creason (if that is your real name),

I thought I would let you know that as a 33rd Degree Mason, and one of your Godless organization's most prolific and skilled disseminators of disinformation about Freemasonry, your act is transparent. Most people know that Freemasonry is really the public front of the Illuminati, which is an evil organization dedicated to the destruction of our society for the profit and power of an elite few. Like you. 

E.M.

I was truly shocked--I didn't know what to say. Finally I answered.

Dear E. M.

I can't believe what you just said to me. I'm a 33rd Degree Mason? I had no idea! All these years, I've been wearing this ring upside-down! I turned it over, and you're absolutely right--it does say "33".  All this time I thought I was an "EE." Thanks for clearing that up for me.

Sincerely,

Todd E. Creason

Oddly enough, I haven't heard anything back . . .

~TEC

Todd E. Creason, 33°, FMLR is the Founder of the Midnight Freemasons blog and is a regular contributor.  He is the award winning author of several books and novels, including the Famous American Freemasons series. He is the author of the From Labor to Refreshment blog.  He is the Worshipful Master of Homer Lodge No. 199 and a Past Master of Ogden Lodge No. 754, where is currently serves as Secretary.  He is the Sovereign Master of the Eastern Illinois Council No. 356 Allied Masonic Degrees.  He is a Fellow at the Missouri Lodge of Research. (FMLR) and a charter member of a new Illinois Royal Arch Chapter, Admiration Chapter U.D.  You can contact him at: webmaster@toddcreason.org

In My Day We Did It This Way...

by Midnight Freemason Contributor

Steven L. Harrison, 33°, FMLR

In a recent Midnight Freemasons article I mentioned the fact that the reading of the minutes may be one of the less exciting parts of a Masonic meeting. Personally, I live for it... to be over with.

One of the bodies I belong to, in my opinion, does it right. At that meeting we always have a dinner beforehand and the Secretary sets out copies of the minutes and any other pertinent material such as financial statements on each table. During the time before the meeting each member has a chance to read through the handouts. Then, during the meeting, without a reading, we vote on approval.

It doesn't always go this way. In my own Blue Lodge — God bless 'em — we still have the ever-present dronin... uh, I mean reading of the minutes at each meeting. To add to the frenzy of excitement this creates we also read every single word of every petition. I remember one night in particular when we had multiple petitions. By the end of the evening I almost had the entire document commited to memory, and would have... had I not fallen asleep.

When I became Senior Warden I sat in the West close enough to the Junior Deacon that we could converse during the meeting. Together we felt we could solve the problems of the world, so solving the problems of the Lodge was a piece of cake.

Every single meeting when the reading of the minutes came up Allen (not his real name, of course) would turn around to me and say, "When I get up there in the East, we're not going to do this." He encouraged me to do it before he got there but I told him I just wanted to get through my year unscathed and would leave it up to him to make the radical change.

Years passed. I went through the East — only scathed a little bit but I survived. Then I moved to that most coveted of all Masonic positions, Past Master, and waited for Allen to take the helm; and take it he did — full of the vigor of his still youthful age and the expectation of the exciting year he had planned.

I was nearly giddy as I went to his first meeting knowing he was about to shake the Masonic world. I sat in great anticipation as Allen opened the meeting. Then, in an instant, my hopes for a better world came crashing down as he turned and said, "Brother Secretary, you will read the minutes..."

I nearly had an out-of-body experience as we droned through the meeting and Allen embraced the usual pomp and circumstance — more pomp than circumstance — of all the meetings and Masters that had come before him.

After the meeting I rushed up to him and asked why he had fallen into the routine he seemed to abhor back in his Junior Deacon days.

His answer sounded a little familiar, "I just want to get through my year unscathed."

Change is difficult, my Brothers, and the penalty for attempting it may be a good sound scathing, which many times starts with the words, "In my day, we did it this way..."

~SLH

Bro. Steve Harrison, 33°, is Past Master of Liberty Lodge #31, Liberty, Missouri. He is the editor of the Missouri Freemason magazine, author of the book Freemasonry Crosses the Mississippi, a Fellow of the Missouri Lodge of Research and also its Worshipful Master. He is a dual member of Kearney Lodge #311, St. Joseph Missouri Valley of the Scottish Rite, Liberty York Rite, Moila Shrine and a member and Past Dean of the DeMolay Legion of Honor. Brother Harrison is a regular contributor to the Midnight Freemasons blog as well as several other Masonic publications. His latest book, Freemasons: Tales From the Craft & Freemasons at Oak Island. Both are available on amazon.com.

Don't Forget... We Need Petitions

by Midnight Freemason Contributor

Steven L. Harrison, 33°, FMLR

Last week at the close of one of the Masonic bodies where I am a member a Brother stood up and gave us that ubiquitous reminder, "Don't forget... we need petitions."

I could make this a long article by listing the reasons I joined the fraternity. Among those would not be, "I joined so I could go out and get petitions."

Like everyone, I'm happy to see new members join any part of our Masonic family. To me, a new member means a new friend, a new opportunity to share all the aspects of Freemasonry, new support for our programs and services.

