UGLE 300th Anniversary Celebration

Years ago I had a job which required frequent trips to Washington, DC. I became familiar with the area and bit by bit pretty much saw everything there was to see; and believe me, there is a lot to see. I soon learned you never need to rent a car; you just use the Metro. I soon learned you never want to rent a car because the traffic there will break the spirit of even the most seasoned commuter. I became an expert on the District of Columbia’s geography. I recall once I even gave directions to someone to the Russian Embassy, a building I called “the porcupine” because it had so many antennas sticking out of it… hmmm…

On one occasion a business associate gave me a tour of Old Town Alexandria. As we strolled down King Street he probably pointed out a massive 300 foot tall building to the west and he probably told me what it was. The fact is, though, I have no recollection of that.

I know I saw it because if you’re in Alexandria, you’d have to be blind to miss it. That building, I’m sure you can guess, was the The George Washington Masonic National Memorial. Didn’t go there; didn’t care.

You see, for all those places I saw in the DC area, I missed two of the most important: that Memorial building in Alexandria and the Scottish Rite House of the Temple. The thing is, back then, I was not a member of this fraternity.

Fast forward to 2017, the 300^th anniversary of the founding of the United Grand Lodge of England. A group of young, dynamic, hard-working Brothers decided the US should celebrate the tricentennial along with the UGLE. From that idea that started out as nothing more than a brainstorm, those Brothers assembled a program that was one of the best Masonic forums I have attended.

Meeting on June 23^rd and 24^th, the celebration, held at that venerable George Washington Masonic National Memorial included a special tour of the Scottish Rite House of the Temple in DC; and there I was, able to tour those two important places I neglected to see all those years ago. For me personally, that alone would have made it, in a sense, the trip of a lifetime.

But wait, there’s more. In addition to the presentations throughout the day, the Brothers were insistent on giving every attendee a chance to speak and contribute. One of the most interesting parts of the event was a plenary forum where we discussed and debated topics important to the fraternity. Everyone had a chance to voice an opinion on proficiencies, dues and other issues. What’s more, the attendees themselves, not the moderators, chose the topics.

Of course, one of the things that makes any such gathering great is the ability to see old friends and make new ones. As my friend and Brother Greg Knott from Illinois put it in his essay on the Midnight Freemasons blog, “At any of these type of events, my favorite part is meeting and talking with Brothers from all over the world. I was particularly pleased to meet a brother from the Most Worshipful Prince Hall Grand Lodge of Washington DC. We had both lunch and dinner together and had some great conversations.” I had similar experiences.

Most agreed another highlight was Brother John Ruark’s assessment of statistics he has assembled on the fraternity. Sounds dry, doesn’t it? Quite the contrary. In a word, Brother Ruark gave us some amazing information on exactly who we are.

Brother Ruark is a member of the group behind this event. In addition to John, these Brothers, known for their podcast, “The Masonic Roundtable,” are Jason Richards, Juan Sepulveda, the newest member Mike “The Intern” Hambrecht and the host of this podcast, Robert Johnson. These are names you would do well to remember and The Masonic Roundtable is the Internet equivalent of “must see TV.”

Well, as Steve Jobs used to say, “there’s one more thing.” According to Brother Mark Tabbert, Keynote speaker for the event, that date — 1717 — may be in error. He thinks the correct date for the founding of the UGLE may be 1721. Hey, we’re Freemasons. There has to be some controversy. I say, let’s have another party in four years.

The members of the Masonic Roundtable put together an event that would be the envy of any Grand Lodge. Ironically, it was a celebration of Freemasonry’s past that may have revealed more about Freemasonry’s future.For the Whence Came You podcast, this is Steve Harrison with the Masonic Minute.

His Luck Ran Out

Noblesville, Indiana, population about 60,000 and growing, is the Seat of Hamilton County, located about 25 miles north of Indianapolis.  It’s sort of a special place to me since I was born there.  My father, Robert, was a member of the town’s Masonic Lodge, Noblesville 57.  But this isn’t about my father or me; it’s about another member of Noblesville 57, a man named Earl Teter.

Better known as “Lucky”,  Earl Teter was born in Noblesville in 1901.  He was president of his high school class for 3 years, captain of the basketball team, a football player and a champion boxer.  Influenced by the world-famous race held just a few miles south of his home, the Indianapolis 500, Teter was always attracted to thrills and action.  So in 1934, he recruited a group of drivers and put an automobile show of “thrills and spills” on the road. 

