Jackson and Truman - A Unique Thing

Jackson County, Missouri is named for Andrew Jackson, who served as the seventh President of the United States, from 1829–37. The Jackson County Courthouse sits on the town square in Independence, Missouri, the famous home of Harry Truman, the thirty-third President, serving from 1945–53. When Truman was a county judge from 1922–24 and again from 1926–34, he had an office in the iconic building.

Statues of the two men flank the courthouse. On the west side, Jackson's statue shows him astride his horse in full military regalia as he might have appeared as a major-general in the Battle of New Orleans.

On the east side of the courthouse, Truman's statue depicts him, cane in hand, taking his morning constitutional, as was his custom in Independence in the days after his presidency.

In addition to being president, Andrew Jackson was Grand Master of the Grand Lodge of Tennessee from 1822–24; and President Truman was Grand Master of the Grand Lodge of Missouri from 1940–41.

Andrew Jackson and Harry Truman are the only two men who have served both as President of the United States and Grand Master of their respective Masonic Grand Lodges. The grounds of the Jackson county courthouse are the only existing memorial to both those men together. It wasn't planned that way, and I'm sure the tourists and maybe most Brothers who see the statues are unaware of the fact that together, their placement inadvertently makes the courthouse grounds a memorial to a very unique thing: the only two men who share the titles of both President of the US and Grand Master.

The Silencing

In the 1962 Indiana Senatorial campaign, young Democratic upstart Birch Bayh went up against the venerable Republican incumbent Homer E. Capehart, in a relatively conservative state where young Bayh's chances were not seen as very good. The two candidates, Masonic Brothers, went after each other in a brutal campaign that was too close to predict right down to the bitter end.

Toward the end of the race, Bayh's campaign staff came up with new words to a little ditty from a 1960 Broadway show starring Lucille Ball, Wildcat. The song was Hey, Look Me Over.

It's a song so catchy, you can almost hear the tune as you read the lyrics:

Hey look me over, lend me an ear,

Fresh out of clover, mortgaged up to here...

Bayh's staff modified the lyrics to tout his campaign and for the last few weeks of the race, inundated Hoosier voters with it. Or, as Time Magazine put it, "In the last two weeks of the campaign, Hoosiers heard little else on radio and television stations." After Bayh's song blitz, he had practically every Hoosier, Republican and Democrat humming the tune or singing:

Hey, look him over, he's your kind of guy,

His first name is Birch, his last name is Bayh,

Candidate for Senator for the Hoosier state,

For Indiana he'll do more than anyone has done before,

Indiana's own Birch Bayh...

And so on. According to one Hoosier who was there to hear it, "You simply could not get the song out of your head, and could not turn on a radio or TV without hearing it."

There were a lot of factors that led to Birch Bayh winning by the slimmest of margins in 1962... Bayh's charisma, President Kennedy's support, Capehart coming across like a fuddy duddy and more, but analysts give that song most of the credit. Bayh himself is convinced it put him over the top. Time Magazine reported, "After the Indiana populace heard [the song] for the 22,356th time in the autumn of 1962, Birch Bayh went to Washington."

Brother Birch Bayh went on to a stellar career in the US Senate and was briefly, in 1976, considered a front-runner for the Democratic Presidential nomination.

When the 1968 Senatorial campaign rolled around, Bayh ran for re-election and Hoosiers braced their ears to hear that successful campaign song over and over. But Bayh's campaign jingle, which had proven so successful, was never heard again.

Why? With the song still in copyright the Republicans, badly burned by it six years earlier, bought the rights to the tune and quietly put it on the shelf. Despite having his theme song silenced Brother Bayh won the election and eventually served 18 years in the US Senate.

Adah

"Faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love." The messages and teachings of the Bible are wonderful and bring peace to our hearts when we read some like that one from First Corinthians; but the Bible offers a broad spectrum of life's lessons, some of which are unpleasant and even excruciating to read.

We find such a lesson in the book of Judges' account of Jephthah. It's a narrative the Eastern Star has taken as part of its teachings in its effort to honor the women of the Bible. While the Biblical account does not name Jephthah's daughter, the Eastern Star calls her Adah.