Unfortunately, when I hear, "Go out and get more petitions," it translates in my mind to "Get more dues, more donations, more money and more dishwashers for the kitchen crew — if they breathe, drag 'em in and sign 'em up."

A couple of days after that meeting I sat down to read one of my Dad's old Masonic magazines. It was from back in the "heyday" of Masonry. Back then, the fraternity was thriving. They had over twice the membership we have today; and according to the magazine, do you know what they needed?

More petitions.

Have I mentioned that's not why I joined the fraternity?

Seriously, it's not what I want to do as a part of Masonry. Even though it's legal to "ask" in my jurisdiction, I'm still more of a "2B1ASK1" kinda-guy.

I'm also not excited about advertising the fraternity or its related bodies. To me, the best way to get members is to demonstrate the worth of the Craft by our actions. We have to be active and visible in the community and attract existing members to other bodies by showing them that the meetings are interesting, exciting, educational and more than a droning of the minutes and routine business transactions.

It seems this is a popular point of view within the membership. I know because many times we discuss it ….while the Secretary drones on reading the minutes.

~SLH

Bro. Steve Harrison, 33°, is Past Master of Liberty Lodge #31, Liberty, Missouri. He is the editor of the Missouri Freemason magazine, author of the book Freemasonry Crosses the Mississippi, a Fellow of the Missouri Lodge of Research and also its Worshipful Master. He is a dual member of Kearney Lodge #311, St. Joseph Missouri Valley of the Scottish Rite, Liberty York Rite, Moila Shrine and a member and Past Dean of the DeMolay Legion of Honor. Brother Harrison is a regular contributor to the Midnight Freemasons blog as well as several other Masonic publications. His latest book, Freemasons: Tales From the Craft & Freemasons at Oak Island. Both are available on amazon.com.

When We Remember

by Midnight Freemason Contributor

Robert H. Johnson

We've all had those moments, those laughable incidents in lodge. More often than not, the moments are horrific when they happen and like most recollections of that nature, turn into amazing anecdotes we tend to tell around the dining room tables while eating hot dogs, frozen pizzas or cold sandwiches.

I was recently talking to a brother over the phone who was looking to pay his dues. He informed me he had gotten behind because he traveled frequently and usually pays up to three years in advance, something we secretaries are just fine with. This time however, he was behind because he had just had heart bypass surgery. I'll call this brother, "Jack".

He told me everything was great, and that his recovery was coming along well. Obviously, I was thrilled to hear this. But that's when this brother told me a story about his mentor, his mentor who he almost imitated.

It was 2010, a third degree. This brother was about to receive the culmination of craft masonry. It was an exciting night. I remember it, as I was Jr. Deacon at the time. Well, this fella didn't know that his dad came into town to be the Chaplain. I can tell you he got a smile on his face as big as I had ever seen, when he heard the Chaplain start to do his thing in the start of the degree. "I remember smiling and thinking...that's my dad!", Jack told me.

After the first section was over, we were all in the dining room having a good laugh and grabbing a drink before the night continued. We were about half way through the 2nd section, when our candidate Jack heard something most candidates never hear...One of our members who had a part in the degree collapsed right next to him.

Needless to say, the candidate thought it was all part of the degree experience. But as we all know, it wasn't. It turned out the brother who collapsed had a heart issue and he fell right there in the middle of a degree. I know you're all reading this thinking, "what happened?" And I am happy to report the brother got up and sat on the sidelines the rest of the night.  Jack had no idea what had happened and the rest of his degree went off smoothly.

A few weeks later Jack had to get back on the road, as was his profession. He had a stay with us for about 3 months, in which time he progressed through the degrees. His mentor was the man that fell. Sadly, we lost that mentor in 2011. Jack didn't know and, in fact, he found out from me while on that phone call. He said he remembers fondly those three spring months in early 2010, and tells the story in his travels about the time his mentor took a spill and how he thought it was all part of the gig.

He reminisced a bit more on the phone reflecting on the bypass surgery he had just come out of and now, finding comedy in it. For a moment he gave pause, then said to tell the brothers he thinks about us all the time and even though the things that happen to us in the moment can be serious, we survive, we push on and all deal with them in our own ways, most of us look back and have a laugh, a chuckle and, remember.

~RHJ

Bro. Robert Johnson, PM is the Managing Editor of the Midnight Freemasons blog. He is a Freemason out of the First North-East District of Illinois. He is the Secretary of Waukegan Lodge No. 78 and Education officer for the 1st N.E. District of Illinois as well as a past member on the Grand Lodge Education Committee. He is also a member of the York Rite bodies, AMD, The Illinois Lodge of Research and a member of the Scottish Rite Valley of Chicago as well as a charter member of the Society of King Solomon, a charity organization run by the Grand Lodge of Illinois. Brother Johnson currently produces and hosts weekly Podcasts (internet radio programs) Whence Came You? & Masonic Radio Theatrewhich focus on topics relating to Freemasonry. In addition, he produces video shorts focusing on driving interest in the Fraternity and writes original Masonic papers from time to time. He is also a co-host of The Masonic Roundtable, a Masonic talk show. He is a husband and father of four. He works full time in the executive medical industry and is also a photographer on the side as well as an avid home brewer. He is currently working on a book of Masonic essays.

