Showing posts with label Halloween. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Halloween. Show all posts

The Lodge on the Hill

by Midnight Freemason Contributor
WB Darin A. Lahners


Editor's Note: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Reginald carefully walked up the steps of the dilapidated Masonic Lodge on the hill in the middle of town. His grandfather had raised him after his parents had been killed in a car accident when he was a child. Although his grandfather was a Mason, he remembered that the only other time he had been in the building was for his grandfather’s installation ceremony. That must have been close to forty years ago, he reminisced. He returned to his hometown after the passing of his grandfather, Lucian. He had died a few months ago, ironically enough in a car accident. Reginald had returned to his hometown to settle his affairs.  As he reached the top of the stairs, he was greeted by his grandfather’s best friend, Abraham.

“Reginald, it overjoys my heart to have you join our ancient craft. Your grandfather would be so proud if he were still alive.”   Abraham exclaimed while extending his hand to Reginald. “Thank You, Abraham.” Reginald stated excitedly while shaking Abraham’s hand. “Let’s introduce to the others, shall we?” Abraham said, he smiled and led Reginald across the hall to the dining room. Reginald was shocked at how little had changed since he was last in the building. The dining room looked pretty much the same.

“Reginald, I’d like to introduce you to our Worshipful Master, Romero, and his brothers, who are the Senior and Junior Wardens here.”  Abraham said. Romero wasn’t quite what Reginald expected.  Romero looked pale, with long dark hair, a beard, sunken blue eyes, and lips that were a cold blue. Romero extended his hand, which Reginald took. As he began to shake his hand, Reginald couldn’t help but notice that it was cold to the touch.  He wore what appeared to be a vintage white suit coat, with a light blue shirt, an orange Hermes ascot tie, blue pants and brown shoes. 

Abraham also introduced his brothers, a pair of identical twins, Alexander and Alexi, who wore identical vintage powder blue tuxedo suits, with shirts which were identical to Romero’s, they also had the same long dark hair and beards. Instead of the orange ascot, Alexander and Alexi wore matching white bow ties. The three men appeared to be of middle eastern heritage.  Still shaken by his introduction to Romero, Reginald could only whimper a quiet “Hello” to his twin brothers. He was struck by how tall and large the three of them were. All three of them were built like Offensive Linemen and had to be at least six foot five inches tall, and over 300 pounds.  Solid oaks of men.

Abraham noticed Reginald’s behavior; asking “Is everything okay, Reg?”  Reginald replied, “Yes, everything is fine. I apologize, I’m feeling a bit peckish.” “Let’s get you some food then.” Abraham replied. Abraham approached the buffet, followed by Reginald. “Ah, Prime Rib!” Abraham exclaimed. Reginald looked and saw that it was a little too pink for his tastes, but he was starving, so he cut himself a couple of slices, grabbed some mashed potatoes, green beans, and the apple cobbler for dessert. He was pleased they had horseradish for the prime rib, heaping it on top of the au-jus-soaked meat.

Reginald sat down, cut into the prime rib, and began to devour it. He looked around and noticed that no one else other than Abraham was eating. “Is it normal for no one to eat before a degree?” Reginald asked. “They’ll all come in to eat in a bit.  They’re busy getting the lodge room ready for your degree.” Abraham replied. “When did you decide you wanted to become a Freemason?” Abraham asked Reginald. “A few years ago, I saw a program on the History Channel, and as I approached my fiftieth birthday, I decided to join. When I came back here for the funeral, it was a no brainer. As you know, my grandfather and I were close, and my one regret is that he won’t be here to see me receive my first degree.  The least I could do is join the lodge that he loved so much.” Reginald replied. “Yes, Lucian would have loved to see this.” Abraham replied. “Come, let’s get you ready.” Abraham said as Reginald finished his last bite of cobbler.

Abraham led Reginald to another room. He gave him an outfit which looked like pajamas. “Put this on.” Abraham said and stepped outside of the room, shutting the door behind him. Reginald took his clothes off, folded them neatly, and put on the outfit. He waited for Abraham to knock, which came a minute or so later. “Ready?” Abraham asked. “Yes.” Reginald replied. “Great, I’m going to blind fold you now.  Then I’ll lead you to another room that we call a Chamber of Reflection.  Once I sit you down in there, you’ll hear me close the door.  You can take your blindfold off as soon as the door is closed. There will be some objects in the room, along with a pencil and a piece of paper. We ask you to reflect upon what you want out of joining the Fraternity, and to write those desires down. We also ask you to write down a bucket list, things that you want to accomplish before your time here on earth is done. We will read the paper at the first meeting after you’re raised, several months from now.  I think that you’ll find that as you go through your degrees, you’ll find that these things will seem insignificant, both in terms of what you want from the fraternity and in terms of what you place importance on in your bucket list.” Abraham stated. He then closed the door.

