Corky

Hey, we missed you at the Lodge meeting Brother Bell.
I was out in the country and attended the meeting there.
"Well, you really missed one here, the banquet was swell,
the lodge room had cut flowers and decorated with care.

Wouldn't those ol' country boys have really had a treat,
if they could see a big blow-out like ours was last night?
Yes, I guess they would, their Lodge was plain but neat,
but they made me open my eyes at their meeting all right.

Their Lodge is in the schoolhouse. A two story building,
erected by the Masonic Lodge, oh so many years before.
It's provided rent free to the school board for schooling.
The Lodge Room's up the outside stair to the upper floor.

I was told about the meeting and said I'd like to attend.
The Master took me to the butcher and I shook his hand.
The butcher called up nine others to examine me no end.
Those ten me ask questions, then answers they'd demand.

They made an event of the examination and it was tough.
They ask me from how many wives King Solomon had,
and where the Master hung his hat. It was really rough.
In which hand does the Master carry the lantern, lad?

They enjoyed themselves a lot for three hours or more.
From the moment that it ended, my status had a change.
I was treated like a prince. Welcomed at anyone's door.
Now they knew I was a Brother. I was no longer strange.

Next day, the farmers commenced coming in at daylight.
By eleven the rail fence behind the court house was full,
of gray mares with colts close by. Farmers, faces bright,
in their Sunday clothes stood around shooting the bull.

Whittling on sticks and talking 'Masonry on the square.
The most important occasion of the day come about noon.
Dinner was served by the wives, in the room up the stair.
I expected a luncheon, but it was a feast, we found soon!

Whole hams, whole turkeys with the stuffing sticking out.
and right in front of me with an apple stuck in its jaw,
a whole roasted pig, gallons of gravy and even sauerkraut
The tables had to stand cross-legged as we all soon saw,

To keep from falling down with the load that they held.
Soon a little child gathered buttons scattered like seed
under the table and the wives honor was upheld.
Well, I won't make you hungry telling about the feed.

Enough to say that we ate and talked until four o'clock.
I never had such a time in my life. They made me speak
and I told all the stopies that I had heard in Little Rock
this winter till the Master had laughted until he was weak.

The women cleared up the place and we men went out.
We sat on the fence till six and smoked pipe and cheroot.
The Lodge meeting opened at six o'clock or thereabout.
The Master wore a slouch hat, there was not even a suit.

The Senior Warden had his hound sitting by his chair,
but, I've never seen a more beautiful Masonic opening,
or a better rendered master's degree. It was with a flair.
The degree had finished and the lecture was inspiring.

I thought the work was over, but then I saw t'wasn't all.
The Master finished all the work in the ritual, then said,
Jim, you are now a Mason. I fear it'll be years fore y'all
will really know what that means, but that's all ahead.

There isn't a man in this room, that hasn't watched you,
As you grew from a little shaver in a diapers to a man.
And every one of us watched you all through school too.
Through life, you knew you had no father, so we began.

Your father belonged to this lodge and sat in every chair.
Although you hardly remember him, every man present,
followed him to his grave and every one of us will share,
his life was spotless and square as a man's life was spent.

Jim, while we don't know much about heaven, our souls
cry out the truthfulness of the life to come, and we know
that in that great beyond your father name is on the rolls
looking down this minute and is glad and he has a glow.

Watch your career as a man and Mason. Be confident,
and hope. He and we will watch you from now on, Jim.
He knew when you got into the habit of playing ten-cent
limit with the bunch down at the hotel and it hurt him.

In your future, Jim, try to remember he's looking down
and when there comes up a question of right and wrong
try to think what he would do, without even a frown.
Remember, now you take the honor of our old lodge along.

The lodge where your father was Master and loved it so.
You are a man now Jim, but when you were a little one,
your daddy would take you in his arms and speaking low,
pray God would guide you in the path that you his son,

has started in tonight and partly for your daddy's sake,
partly for this old lodge, partly for our God's delight.
but mostly for your own sake, Jim. I beg you never take
a step that'll make us regret what we have done tonight.

Jim was in tears and I will admit that I was sniffing too
when that old man got through. And, I didn't even recall,
that he wasn't wearing a top hat or a tuxedo, all I did do,
was become aware, that as a true Mason he stood tall

John F. Kennedy

The official website of The White House describes President Harding as a "leader in fraternal organizations". Harding was a "joiner" of most of the Lodges and fraternal orders of the day. Specifically, he was initiated an Entered Apprentice on June 28, 1901 ...then, a rival newspaperman in Marion Ohio blocked Harding's advancement to the Fellow Craft Degree until the year he was elected President of the United States. (Harding was Raised to the Sublime Degree of a Master Mason on August 27, 1920. In 1921, he became a Knight Templar in Marion Commandery No.36, a 32nd degree in the Ancient & Accepted Scottish Rite of Columbus, Ohio. Harding became the first U.S. President to become a member of The Shrine (Aladdin Shrine in Columbus, 1921; Honorary Member of Almas Shrine in Washington DC in 1921; Honorary Member of the Imperial Council AAONMS in June 1923). Kallipolis Grotto in Washington DC made him a "Prophet at Sight" at the White House, May 11, 1921. Warren Harding was also a member of Washington Chapter No.3 of National Sojourners. He was scheduled to receive the degrees of Cryptic Masonry in Marion Council No 22 R&SM, but died before the conferral. This was also the case of Harding being elected to receive the 33° of The Supreme Council of the Scottish Rite of the Northern Jurisdiction of the USA, but died before he could attend its conferral. In addition, Harding was also a member of the Elks Lodge # 32 of Marion, OH, and the Knights of Pythias Lodge.

