I Hate This Post

It was another outstanding evening at old St. John's. The energy was at the same level as it was at our last meeting, and that one was buzzing. Brethren were arranged in groups chatting, laughing, and enjoying the greatest benefit of our craft, good fellowship among good men. The District Deputy was waiting for me when I got there(I am always the first to arrive) and quickly ushered me to the candidate preparation room because it was our annual inspection and it was time for me to be tested. No problems there. After blazing my way through the words and grips, I went back to setting up the lodge for our second Entered Apprentice degree in as many meetings. We had three candidates waiting to be brought to light and with the usual degree of pomp that accompanies a Grand Lodge inspection. This went on without a hitch, delivered meaningfully and gracefully by the Brethren of my lodge. Our three newest brothers were then treated to three meetings worth of minutes that had been pushed aside for too long and a couple of bills,which I was sorry they had to sit through! We then closed in due fashion and went downstairs for a little refreshment and more fellowship.
One by one the Brothers left until it was myself, the Worshipful Master, the Senior Warden, and the Junior Deacon. We started to discuss the heavy matter of the future of the lodge and during the discussion it was decided that we should move it outside so the W.M. and S.W. could have a cigarette and me and the J.D. decided to join them and have a cigar, which has become a little tradition that I am really enjoying with the J.D. after our meetings. All sorts of angles were covered outside and due to the cold, we decided to cut it short, so I went inside to lock up so we all could go home. Before I went inside I noticed a car pulling in to our parking lot, it kind of creeped in and parked near to where we were all standing. I thought maybe it was somebody from the church who owns our building and continued turning off the lights and when I heard a conversation going on outside, I came outside to check if it was indeed someone from the church needing to get in. It turned out to be a young man in search of some answers about Freemasonry so I went back in and finished locking up.
Now this is why I hate this post.
As you may or may not know, here in America there are two distinct bodies of Freemasons. Each has a tradition going back to the 1700's. Each operate in accordance with the ancient landmarks of our order. Each are proud to be called Freemasons and I see no difference between us as I have stated many times on my blog, but unfortunately due to the atrocities of history there evolved two distinct bodies of Freemasons, so called"mainstream" or regular Freemasons and Prince Hall Freemasons. We here in the state of Connecticut were the first in the nation to officially recognise each other and we continue to work together in harmony and brotherhood. It was my Grand Lodge that reached out and asked the Prince Hall Masons in our state for them to recognise us, not the other way around. It is a really incredible story that I have permanently added to my side bar and I think everyone should take the time to read just how hard it was to reach the point of recognition. Now to the crux of my post.
The young man asking us about how to join Freemasonry was African American, which makes no difference to me because I do not see people by their color, but I am in turmoil as to how to handle him. We all answered his questions about the fraternity and unfortunately due to the late hour and the cold ,we had to cut things a little short with him, but I gave him my card and told him to call me anytime and we could finish our Q&A session. During the conversation we explained to him that there were three lodges in our city that all operated the same way and he would be free to choose what ever lodge best suited his time schedule, as we all meet on different nights. Here lies my problem, while I whole heartily want to welcome this fine young man into my lodge and would gladly recommend him for the mysteries of Freemasonry, I don't know what to do about telling him about Prince Hall Freemasonry. I feel as if I were to say "one of the three lodges in our city is Prince Hall which is African American" would be like telling him we don't want him, which is not true. At the same time I feel as if I don't tell him about the P.H. lodge it would be like hiding something from him.
I hate that I am in this quandary. I hate the fact that after Prince Hall became a Master Mason and the Military Lodge that raised him left (which was Irish, I believe), he had no where to practice the lessons of Freemasonry. I love the fact that he did not let this stop him from forming his own lodge and extending the good work of Freemasonry to African Americans like himself. I love the fact that the lodge he formed spread and multiplied and became the foundation for the proud organization of Prince Hall Freemasonry. If my Grand Lodge allowed me, I would gladly affiliate myself with the Prince Hall lodge in my city as a dual member. I have worked with the Brothers from that lodge and marched with them in our Memorial Day parade together as Brothers. They are my brothers and I wish there were no line that separated us, but there is. If I were a Prince Hall Mason I would never want to relinquish the proud history of that organization and merge with a "regular" Grand Lodge, but it is that same pride that keeps us separate. We are a result of history and we cant change it. There are two bodies of men that practice the same tenets of Brotherly Love, Relief and Truth and unfortunately the thing that keeps one separate is the color of their skin. We can recognise each other and work together as Brethren but I don't foresee any change in the fact that there are two separate but equal forms of Freemasonry in America, which is sad.
What can we do?
What should I do?
There is much work to be done.