Other Bare Facts

The Lighter Side of Freemasons

 by Midnight Freemason Contributor

Steven L. Harrison, 33°, FMLR

Some outside the Fraternity see Freemasons as being stiff, formal, archaic and arcane.  One of the great Masonic secrets is that isn't true.  Oh, we have our moments of formality, but here are a few examples of what might be called the lighter side of Freemasons' lives:

Richard Locke's Moon People

Richard Locke was so irritated by outlandish claims of discovering life on the moon, he fabricated the discovery of an entire race of moon beings, which took the science community and public by storm in 1835.

Chic Sale published a book, The Specialist, in the early twentieth century, which was nearly banned.  The carefully worded book was a humorous but risqué treatise on the subject of outhouses.

Astronaut Gus Grissom also ran into a bit of censorship.  After his first space capsule sank at the end of a mission, Grissom named his second craft the Molly Brown because the original Molly was "unsinkable." When the NASA board balked, Grissom submitted a new name, Titanic.  After due consideration, the board approved Molly Brown.

Will Rogers was not so lucky in escaping the censor's ax.  After visiting the Soviet Union he published a book entitled, There's Not A Bathing Suit In Russia.  The censors were not at all amused by the second part of the title when they cut it from naughty Will's book: And Other Bare Facts.

Rogers worked with "Blue Boy," a champion hog, in his 1933 movie, "State Fair." At the end of filming director Henry King gave Blue Boy to Rogers to slaughter and eat.  Rogers instead donated the hog to an agricultural college saying, "I refuse to eat a co-star."

As if that's not enough on Will, he is also known to have dated all seven of the Blake sisters before settling down and marrying the youngest, Betty.  Family gatherings must have been interesting...

In the 1948 presidential race, Thomas Dewey's campaign came up with the world's first political   It read, "Dew It With Dewey."  The electorate, instead, decided to "Dew It" with Truman.

T-Shirt.

Clifton Truman Daniel didn’t learn his grandfather Harry Truman had been the US President until his first day of school, when the other kids confronted him with the news.  Clifton rushed home at the end of the day and asked his mother Margaret, "Did you know Grandpa was the President of the United States?" With all the timing of a great comedian, Clifton will then tell you, "She knew."

Clifton's life as Harry's grandson wasn't all a bed of roses.  On one occasion, playing with a popgun inside the Truman house in Independence, he fired a shot and knocked a vase over.  Grandpa sent Clifton and his brother outside to play.  Within minutes Clifton rounded the corner of the house and came face-to-face with a scowling Secret Service agent who, from a house across the street, had seen two shadowy figures with guns sneaking around the former President's property.

England's Prince Phillip has a famously caustic and non-politically-correct sense of humor.  On one occasion when told he would be attending a Madonna concert he said he would have to bring some ear plugs.  He is also known for the quote, "If you see a man opening a car door for a woman, it means one of two things: it's either a new car or a new woman."

In the mid 1960s the Grand Lodge of California brought a member up on Masonic charges for participating in a college panty raid.  The judges allowed that such behavior could be dismissed as collegiate hi-jinx, but felt the situation warranted further investigation when the member in question was found to have 181 pairs of the delicate undergarments.

After losing the world championship in a brutal fight to Gene Tunney in 1926, a battered Jack Dempsey told his wife, "Honey, I forgot to duck." As medics wheeled Ronald Reagan (an honorary Scottish Rite Mason) into the operating room after a 1981 assassination attempt, he looked at his wife Nancy and used Dempsey's quote.

Ford VS Chicken

Finally, there is the case of the giant chicken that hounded Gerald Ford in his 1976 presidential   Instead of becoming irritated, Ford played along with the prank even to the point of inviting the chicken on stage for an interview.  Today, that same "chicken" who made his national debut campaigning with Gerald Ford has gone on to fame in his own right.  He is now known as The San Diego Chicken.

campaign.

These stories aren't all that unusual.  Part of the reason we are members of this Fraternity is the fellowship we enjoy when we get together.  If you're looking for more Masonic stories that bring a little chuckle, just attend your next Lodge meeting.  You're sure to find them there.

~SLH

Bro. Steve Harrison, 33°, is Past Master of Liberty Lodge #31, Liberty, Missouri. He is the editor of the Missouri Freemason magazine, author of the book Freemasonry Crosses the Mississippi, a Fellow of the Missouri Lodge of Research and also its Worshipful Master. He is a dual member of Kearney Lodge #311, St. Joseph Missouri Valley of the Scottish Rite, Liberty York Rite, Moila Shrine and a member and Past Dean of the DeMolay Legion of Honor. Brother Harrison is a regular contributor to the Midnight Freemasons blog as well as several other Masonic publications. His latest book, Freemasons: Tales From the Craft, is available on amazon.com.