He called this group of daredevils “Lucky Teter’s Hell Drivers,” the first use of the phrase many have used since.  For the next several years, Lucky and his band of stunt drivers toured the country, playing to massive crowds with their ever-increasingly dangerous show.

Teter’s fame and success mounted until everything changed on December 7, 1941.  With the United States entering World War II, Teter decided to close his show to help with the war effort.  He planned one final performance, fittingly, on July 4, 1942. 

Wanting a “grand finale,” Lucky vowed to break the world record by jumping his car over a panel truck at a distance of 135 feet.  In front of an excited sellout crowd at the Indianapolis Fairgrounds, he got in his car, jammed his foot on the accelerator, hit the launch ramp at full speed and made the jump, setting the world record.  Knowing this was a special day and his final performance before the war, Teter had the ramps moved back to 140 feet, made another attempt and set another world record.  Ever the showman, he repeated the stunt at 145 feet.

Having set three world records he stepped to a microphone and told the crowd he would set one final record to honor the servicemen who now had the very future of the country in their hands. “I want,” he said, “to thank the officers and soldiers… I’m dedicating this last stunt not only to the soldiers here, but to all those in Uncle Sam’s armed forces throughout the world.”

With that, he had the distance set at 150 feet.  Attempting his 4th world record of the day, he got into his car, fired the engine and headed full-tilt toward the launch ramp.  Spectators reported they heard Teter’s birght yellow 1938 Plymouth misfire as he sped toward the jump.  He didn’t have nearly enough speed.  Earl Teter’s luck ran out as his jump fell short and he lost his life.

Today, Lucky Teter remains one of Noblesville’s favorite sons.  Each year in August, the town hosts the “Lucky Teter Rebel Run.  Proceeds go to, what else, the Noblesville Masonic Angel Fund in memory of a courageous Brother whose final act was dedicated to the soldiers of World War II.

For the Whence Came You podcast, this is Steve Harrison with the Masonic Minute.

Wisdom, Power and Goodness

"Geometry, the first and noblest of sciences is the basis on which the superstructure of Freemasonry is erected. By Geometry, we may curiously trace nature through her various windings to her most concealed recesses. By it, we discover the wisdom, power and goodness of the Grand Architect of the Universe and view with delight the proportions which connect this vast machine. By it we discover how the planets move in their respective orbits and demonstrate their various revolutions."

I recall sitting in a science class in high school. Our teacher, Mr. Mohr, dropped a chunk of sodium into a beaker of water. The sodium instantly fizzed up and zooped around the beaker like an out of control power boat. Then it burst into flames and finally exploded as the students oohed and aahed. When the rumbling subsided, the diabolical Mr. Mohr called on an unfortunate student, "Henry, what made it do that?"

Henry beamed, "God."

The class thought it was funny. Mr. Mohr, who had the sense of humor of a wounded gorilla, didn't. In his own gruff and unsympathetic way he explained that just because we don't understand something doesn't mean it's a direct result of God's action.

True, but in fact the Masonic ritual teaches there is a relationship between God and the physical universe. From that relationship, as we learn in the Second Degree lecture, we can not only observe the magnificence of the Creator, but also draw moral symbolism from metaphors we see in His physical creation.

God and science are not at war. They can't be. Think about that… they can't be. It is we humans, who don't have all the answers when it comes to understanding either God or science, who somehow perceive there is a war. As Henry discovered, it's a slippery slope to take something we don't understand, stop research, and conclude it's God's work; in that event, what happens when we discover the scientific principle behind it? Historically, many have taken the stance that the research is wrong in the face of overwhelming evidence that it is, in fact, right.

In the 17^th century, for example, humans did not understand the solar system. It was taken as scientific and religious fact that the sun circled the earth (Psalm 104 tells us: "He set the earth on its foundations; it can never be moved." ~Psalm 104:5, NIV)." When scientists proved the earth, in fact, did orbit the sun, rather than being inconsistent with God's design, it revealed it. The church, however, still didn't warm up to the concept right away. Today, scientists and virtually all religious establishments know it to be an incontrovertible fact.

Today's hot buttons include evolution, the "Big Bang Theory" and a few more points of contention. Regardless of your point of view on these issues, the facts for each are overwhelming; and with some religious groups challenging scientific evidence we are, on some level, back in the 17^th century. Scientific discoveries are not political, not vindictive and not anti-God. They are based on fact. (Not, by the way, just on observation — any idiot can observe daily that the sun circles the earth). These discoveries don't offer proof of God one way or the other. They prove we have learned more about God's universe and, as we are admonished, should "view with delight" all such revelations.