We read in the Biblical account Jephthah the Gileadite is the son of a harlot. As such, his Brothers and half-brothers want nothing to do with him and throw him out. Jephthah, known as a fierce fighter, lives in exile until the Ammonites attack Gilead. The town elders approach Jephthah, asking him to lead the fight. He agrees — only if afterward they will make him their leader.

Agreement reached, Jephthah makes a vow to God,

"If I may win the fight,” he says, “I will sacrifice whatever first comes out of my house upon my return." He, of course expected this to be one of the animals on his property.

Jephthah leads the Gileadites to victory; and upon his return a woman walks out of his house to greet him. To his horror, it is his own daughter; she is the first to come out of his house and, by his vow to God, he must sacrifice her. Jephthah rends his garments. Jephthah tells her what he has done.

His daughter says he has given his word to the Lord, and must do as he promised, since the Lord has helped him avenge his enemies the Ammonites. Resigned to this, his daughter asks him to let her go into the hills for two months and weep with her friends, since she will never be able to marry. Jephthah grants her request.

Judges chapter 11 verses 39 and 40 tell us, "After the two months, she returned to her father, and he did to her as he had vowed. She never married, and remained a virgin. From this comes the Israelite tradition that each year the young women of Israel go out for four days to commemorate the daughter of Jephthah the Gileadite."

Certain commentaries, most notably that of 18th century minister and writer Matthew Henry, suggest Jephthah's daughter may merely have been banished or never allowed to marry, rather than suffer death at the hands of her father. That is certainly not what the Bible implies and such speculation may, in fact, mitigate the impact of the lesson, one of the most powerful and profound accounts in the Bible… as well as the Masonic fraternity.

Reminiscent of Abraham and Issac, which had a much more palatable ending, what possible lesson can come out of this horrifying account?

On reflection, there are several. First and foremost, a vow to God is sacred and must not be taken lightly or without serious thought.

One can also argue the story teaches lessons of fidelity and loyalty to God, the innocence of a young girl and perhaps most of all, courage: courage on the part of Jephthah to follow through with his vow and his daughter's courage in accepting it.

In MY Day, We Did It This Way...

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..."

Freemason-ing Alone

In 2000, Harvard professor and political scientist Robert D. Putnam published a book entitled "Bowling Alone." For a time, the book was all the rage in membership-based organizations as it attempted to explain, via an abundance of numbers, charts and graphs, the reasons for and effects of the decline of social interaction in our society. The book became less the rage when readers found it offered more on the whys and wherefores and less on how to reverse the trend. This trend, I might add, has continued its downward spiral since the book came out.

Putnam used the following bowling analogy to illustrate his premise: while the number of people who are participating in the sport of bowling has increased (Really? Meh, if he says so), participation in organized bowling leagues has declined. We are, therefore, "bowling alone."

So, let's channel this over to Freemasonry: while interest in Freemasonry has increased (Really? Meh, if I say so*), participation in organized Freemasonry has declined.

*Come on. You have to give me this one. It is, after all the age of the "Belluminati." http://bit.ly/2B40Thu

I got to thinking about this while reading Robert Johnson's article, "What If We Actually Did Masonry?" (http://bit.ly/2rcttOi). In it, RWB Robert wondered what would happen if, instead of running business-saturated Lodge meetings like we do now, we used the bulk of each meeting for Masonic education. The more I read, the more I kept thinking, "attendance would go down even more."

Fortunately, Robert backed me up on that: "What would happen if we ALL changed the order of business, so that Masonic Education came right after the opening? What would happen if we spent twenty, thirty, dare I say an hour on a topical presentation complete with questions and answers with discussion from the brothers? ...The chances are we would lose a lot of members by doing this."

Part of the issue is our society has become so "over-the-top." Back in the day I could go to a rock concert and watch the band simply set up and rock on. Today, for the attention-span-challenged, that same band on tour has to have flash, pyrotechnics and videos behind it while it plays. We expect so much more. If we held Woodstock today, we'd have to set the stage on fire and launch the space shuttle behind Country Joe and the Fish. Try adding that kind of glitz to an hour-long discussion of "the symbolism of the point within a circle."