At a cornerstone laying in Birmingham, Alabama, Harding said, "I have been a better citizen for being a Mason. There Iis nothing in Masonry that a free, religious, and just American could not be proud to subscribe to, and be a better citizen for so doing."

Warren G. Harding

The White House website lists the 'memorable injunction' of President John F. Kennedy at his Inaugural Address: "Ask not what your country can do for you --- Ask what you can do for your country."In his 1916 speech, President Harding said, "In the great fulfillment, we must have a citizenship less concerned about what the government can do for it, and more anxious about what it can do for the nation."

President John F. Kennedy on his 21st birthday joined the Elks Lodge and was a member of Boston, MA #10 at the time of his death November 22, 1963. Since both Harding and Kennedy were "Lodge men" in the Elks Lodge....both had experienced a "can do" spirit. And, I feel that the common link in both of their appeals is the patriotic spirit of selflessness instead of selfishness. Both men would urge us today ask ourselves how we can help our neighbor...Ask how we can help our communities...and how we can help the world at-large.

In July, 1923, President Warren G. Harding officiated at the Laying of the cornerstone of the Masonic Hall in Ketchikan, Alaska. On August 2, 1923 he was scheduled to give an address to Hollywood Commandery No.56, K.T., Hollywood, Calif., on the occasion of his home Commandery delivering to them the International Traveling Beauceant, the night of August 2, 1923.

His delegation made it back to San Francisco, California, but Harding was unable to give the speech (which was delivered by Harding's secretary Sir Knight George B. Christian at the Knights Templar gathering). At approximately the same hour as that event, 7:30 pm, August 2, 1923, Harding died from a stroke.

When John F. Kennedy delivered his "Ask not..." speech in 1961, it was some 45 years after Harding had delivered his own slightly different version in 1916. I find it striking that I am writing this Article in 2006, which is precisely another interval of exactly 45 years.

As Freemasons, we are accustomed to re-working a rough ashlar to make it a more perfect ashlar, fit for the builder's use. As Rosicrucians, we are accustomed to the ongoing refinement of certain materials and substances to increase their worth or value. President Harding's rough original draft was the "seed" which grew and was later polished, revised, and refined to form the final draft of President Kennedy's speech.

If I were to paraphrase both men, I think I'd say something to the effect, "Let us, as citizens, reduce our rhetoric of complaining about what is wrong with the country, and set out to increase what we can do (and WILL do) to help our neighbors."

Let us honor the memory of Presidents Harding and Kennedy. It is significant that the "Ask not" speech tells us to focus on those things we can do. By helping our neighbors, we are helping ourselves.

While McMurtry states that McCrae and Call were not modeled after historical characters, there are quite a few similarities between them and real-life Texas cattlemen Oliver Loving and Charles Goodnight. For example, Goodnight was a Texas Ranger, and there are several close parallels between the fictional partners of McCrae and Call, and the real-life partners of Loving and Goodnight. But the most striking similarity is the death and burial of the fictional Gus, and the actual last days of Oliver Loving. Both died on a cattle drive from gangrene brought on by a wound inflicted by an Indian. Before they died, both requested of their best friend to be buried in Texas, and both Goodnight and Call made good on a difficult promise to return their bodies to their home, Texas.

Oliver Loving (December 4, 1812 – September 25, 1867) was born in Hopkins County, Kentucky. When he was a boy, his family moved to Muhlenburg County where he farmed until he, his brother, and his brother-in-law moved their families to the Republic of Texas. In Texas, Loving received 639.3 acres of land in three patents spread through Collin, Dallas, and Parker county.

By 1857, Loving owned 1,000 acres of land and was raising cattle. The need for cattle was elsewhere, so to market his large herd, Loving drove them out of Texas. In that same year he entrusted his nineteen-year-old son, William, to drive his and his neighbors' cattle to Illinois up the Shawnee Trail. The drives made a profit of $36 per head and encouraged Loving to repeat the trek the next year.

In 1866 Loving heard about the need for cattle at Fort Sumner, New Mexico, Loving gathered a herd of cattle and combined it with that of Charles Goodnight. Together they began a long drive to the fort. Their route later became known as the Goodnight-Loving Trail, and the project proved very profitable to them.

In the spring of 1867, Loving and Goodnight started a new cattle drive, again to Ft. Sumner. This drive was “snake bit” from the start; it was slowed by days of heavy rains, and threats from Indians all along the way kept the cattlemen on constant guard. Several days out of Ft. Sumner, Loving went ahead of the herd, taking with him Bill Wilson, a trusted scout. Although he told Goodnight that he would travel only at night through Indian country, Loving became impatient and pushed ahead during the day. His actions brought a Comanche attack, and during the first few minutes of the attack, Loving was seriously wounded.

Loving and Wilson took refuge under a small dirt embankment, and killed several Indians who tried to charge their location. Understanding that their best chance for survival was for one of them to get help, Loving sent Wilson back to the herd for the others. Loving spent the next several days fighting off Indian attacks with a repeating rifle and five pistols. Hungry, almost out of ammo, and facing exhaustion from loss of blood,

Loving decided to come out and take his chances. He found that the Indians had moved on, either giving up on him, or thinking he was dead. He started walking, and was found by a Mexican family and taken to Fort Sumner. The doctor at Ft. Sumner was inexperienced, and although the wound to Loving's arm was infected, he chose not to amputate until it was too late. Gangrene set in and Loving was dying.