What these scientific discoveries do prove is that God is bigger and more complex than we can ever comprehend. So complex, in fact, that when asked to prove God exists, famed theologian and Freemason Peter Marshall responded, "How could my tiny mind prove God?"

The Reverend Marshall went further. He turned the tables and asked his questioners to prove they existed. Fact is, he was onto something. Any legitimate, credible scientist today will tell you, your body is nothing but energy. Your house, everything inside it, the trees outside, the very ground you walk on is nothing but energy. This is not some kind of New Age folderol; it's scientific fact. Sounds kind of spiritual, doesn't it? Or, as Dr. Wayne Dyer put it, "You are not a body with a soul. You are a soul with a body"

If what you personally believe about God seems inconsistent with scientific facts, consider this: scientists have already observed the world of relativity and the quantum world appear completely incompatible. Yet, they coexist! Can't God coexist along with them even with perceived inconsistencies? And don't we know on some level all those inconsistencies have to iron themselves out, even if that process is beyond our human capability to figure out?

So many concepts still baffle our best scientists: dark matter and dark energy; the nature of time and matter inside black holes — the "singularity"; a unified theory; the possibility of parallel universes; backwards time travel; dimensions beyond the three (four, if you count time) we live in; quantum entanglement, a phenomenon so strange and baffling that Einstein called it "spooky." To each of these, the best scientific minds around would say, "We just don't completely understand." Or, perhaps more accurately, "We just don't have all the facts."

Many, even some scientists, think there may be spiritual elements to these mysteries. The scientists, however, will not draw conclusions without proven facts — pesky hindrances that some outside the scientific community have the luxury of ignoring. In our lifetimes, we will most likely solve some of these mysteries. To many, those discoveries will not just reveal scientific facts. They will also give us greater insight into the wisdom, power and goodness of the Grand Architect of the Universe.

And I, for one, finding far more spirituality in science than science in spirituality, anticipate each new discovery with delight.

For the Whence Came You podcast, this is Steve Harrison with the Masonic Minute.

The Christmas Flower

Brother Joel R. Poinsett (1779-1851) had a successful diplomatic career as US Secretary of War, US Congressman and Minister to Mexico.  Additionally, he was instrumental in the formation of the Grand Lodge of Mexico, served as Deputy General Grand High Priest of the General Grand Chapter of Royal Arch Masons, Master of two of his Lodges, Deputy Grand Master of the Grand Lodge of South Carolina and Grand High Priest of the Grand Chapter of South Carolina.  Even with impressive credentials like that, however, he is best remembered for a plant he brought back from Mexico, the Mexican Fire Plant.  After cultivating it and introducing it in the US, the plant was named in his honor.  Today, the Poinsettia is the traditional Christmas flower. (Originally posted April 2, 2011)

Grounded

Brother John Glenn, Concord Lodge 688 Concord, Ohio, became the first American to orbit the earth on February 20, 1962. Immediately recognized as one of the greatest American heroes of the time, the ticker-tape parade in New York held in his honor equaled in size only that of Brother Charles Lindbergh. Afterward, the city reported it had picked up a record 3,474 tons of confetti! Brother Glenn never flew again during the early space program. Reports say officials grounded him because they felt in the event of a mishap, the loss of such a great American hero would irreparably damage the space program as well as the morale of the American public.

In Whom Do You Put Your Trust

The candidate, as instructed, knelt at the altar. In front of him in the east, the Worshipful Master stood at his podium and asked a question we have all been asked, "In whom do you put your trust?"

Silence followed.

Having encountered similar hesitation before, the composed WM rephrased the question and asked, "In whom do you put your spiritual trust?"

After another long pause the candidate finally answered, "I guess I put my trust in myself. If you are trying to get me to say I put my trust in God, I can't. I don't believe in God."

Another period of silence followed. Still composed and carefully assessing the situation, the Master asked, "Would you please repeat what you just said?" The candidate repeated his answer. Standing before a hushed and stunned Lodge, the veteran Master knew exactly what he had to say next, "Brother Senior Deacon, you will escort the candidate to the preparation room."

Freemasons believe in God; and we take it seriously. It's not just lip-service. We tolerate all religions, but hold a belief in Deity as the single non-negotiable requirement to becoming a member. No exceptions. And no exception was made that night, either.

Epilogue: This incident took place early a couple years ago, at Brotherhood Lodge #269 in St. Joseph, Missouri, with a friend of mine, Dennis Vogel, presiding. The Missouri petition is very clear in stating that the candidate holds a strict belief in God, but this candidate signed the petition anyway. The investigating committee covered the issue of belief in God with the candidate; and the candidate very skillfully crafted a satisfactory answer. The question in Lodge, however, "In whom do you put your trust," doesn't leave a lot of wiggle room... as the candidate discovered.