Further Inspiration

I am at a crossroads in my life.
I have followed the road before me allowing the divine to guide me to where I am, so here I am.
My life, through its turns and hills and valleys rambles on, and I am a faithful traveler. Tonight I watched a program on PBS called African American Lives 2 which, in turn, led me to my keyboard again to share myself with the mostly faceless world of the Masonic Blogosphere.
If you have read my story you know I am an American man of Irish decent. I have always been fascinated with history and have spent my life in the pursuit of the stories that make up what my experience is. I was always the one sitting and listening to the stories my grandparents told me of their lives in the old country or during the depression, or with anyone that had a story that was told, with what we Irish say, with enough embellishments said only for the sake of those listening. I have never forgotten them.
History, his-story, stories.
That is what this blog is about, the stories of my life since being raised to the sublime degree of Master Mason with a lot of old stories mixed in.
The story of my going by chance to a Prince Hall memorial ended up touching many more people than I could have ever imagined. Like all good stories, it came from the heart and transpired with the touch of the divine that makes a good story good.
Tonight, while watching the previously mentioned program, I was touched by the stories brought forth to some celebrities of African American descent of the history of their families that most of them did not know. At one point during the program comedian Chris Rock was brought to spontaneous tears after finding out about a great-grandfather who after being freed from slavery went on to fight in the Civil War and then became an elected official. Chris had never heard this story and admitted his life would have been much different had he grown up knowing what his ancestor had accomplished. I know the feeling, well, kind of.
I can certainly relate to spontaneous tears after finding out information on family members you never had even heard of.
While doing some online research of the history of my father’s family that I knew little about, I followed the birth and marriage certificates back to my Great Grandmother, and while looking for more info, came across her death certificate. When I discovered the document and read of her death, of a now easily curable ailment, I found myself brought to tears for a woman who had no part of my life up to that point. It was like someone just told me of the death of a relative I had always known. It’s funny how we can react to new information. Information is powerful, stories are powerful, they can touch the heart in a way that transcends a current reality.
Here is my request.
Kind of like what my brother Widows Son did with his "We all shine on" but different.
I want the stories of my Masonic Brothers from Prince Hall Freemasonry. Stories like my "Why I Knocked" story. I want to hear why you joined, what you get out of it, and why you think Freemasonry is important to you. I think, that I now have more Prince Hall Brothers reading my blog, and I want to take the opportunity to further the cause to which I espoused myself to’ from my earliest day as a Freemason, to my "Chance Inspiration" post.
Send them to me at thenortheasterncorner@gmail.com and if you wish, I will share them. If you do not want it to be shared, I want them for my own personal reading pleasure and life journey.
Stories are powerful.
My hope is the stories of your Masonic journey shared with the "mainstream" Masons can further show how there is no difference between us and break the lingering barriers to true brotherhood.
There is much work to be done. I hope you can help.


On a lighter note, on my recent travels, while using my "Square and Compasses Radar" while traversing down and up I-95, I can say with out a doubt that every time I saw a S&C emblem on a car it was driven by a Prince Hall Brother and that makes me jealous. Either no "mainstream" Masons were on the road or Prince Hall Brothers show their pride more!

