DeMolay at 100

In September, 1914, the Kansas City Scottish Rite offered an energetic young Mason a job as Administrator of the newly-formed Mason's Relief Committee. A restaurant owner, the young Brother sold his business and went to work for the Masons. Frank Sherman Land didn't realize it but, at the age of 24, his destiny was now laid out before him.

In the years that followed, Land built the program into one of the premier relief organizations in Kansas City, helping secure hundreds of jobs for the unemployed and distributing food and clothing to the needy.  The organization grew and, in time, Land needed assistance, so he hired 17-year-old Lewis Lower to help him during evenings and weekends.  Lewis had just lost his father.  Land understood how much Lewis missed his father due to his separation from his own dad as a youth.  Land was so impressed with young Lewis that in February 1919 he suggested forming a club at the Scottish Rite temple in Kansas City for Lewis and some of his friends.  The following week, Lewis and his friends met there for the first time.

Over the next couple of months Land and Lower met with a core group of eight additional boys. Others joined and the little club began to flourish. They named this new organization after the last Grand Master of the Knights Templar who, rather than betray his God, defied the Pope and the King of France and was burned at the stake. Thus was born the Order of DeMolay which today, in 2019, celebrates 100 successful years of helping turn boys into men. My father, my brother and I are among the thousands who have benefited from its precepts. Also in that group are Frank Borman, Walt Disney, John Steinbeck, Fran Tarkenton, John Wayne and a host of others you would immediately recognize as leaders and role models.

To be sure, my experience as a DeMolay was somewhat different than boys who are members today. Like the Masons, the organization has suffered a decline in membership over the years. We had more members and more participation than typically found in chapters today. In fact, my chapter had so many members officers terms were limited six months so to give more boys a chance to advance. As Master Councilor I had a full line of officers – 22 in all.

I had the standard insecurities of any geeky high school student. My extra-curricular activities were church, Boy Scouts and DeMolay. Of all those it was DeMolay that best taught me I could be a leader. During my term we had a major event with Master, Senior and Junior Councilors coming in from all over the state for a Councilor's Night; and there I was, a 17-year-old kid, standing in the East with a Chapter packed with statewide DeMolay and Masonic Leaders. It was a big deal, and I was just a little too young and naive to recognize the support I had from the Chapter advisors who were really the ones who put it together. That's OK. Events like that gave me the confidence to be a leader, not a follower. And that is exactly what those advisors wanted.

I did not join the Freemasons immediately after being a DeMolay. I went off to college and never thought much about the Masons. When my father became a 50-year member, he asked me to attend the ceremony and present his jewel. As I walked into that Lodge room – my first time in about 25 years, the memories of my DeMolay experiences flooded back to me. Everything was as I remembered. It was all familiar, comfortable and even inspiring. Right then and there I decided I wanted to join, and I can say without hesitation if I had not been a DeMolay, I would not be a Freemason today.

It is my sincere hope and prayer that today's smaller groups of DeMolays get as much out of the organization as I did; and from what I've seen of many of them, they do. A recent survey showed about 9% of all Freemasons are former DeMolays. You could say that's not a high percentage. I prefer to look at it another way. You could also say fully nine per cent of our membership comes from DeMolay and in an era of falling membership any group that provides that percentage of our members is significant. Whatever the case, it wouldn't surprise me if many of those DeMolays who become Masons will also be among our leaders. Happy 100th birthday, DeMolay. May you flourish and have many more.

Louie Louie

The 1960s – the decade where the 1950s white bread era evolved into what some thought was an ill-bred era: the baby boomer's coming of age. Smack-dab in the middle of that transition The Kingsmen, an obscure rock group of limited talent, released a song that may have been destined for the dung-heap of obscurity… except for one thing. It was so lousy, no one could understand the words. Sounding like it was recorded inside a rubber hose, the recording's muffled lyrics led to much speculation as to what the group was really saying. When the collective jury issued a verdict on that debate, however, the word came down that the lyrics were "dirty." The debate and informal conclusion that the words were obscene skyrocketed the song, Louie Louie, into the Billboard top 10.

