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

Ed B------ and the Lilli Dunn Kidnapping

For seven years, approximately 1976-1983, I worked as an IT manager for X---------- in Detroit. There I reported to a man named Ed B------. Ed was a character. He had come to X---------- from one of the Big-8 eight accounting-consulting firms, Z-------------. There, he had been an IT consultant, after which he came to X---------- as the Director of its computer department.

Ed was what you might describe as a "Playboy." He had, that I knew of, a few girlfriends (one, a woman that worked in my department) and was always "on the prowl." He loved to party and was close – probably a little too close – to all the people who worked for him. We had several parties at his residence – New Year's Eve, Halloween and whatever occasion – and most times the entire department was invited.

I got pretty close to Ed as did the other managers in the area. We bummed around together at work and other times and Ed never minded breaking the rules. We had fun at work and that extended beyond business hours.

One day I was outside my office in the executive area getting a cup of coffee and a man in a dark suit walked in just as Ed was coming out of his office. "Mr. B------," asked the man.

"Yes," answered Ed.

The man pulled a badge out of his pocket and showed it to Ed, "FBI," he said.

Ed replied, "I've been expecting you." That certainly made my mind race, but I had to wait until later to hear the rest of the story.

Afterward, Ed told me (and others) what it was all about. A young Detroit-area woman, Lilli Dunn, had been kidnapped. "She was dragged out of her home and thrown into a car kicking and screaming," as Ed put it. The FBI interviewed Ed because he had dated her a few years back. As I understood it, Lilli worked for Z---------- and that's how Ed got to know her. The news reports only mentioned she worked for the Detroit News, but she was, in fact, an accountant.

That's pretty much as far as Ed's account went with me but others in the department pressed him for more salacious details. Ed admitted (bragged) that he and Lilli had been intimate.

Ed was so easy-going and friendly with the guys in the department they cooked up an idea to play a joke on him… a really nasty one. They brought in another guy Ed would not have known and had him impersonate an FBI agent. He told Ed this was a standard part of an investigation and he needed more specific details about his relationship with Lilli. He conducted the second interview in Ed's office and got some juicy details about his sex life with her – and he recorded every word. I was unaware that any of this was going on.

Recording in hand, the perpetrators went to a specialty shop and had it cut into a record. Ed was, at the time, very much into the 'Freaky Deaky,' so they slapped that label on it and took it to a party Ed was having at his house, knowing Ed would select that to play, for sure. My wife and I had a vacation scheduled, so we did not attend the party.

The Monday after the party I got back from vacation. Ed came in late and stuck his head in the door, "Come to lunch with me."

I didn't know what to think. If it was to be one of Ed's "fun lunches" we should have been inviting others to go with us. This time it was just the two of us. The minute we got out the door and out of earshot of anyone else, Ed started unloading about what had happened at the party. This was the first I ever heard of the scheme. It seems it went just as the instigators had planned. The revelers asked Ed to put on some music to liven the party and, sure enough, the Freaky Deaky came up. To Ed's shock the fake FBI interview and his sex life with Lilli blasted all over the room. Everyone wanted to hear the whole thing and wouldn't let him get near the stereo to turn it off. They thought easy-going Ed would laugh along with the rest of them but it didn't turn out that way.

Ed was furious. Since I hadn't been at the party, I was just about the only one in the department he was speaking to. Ed's attitude was pretty much, "no more Mr. Nice guy." It changed his relationship with most of the people in the department and I was fortunate not to have been a part of it. Ed ultimately promoted me to a position with greater responsibilities. We remained friends and even took a couple vacations together.

I eventually left for "greener pastures." Ed continued to play hard and work hard. A heavy drinker and smoker, he died suddenly of a heart attack in 2009, at the age of 63.

I am totally certain, as is the FBI, that Ed had nothing to do with the abduction of Lilli Dunn.

Tyler Pete

The following is based on a true incident that happened in my Masonic Lodge. Names have been changed to protect the innocent, even though no one was innocent. It was first published on the Midnight Freemasons blog and it's about the aftermath of a dinner we had at the Lodge and a crazy idea that didn't work out so well. So with many apologies to Brother Robert W. Service and a poem he wrote about the cremation of a guy named Sam McGee I give you Tyler Pete And The Stairlift Chair.

There are strange things done in the Lodge, my son

By the Wardens and Stewards and such.

The kitchen crew has stories for you

That would make you lose your lunch.

The banquet nights have seen such fright

But the scariest night I swear

Was the Fourth of July when things went awry

And Tyler Pete crashed the stairlift chair.

Now that Tyler Pete he had two flat feet; he'd been there since time began.