The other issue is that our boring meetings compete with the likes of 70-inch big-screen TVs with practically any movie ever made available any time we want it. Add to that the constant buzz of activity on our smart phones, which sometimes includes 24/7 availability for our jobs and, oh yeah, the small matter of our family activities. You want to match all that against a lengthy discussion of a point within a circle? Without pyrotechnics?

With all the activity and excitement happening around us we stay home glued to our cell phones and have less real social interaction. We bowl alone.

So what could we do to stem this tide? Easy… We could get rid of all TV's, smart phones, the Internet and especially those fidget-spinners and go back to the time when our grandfathers had nothing to do for social interaction and entertainment but go to a Lodge meeting; and, by the way, do you think granddad's Lodge spent an hour on Masonic education?

Well, we can't go back, can we? But we can take advantage of what we have. If you want Masonic education, go get it. We don't have to depend on our Lodges for it. And more than granddad, who had to borrow a book or go to the library, we have the world at our fingertips. Listen to podcasts like "Whence Came You" or "The Masonic Roundtable." Read Masonic blogs like… hey, you're doing it right now. Do some research and write an article or two. Who knows where this can lead? Maybe — and I know this is radical — one evening you can take your Brothers by surprise, stand up and present what you've learned in Lodge. Be careful. You should probably start out as if you're announcing a chili supper, then ease into your real purpose for speaking.

The fact is if we don't get a lot of what we want in Lodge, the fix starts with each of us individually. It's just the way things are today. Look at that. We're just like the rest of society. If we want something other than business meetings and bean dinners, the hubbub, toys and distractions of modern-day society are backing us into a corner and forcing us to go "Freemason-ing alone."

The Kennedy Assassination

Miss Ruth Bertsch

"I have to tell you, the

President has been shot."

Our English teacher, Miss Ruth Bertsch, asked the class to read an Edgar Allen Poe story aloud. The first student in the first row read a paragraph and then the student behind her picked up the story, and so on. Several paragraphs into the reading another teacher opened the classroom door and asked Miss Bertsch to step out into the hallway. Miss Bertsch told the class to continue reading and left. As the reading reached the boy seated next to me, the classroom public address speaker popped on, playing eerie music. The kids in the class thought it was humorous since it complimented our Poe reading.

The music continued as Miss Bertsch came back in and walked to the front of the room. "I have to tell you," she said, "the President has been shot." The classroom fell silent.

In my mind, I imagined something like the McKinley shooting: a guy walking up to President Kennedy and shooting him at close range in the chest or abdomen. I was, at this time, unaware there had been a motorcade. For some reason, I figured the President was just wounded. McKinley didn't survive his shooting but this was 1963; we had great doctors, great medicine and surely they would do anything to care for the President of the United States.

The eerie music that filled the room became a news report. It had a lot of confusion, a lot of talk and not much information. The only significant facts were that President Kennedy had been riding in a motorcade, was shot, taken to the hospital and there was no word from the doctors there. There was still hope – things would be OK.

The bell rang and we all filed out. I walked the silent halls to my history class. Loren Comstock, the teacher, was a competitive bodybuilder who had won the 1958 Mr. Indiana contest. As the students settled into their seats he sat on the corner of his desk and said, "Let's just listen. However it turns out, this is history."

Mr. Loren Comstock

"However it turns out,

this is history."

The news reports continued to be confusing and did not provide a lot of information. Hope and despair ebbed and flowed. Then a reporter came on with this: "Two priests who came to the hospital have come back out. They said they administered Last Rights to President Kennedy and also said the President is dead."

That was the moment I knew. It wasn't official but I knew the priests wouldn't lie. Only the smallest fading spark of hope remained. It was still a long and excruciating wait for the official word. Finally, it came. My mind was numb and swimming in disbelief that such a thing could happen in our country.

I remember very little about the rest of the school day. I heard someone say the band members had been practicing in a room that did not have a PA system. They apparently came out of the room laughing, joking and tooting their horns as others questioned their antics until they learned the band students didn't know what was going on. The bus ride home was long and quiet.