The debate raged on until even the FBI got involved and ruled it couldn't tell what the hell the group was saying. Matthew Welsh, Indiana Governor, didn't wait for no stinkin' FBI verdict. He bought his own copy of the record, played it at different speeds and declared it inappropriate. "It made my ears tingle," he said, whatever that means.

Welsh contacted a friend, Reid Chapman, who was the President of the Indiana Broadcasters Association, and told him, "It might be simpler all around if Louie Louie wasn't played." Chapman complied and yanked the song from the airwaves. People jumped to the conclusion that Welsh had banned Louie Louie.

The uber-conservative Indianapolis Star pounced right on that and wrote a scathing editorial that demolished both the song for its suspect lyrics and the Governor for overstepping his authority.

Soon after it was… or wasn't… banned in Indiana, Louie Louie dropped from the charts. Welsh, later in life, lamented the fact that although he really didn't ban the song, per se, "It's the only thing I'm remembered for."

Fast forward a few years to my sophomore year in college.

All the furor over the song had died down. Louie Louie remained relatively popular given, or in spite of, what one critic called "an abomination of overbearing jungle rhythm." In other words, it was a good party song. The hippie era was blossoming and the Kingsmen were considered an oldies band.

I lived in Wright Quadrangle, a sprawling dormitory on the Indiana University campus. My roommate, Mike, was its student government President. Mike was a great source of inside information about what was going on in the life of the dorm, which amounted to not much. He intended to change that. He told me for the past several years the quadrangle's Board of Governors hadn't planned any social activities. As a result, their budget for such things sat idle and they had accumulated quite a tidy sum. Mike decided we should have a giant blowout party with the funds. "I want a big-name band," he told me.

Even with a "tidy sum" tucked away, big-name bands weren't cheap and, even though the dorm had an enormous dining room, most of them wanted more than a dorm party. Mike's party fund was just enough to attract – guess who – the Kingsmen. Word spread across campus and the response was incredible. This was going to be… and maybe still is, the biggest party Wright Quad had ever seen.

The appointed night came for the widely-anticipated event. The gargantuan dining hall was packed beyond capacity; no one had bothered to invite the fire marshal. The Kingsmen didn't make the crowd wait for its signature song. The lights went down, the sound came up and the crowd went crazy with that familiar riff… ba-ba-ba ● ba-ba ●  ba-ba-ba ● ba-ba.

I don't remember any of their other songs but steadily throughout the night they reverted to Louie, driving the crowd into a frenzy.

I'm not sure what the truth is about what's on the record, but I can tell you first hand a couple things. First, the words weren't much more clear as I stood listening to them sing it in the same room. Second, as the evening progressed the crowd took over singing along with its own version of the song. That version was, by the standards of that time, obscene... had he been there, it would have made the Governor's ears tingle.

The Awesome Meeting

I went to a great Lodge meeting last night.

We opened on the First, Second and Third Degrees of Freemasonry.

The Worshipful Master called on the Secretary to read the minutes of the last meeting.  The Secretary read the minutes, including every name of every attendee and the names of each officer filling each station. The Secretary then reported he also had minutes from a called meeting held since our last regular stated communication.  He read those minutes and in the same manner ran through the list of names of all attendees and officers in each position.  The members present approved the minutes as read.

The Worshipful Worshipful Master asked if there were any petitions presented.  The Secretary announced there was one.  He read the petition in full, word-for-word.   The Worshipful Master appointed an investigating committee to meet with the petitioner.

Things really got exciting when there was an alarm at the outer door.  The Junior Deacon answered and announced there were two additional Brothers desiring admission.  The Worshipful Master admitted them.

An investigating committee reported full and favorable on a candidate. We voted. He was elected.

A Brother from the building committee reported the air conditioner did not have to be replaced but could be repaired.  It doesn't get any more exciting than that.

Time being short we had to postpone Masonic education. What's worse, had to table a discussion to plan our upcoming fish fry. 

The Worshipful Master then proceeded to close the Lodge, peace and harmony prevailing.

I’m looking forward to the next meeting.  That discussion of the fish fry could get really interesting when we try to decide what to serve the attendees who don’t like fish.

It was an awesome evening.  I just can’t figure why attendance at meetings is so low and why anyone would not want to join this fraternity.