No one cares when he went through the chairs, but he was Master way back when.

He moved around slow, yet gave it a go as the evening's chores accrued;

But he'd let you know with a tale of woe, "Dishes I don't want to do."

On the Fourth of July we had cake and pie and heaps of Masonic green beans.

The Lodge was well fed, "Too much food," they said, "have to take it home, it seems."

They packed it all up on plates and in cups and sat it all by the door.

There were many loads to get on the road, all stacked from ceiling to floor.

Now that Tyler Pete with the two flat feet, was still as sharp as a tack.

"Oh, I know," he said, "with his arms outspread, we'll put it all in a stack.

And the stairlift chair will take it down there... It cannot fail, I swear.

In no time at all, we'll get to the hall at the bottom of the stairs."

So he packed it up, every plate and cup and balanced it without fear.

Then he hit the switch but a little glitch made the whole load buck and veer.

Well, the chair, it stopped, but the load atop, shot out like a cannon ball.

The whole pile of trash dropped down with a crash, a big hot mess of a fall.

At very bottom, there was a problem: it was our big plate glass door.

The big ball of goop, pie, cake, beans and soup exploded through with a roar;

And glass and our food on the street it spewed — cars crashed in slime and meringue.

The last crash was shrill, but then it was still. The mishap stunned the whole gang.

Now Old Tyler Pete said, "It's not defeat. There's a good side to it all.

It may be a mess, but really we're blessed. Let's try not to be appalled. 

It's really a boon, as you will see soon. The good side of this shines through.

I'm happy you see and soon you will be: the dishes we don't have to do."

There are strange things done in the Lodge, my son

By the Wardens and Stewards and such.

The kitchen crew has stories for you

That would make you lose your lunch.

The banquet nights have seen such fright

But the scariest night I swear

Was the Fourth of July when things went awry

And Tyler Pete crashed the stairlift chair.

Jack the Ripper

It seems almost any high-profile mystery brings conspiracy theorists out of the woodwork with at least one angle pointing to the Masons. From the street patterns of Washington, DC, to alleged Masonic symbolism on the dollar bill to the Kennedy assassination there are those who would put the Freemasons behind it all. Not surprising, then, is the belief by some that the Jack the Ripper slayings of the late 19^th century, also known as the Whitechapel murders, were a devious Masonic plot.

There are varying accounts as to how the Masons were involved, as is usually the case when speculators don't let facts get in the way of their theories. They all, however, identify Sir William Gull as the infamous Ripper. Gull appears as Jack the Ripper in books, movies and countless Internet posts including the 1988 TV adaptation Jack the Ripper: The Final Solution by Stephen Knight and the 2000 graphic novel (roughly a novel in comic book form) From Hell written by Alan Moore and illustrated by Eddie Campbell. Subsequently the Hollywood Movie From Hell starring Johnny Depp was loosely based on the novel.

William Withey Gull was a respected physician credited with many significant contributions to medicine including advancements in the diagnosis and treatment of Bright's disease, myxoedema and paraplegia. He also named the devastating eating disorder anorexia nervosa.

He became personal physician (Physician-Ordinary) to Queen Victoria and the Royal Family. The conspiracy theory and premise of the movie (which parallels most of the Ripper Masonic theories) begins with the historical inaccuracy of Prince Edward Albert contracting syphilis. This allegedly tarnishes Gull's reputation as the Prince's physician because Gull was unable to treat him. Gull, portrayed as a Freemason in the film, takes it upon himself to eradicate the prostitutes that caused the Prince's affliction. He does this by murdering the prostitutes with the implication they are ritual killings associated with the Freemasons.

Not to leave any stone unturned, the movie also depicts the Prince as taking on the identity of Walter Sickert. Sickert, rather than being an alias of the Prince, was in fact a 19^th century painter. Some believe he once lived in Jack the Ripper's apartment, a speculation likely due to the fact one of his paintings was titled, "Jack the Ripper's Bedroom."

To be sure, historically Prince Edward Albert and Sickert were separate individuals, but in the movie, the Prince becomes Sickert and marries Ann Crook, taking her away from her life as a prostitute. Together, the Prince and Ann have a daughter, Alice. By English law therefore, Alice becomes an heir to the throne and the film surmises Queen Victoria ordered that this problem be eliminated. Gull, as the Ripper, takes it upon himself to do so in a far more grisly way than Queen Victoria had intended.

In the denouement, Depp portrays Frederick Abberline, the actual Ripper case investigator, confronting Gull, and taking some off-the-wall liberties with the Masonic ritual, not to mention the actual facts of the case:

Abberline: "The arrangement of the coins at Dark Annie's feet and also the locations of the bodies form a pentacle star. The pentacle star is a symbol of the Freemasons is it not, sir?"