That evening my family sat around the television watching Air Force One return to Washington. I belonged to a slot car racing club that met on Friday nights. I called another member, found out guys were showing up, so I decided to go. I thought it might help to get away from the somber events of the day. It didn't. Members just sat around and talked about their experiences earlier that day. We tried to do a little work on the cars but didn't get much done. We called off the races and I went home.

Saturday was a blur of TV and other activities around the house. I went shopping with my mother and remember being at a strip-mall with news about the events surrounding the assassination playing on speakers outside.

Sunday, I went with my parents and brother to my aunt and uncle's place about 40 miles north of our home. While we were riding up there, the news bulletin came on the radio that Lee Harvey Oswald had been shot. Again, there was no word of his condition but it wasn't long before we heard that he also had died. A weekend of unreal events had just become more bizzare.

North Central High School, Indianapolis, Indiana

They canceled school on Monday and I watched the events leading up to the funeral and the funeral itself. As clear today in my mind as it was then: ghostly black and white images of the procession, the flyover, the prayers, folding of the flag, the presentation to the frail Mrs. Kennedy standing next to Bobby and the lighting of the eternal flame. Most notably, I remember the bugler playing taps flubbing a note in the piece. Later news reports said he had done it on purpose as a tribute to the fallen President. I heard later this is not the case but that some buglers since have done the same thing as a tradition.

Tuesday it was back to school. Again, things were a blur. I don't remember much in the aftermath. One thing, we were in a new high school, the first year it had been opened. The gymnasium was not yet completed so we held all the basketball games in the old school. I can remember it being decorated in black mourning crepe.

The famed Zapruder film was not available right away. It was only as Life Magazine published the frames of the film in bits and pieces and, later, as the film itself came out that people learned how grisly the scene was and, frankly, how hopeless it was the President could have survived.

November 22, 1963, stands out in my memory more so than any other day: more than the Challenger or Columbia disasters, more than a string of tragedies since. Only September 11, 2001 comes close in terms of intensity, a date that those younger than I am can relate to like the Kennedy assassination as that instant when an entire nation of people knew exactly where they were and what they were doing at that single moment in time.

~SLH

Epilog: Mr. Comstock went on to become an Indianapolis attorney and here is shown being interviewed in 2018 about one of his cases. Miss Bertsch (Ruth E. Bertsch Stilwell) passed away in 2012 at the age of 93.

I Am Freemasonry by Ray V. Denslow

Ray Vaughn Denslow (1885-1960) was one of our most prolific Masonic authors. In addition to his many books and articles on Freemasonry he was, among other things, Missouri's Grand Master in 1932 and served as General Grand Chapter High Priest of Royal Arch Masons International from 1942 -1945. While going through his papers recently I found this item, which I want to share with you:

Harry Truman and Ray Denslow

I was born in antiquity, in the ancient days when men first dreamed of God. I have been tried through the ages, and found true. The crossroads of the world bear the imprint of my feet, and the cathedrals of all nations mark the skill of my hands. I strive for beauty and for symmetry. In my heart is wisdom and strength and courage for those who ask. Upon my altars is the Book of Holy Writ, and my prayers are to the One Omnipotent God, my sons work and pray together, without rank or discord, in the public mart and in the inner chamber. By signs and symbols I teach the lessons of life and of death and the relationship of man with God and of man with man.

My arms are widespread to receive those of lawful age and good report who seek me of their own free will. I accept them and teach them to use my tools in the building of men, and thereafter, find direction in their own quest for perfection so much desired and so difficult to attain. I lift up the fallen and shelter the sick. I hark to the orphans’ cry, the widows tears, the pain of the old and destitute. I am not church, nor party, nor school, yet my sons bear a full share of responsibility to God, to country, to neighbor and themselves. They are freemen, tenacious of their liberties and alert to lurking danger. At the end I commit them as each one undertakes the journey beyond the vale into the glory of everlasting life.

I ponder the sands within the glass and think how small is a single life in the eternal universe. Always have I taught immortality, and even as I raise men from darkness into light, I am a way of life.

I AM FREEMASONRY

Ray V. Denslow. 1933