Chance Inspiration

It was your run of the mill Sunday.
Got up from bed, had breakfast, and read the paper. Then church, lunch, and I brought my girls for a visit with their grandparents. The visit to my parents tied in with the need for my wife and I to go to a visitation, or wake, of her co-workers brother who had died of an early heart attack.
We dropped off the girls and plugged into our GPS the address of the Baptist Church in Yonkers, New York and were on our way.
The drive wasn't too bad at all and before we knew it we were being guided by satellite through the confusing streets of Yonkers. I never saw the movie "Lost in Yonkers" but I can certainly relate to the title because of the many times I found myself lost in that city, though not anymore due to the miracle of modern science and cheaper electronics. As we made our way through the city, we crested a hill and went down a street that over looked the Hudson River, the view was beautiful. As we approached the church we were forced to take a few laps through the surrounding streets because there were cars parked everywhere. On our second turn around the block I started to notice some Square and Compasses emblems on some of the cars, nothing new because since I have joined the craft, I have kind of a S&C radar for car bumpers and am always on the lookout for a Brother. The strange thing was how many I was noticing as we looked for a spot to park our car on the overcrowded city streets. I asked my wife if her co-workers brother was a Mason, to which she replied that she did not know.
We finally found a spot and proceeded to the church. It was a beautiful stone church on the hill overlooking the Hudson and when we entered its packed interior it became clearer that he was indeed, a brother Mason as I saw someone holding a white apron in the entry hall where the visitors book was. Not only was he a Mason, it turned out that he was a Past Master of his Prince Hall lodge as his body, the vehicle that held his soul, was adorned with the apron of a Past Master. The visit all of a sudden turned from supporting one of my wife's friends,to saying goodbye to a brother I never knew.
After giving his family our most sincere condolences we sat down in the back of the church to pray. As we sat down I noticed about 60-75 women in front of us wearing black hats that looked like fezzes. They were all dressed in black with long stemmed red roses pinned to their left lapels. Although they wore no pins or had any adornment on their hats I assumed they were a Masonic order. When my wife asked, I said that they were either Order of The Eastern Star or Daughters of the Nile, of which the former turned out to be true.
After noticing a man with a Marshall's baton, in white gloves and apron in the back door I whispered to my wife that she was about to see her first Masonic memorial service. It was exciting for me also, because I had never seen a Masonic memorial outside of my jurisdiction, let alone a Prince Hall one.
Behind the Marshall I saw the familiar staffs of the Junior and Senior Deacons carried by their respective officers and behind them was a man in a Derby hat, who had to be the Worshipful Master. The usual retinue of about 9 or so brothers marched in with him, nothing special, it was what happened next that amazed me. After setting up the officers at the front of the church the Marshall proceeded to the back of the church and led in what had to be 100 brothers dressed in black suits , white gloves and aprons, and that number is on the conservative side. They stood along both sides of the church and in rows at the back because of their great number and this was not a small church. Next came some brothers in familiar red trimmed Royal Arch aprons, but they wore hats that I had never seen before, they began the memorial with an address from their Chapter and gave his family a scroll with his achievements on it.
Next came the Masonic memorial delivered by the W.M., from memory, which was quite impressive as it was much longer than the standard service that we use in Connecticut. I cant recall all of the details, but it had many parts just like the service I have performed before, but with singing (we need to sing more!) and some preaching mixed in. It is hard to describe the feeling of being surrounded by over one hundred Brothers in Masonic regalia singing together and all at once producing a sprig of evergreen for their fallen brother. After commending his spirit to god who gave it, the assembled brethren deposited, one by one, their evergreens upon their brother craftsman who had been called to the celestial lodge. After the Brethren all proceeded out in procession, the Matron of the Eastern Star Chapter gathered the roses from the Sisters and gave them to the family and then they too proceeded out.
He was not a Grand Master, or some high ranking member of the order, just a Past Master of his lodge and there were more Masons assembled to dignify the passing of their Brother than I have seen at the largest gathering of Connecticut Masons I have yet been to.
It was at once extremely moving and embarrassing at the same time because of how hard it seems to pull my brethren from their lives to perform any Masonic deed. It was a look back for me into how it must have been to be a Mason in my own city 50 years ago when the craft was thriving. During the ceremony I could not help myself from joining the "So Mote It Be's" and doing the hand motions of the memorial. I even found my self putting my right hand to my heart in the sign of fidelity every time the W.M. removed his hat. I wish that I had an apron to wear because, if I could have, I would have proudly been a part of the final act of brotherhood to a man I did not even know. He must have been a truly great man because at the young age of 46 he had so many people paying respects to him, or perhaps the Brotherhood in his lodge is stronger.
I have read and heard how most Prince Hall Lodges would put the "mainstream" lodges to shame with their true devotion to the craft and its principles and flawless ritual. I have now seen it with my own eyes, Prince Hall Freemasonry is every bit the same craft as I practice and more. The supreme travesty of our time is that there are still Grand Lodges in our Nation that do not recognize these men as Brothers.
I left that memorial prouder than I ever have to be a Mason. The love for their brother and dedication to the craft that they showed had me wishing that they all knew that I was one of them. I am ashamed that some other so called Brothers would not think the same. We should stop the injustice that is a disgrace to the craft and everyone of us so called "mainstream" Masons. We, as a fraternity should do everything in our collective power to change the minds of the Grand Lodges that do not recognise our brethren. We should do it, not because it will be hard, but because until every man that lives up to the high honor and privilege that is being a Freemason, is recognised as a brother by us all, we ourselves fall short of the title.
There is much work to be done...
Was it by chance that I was there, or as I am now seeing more and more clearly, that in a life lived truly there are no chance happenings.