Gull: "Yes"

Abberline: "And the way all these women were killed... throats cut left to right, organs removed... they're reenactments, aren't they, sir?"

Gull: "Reenactments of what?"

Abberline: "The Jews. The traitors who killed Hiram Abiff, founder of the Masons, that's how they were executed."

Gull: "Ah, yes... so the great book tells us."

Abberline: "So, Jack the Ripper isn't just merely killing whores. He's executing traitors. He's a Mason, fulfilling a duty."

Gull: "Yes, I'm afraid, Inspector, that you won't be permitted to arrest him."

Abberline: "I don't want to arrest him. The Ripper has one more traitor yet to kill; and I will stop him. Did they come to you, sir, as a loyal Mason? Did they ask you to help and cover up the Prince's secret marriage?"

Gull: "That's how it started, yes."

Abberline: "And then you discovered the Prince had syphilis."

Gull: "He's going to die of it, Inspector. Would you like a tour of the syphilis wards?"

Abberline: "You're a physician, an Ordinary to the Queen, entrusted with the well-being of the heir to the throne. Only you had reason to believe that these unfortunates, these whores, these traitors destroyed your life's work."

Gull: "Below the skin of history are London's veins. These symbols... the miter... the pentacle star... even someone as ignorant and degenerate as you can sense that they course with energy and meaning. I am that meaning. I am that energy. [Scream and killing scene]. One day men will look back and say I gave birth to the Twentieth Century."

Although paragraphs could be written about it, the pentacle star, an Eastern Star symbol, is not generally accepted as a Masonic symbol: "[The five-pointed star] was a Pythagorean symbol, but is not mentioned in the Masonic ritual and seems never to have been a Masonic emblem. There was and is a Blazing Star in the center of the Mosaic Pavement, which is a different symbol." (Coil’s Masonic Encyclopedia (1961), s.v. “Five-Pointed Star; Pentalpha”). Added to this is the fact that the locations of the Whitechapel murders were not in the form of a five-pointed star.

Jurisdictional details may differ, but in most the method of execution of the traitors in the Masonic ritual is not completely specified, except that in most depictions it is assumed they were beheaded. As all Freemasons know, symbolic references to throats being cut and disembowelments appear elsewhere in the ritual.

The movie's reference to the Jews derives from a chalk graffiti found at the scene of one of the murders saying (with variations), "The Juwes [sic] are the men that will not be blamed for nothing." The movie and other conspiracy theories claim the misspelling in the message to be an illusion to the three ruffians who killed Hiram Abiff, Jubela, Jubelo and Jubelum. Masons do not refer to the ruffians as such and originally, until 1760, they were unnamed. The names of the ruffians were not used in English rituals at the time of the murders and there is no reason to believe Masons at the time knew them. It is more likely the note is nothing more than a misspelling and the connection was made later, after the names were known. (The Three Ruffians, Grand Lodge of British Columbia http://Freemasonry.bcy.ca).

Finally, there is the issue of Dr. Gull himself. In the movie, Gull is portrayed by Ian Holm, who was, at the time of filming, 68 years old and in good health. His character is spry enough to carry out the brutal and physical murders. The five murders attributed to the Ripper happened between August and November, 1888, when Gull was 72. The previous year, Dr. Gull's health began to decline. He suffered a series of strokes and a heart attack that, by the time of the murders, had rendered him unable to commit the crimes. The London Times reported Gull's first stroke paralyzed him and he was never able to resume his practice.

Even the movie's fictional Gull makes an issue of the physical nature of the murders when Abberdine suggests the Prince could be the murderer, "The disease [syphilis] is far enough along that the Prince's hands tremble uncontrollably. He's very weak; and the killings of Jack the Ripper require sure hands and considerable vigor." The stricken Gull, at the time, did not have "considerable vigor."

At the end of the movie, the exposed Gull disavows the Freemasons, a fact that may be lost on viewers and conspiracy theorists alike, "I have no peers present here... No man among you is fit to judge the mighty art that I have wrought. Your rituals are empty oaths you neither understand nor live by. The Great Architect speaks to me. He is the balance where my deeds are weighed and judged... not you."

Dr. Gull died of a final stroke January 29, 1890. The final Whitechapel murder occurred after his death, although authorities did not conclusively attribute it to Jack the Ripper. Whether or not that final killing was his or not, the facts are certain that Gull was not Jack the Ripper, nor were the murders some sort of Masonic ritual.

One final thing: there is not a shred of evidence that Dr. William Gull was a Freemason.

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

Council of Grand Masters Badge