Alfalfa Switzer — A Little Rascal's Tragedy

One of the episodes in the Our Gang series tells the tale of the young cowlick-bedecked Alfalfa attempting to shed his reputation as a common crooner and become a great opera star. He visits an opera company where the impresario is so inspired he immediately signs Alfalfa to a contract effective 20 years hence. At the appointed time two decades later, the intrepid divo makes his operatic debut and the audience, predictably, boos him off the stage. It's all downhill from there for our hero, whose adult life just doesn't turn out the way he expected. The episode ends happily as Alfalfa wakes from his dream, sees the error of his ways and returns to his calling as a popular, albeit off-key, crooner.

In many ways the episode is a foreshadowing of the real life of the actor, Carl "Alfalfa" Switzer, whose meteoric rise to fame as a child preceded a tragic adulthood.

Hal Roach created the Our Gang comedies in 1921 after watching a group of kids do what kids do best. They were playing in his yard. Originally made as silent films the series grew in popularity as Roach added sound in the 1930s. MGM re-released the episodes in the mid 1950s as The Little Rascals.

In 1935, Carl's parents took him and his older brother Harold to visit the Hal Roach Studios in Los Angeles. The purpose of the trip was nothing less than to turn Carl and Harold into child stars; and it worked. Carl and Harold parked themselves in front of the crowd at the studio's café and began performing. Roach saw them and signed them on the spot.

Carl... Alfalfa, as he was known in the series... quickly overshadowed Harold and became one of the top stars along with regulars Darla Hood and George "Spanky" McFarland. He was enormously popular with viewers but was just as unpopular with the child actors and filming crew.

Alfalfa was a prankster and the biggest bully of the gang. During filming he would intentionally step on other kids feet or stick them with a nail he carried in his pocket. On one occasion a cameraman became frustrated with Carl as he muffed his lines and told him to, "get it right so we can go to lunch." After the cameraman left, Alfalfa gave each of the kids a stick of gum and collected it back from them after they were done chewing it. Then he took the enormous wad and stuck it into the gears of the camera. That afternoon, the kids went home while the cameraman tried to save his machine.

One day director George Sidney became so frustrated with Alfalfa's antics he pulled him aside and told him, "Come and see me when you grow up so I can beat the crap out of you."

In 1940, Roach booted 13-year old Alfalfa from the series for being too old. He had been earning about $750 a week — a fortune in the depression era — and supporting his family. Suddenly it all ended and, like most child stars, he did not make a successful transition into acting as an adult.

While continuing to struggle in his acting career, he became an outdoorsman and hunting guide. In 1958, he borrowed a hunting dog from a man named Bud Stiltz. He lost the dog when it ran after a bear on a hunting trip, and he offered a reward for the dog's return. When a man brought the dog back to him, Alfalfa was so grateful he paid the reward and bought the man several drinks. Later, he decided Stiltz should be responsible for the money he spent on the dog's return. On January 21, 1959, Carl went to him and demanded $50. Stiltz refused to pay. They argued and fought. Finally, Alfalfa drew a knife and went after him. Stiltz ran, got a gun and killed the 31-year old former child star. A jury subsequently acquitted Stiltz of any wrongdoing.

Along the way, there was a bright spot in Carl's short and tragic life. In his work as a hunting guide, he crossed paths with cowboy superstar Roy Rogers, a 33° Mason and member of Hollywood Lodge 355. Roy tried to help Carl's faltering career by giving him parts in several of his shows. He also encouraged Carl to join the Freemasons, which he did.

Brother Carl was buried in Hollywood Forever cemetery, a resting place for many of Hollywood's greatest. His tombstone bears symbols of the better parts of his otherwise tough life: It reads "Carl 'Alfalfa' Switzer" and is adorned by a carving of a hunting dog (not "Pete" from the Our Gang series, as some think), and two square and compasses flank the top. Interestingly, the cemetery sits on the grounds of what once was Southland Lodge 617, and the original Lodge building is still standing.

Alfalfa and other child actors from the series proved being a child star wasn't as glamorous as it might have seemed. About half of them, Carl included, did not live to see 40. Even Carl's brother Harold committed suicide at age 42. Today, the Little Rascals are all gone; every one of them. Many, Carl chief among them, never had that second chance Alfalfa got when he woke from his operatic nightmare.