Hearing the door close, Reginald took off his blindfold. He was seated at a desk, with a single black candle illuminating the small room. There was a mirror and skull sitting on the desk, along with the pencil, bread, water, and piece of paper. He looked around the room, seeing images of an hourglass, a cockerel, the initials V.I.T.I.R.I.O.L., salt, sulfur and mercury, and a scythe. He also noticed what appeared to be an older black and white photograph that appeared to have fallen on the floor in the right rear corner of the room.  It was stuck partially between the floor molding and the floorboards. Reginald got up from his seat and bent over to pick up the photograph.

He was shocked at what he saw. His grandfather and Abraham were young men, Reginald estimated, that they must both be in their twenties; but Romero, Alexander and Alexi looked the same. He wondered how this could be. His mind was racing. It didn’t make sense he thought; surely it was some trick, some ruse, some form of psychological hazing.  They must be photoshopped. They’re trying to take the piss out of me. It’s the only explanation that makes sense Reginald thought. 

He tried to focus on writing what Abraham had asked of him. Yet he found himself staring at the photograph. He thought he heard a jingle of keys or coins outside the door, which snapped him out the semi-hypnotic trance he had almost put himself in concentrating on the photograph. It was then that it dawned on him. The memories came flooding back, as if the metallic jingling had awoken something he had long buried deep inside of him. He had the unsettling realization that the picture was genuine. He remembered that he had met Romero, Alexander and Alexi before.

It was the last time he was in the Masonic Temple before tonight, some forty years prior, at his grandfather’s installation as Worshipful Master. He had been wandering the Temple building prior to the event. He remembered that his grandfather had forbidden him to go into one room. He told him, directly, that the room was off limits to visitors. Being a young man, aged ten at that time, he was naturally inquisitive. While his grandfather and the other lodge members were distracted; he entered the room. He was surprised to find the three brothers, and he remembered. He remembered that is where he had met Romero, Alexander, and Alexi for the first time. Each of them was hunched over and Reginald remembered that they were feasting on a human corpse. He remembered screaming and running from the room. The next thing he remembered was being in the dining room, eating a piece of chocolate cake. He had no recollection of the room and what he had witnessed until this very moment, some forty years later.

Reginald felt like he was going mad. He tried the door handle to exit the Chamber of Reflection. It was locked. He began to panic. He banged on the door with reckless abandon. His fists pounded against the wood, shaking the door. He screamed: “Let me out of here!” He picked up the wooden chair he had been sitting on, and with all his might, swung it towards the door. The chair disintegrated against the door, splintering into several sharp pieces. It seemed as if the walls were closing in on him. He suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe, taking long gulps of air, trying to keep himself from hyperventilating.  He heard the metallic jingling sound again. He grabbed the sharpest piece of the splintered chair and placed it on the desk, not having any pockets in his candidate’s outfit, he put the photograph in the waistband of his underwear. He then grabbed the splintered piece of chair, using it almost like a baseball bat to knock loudly against the door.  He continued his screams, demanding to be let out of the room.

He heard a knock, and then a whisper. It was Abraham. “For God’s sake Reginald, calm down!”  Reginald curtly replied to Abraham. “Abraham, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’ve had a change of heart.  This isn’t what I thought I was getting into.  Let me out of here at once!”  “I’m afraid that I can’t do that Reginald. You’re just going to have to sit tight and please be quiet.”  Abraham responded. “I remember everything, Abraham. I remember the body, and I have this picture I found. You and Grandfather as young men, along with Romero, Alexander, and Alexi, who look the same as today, and the same as the day I discovered their resting place. I remember screaming, and then being in the dining room, eating chocolate cake. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I don’t want any part of this!” Reginald screamed.

“Lucien always feared this day would come. I told him that the hypnosis was a temporary Band-Aid for your trauma. He felt that you’d think that it was a nightmare or write it off as such.  I promised him that I’d look after you.  That’s what I intend to do.  But you must do exactly what I say, when I say it. I can’t have you questioning anything I tell you to do.  Now, you must be quiet and follow directions, no matter how absurd they might seem. Is that clear?”  Abraham stated calmly and quietly. “Yes, just let me out this room.” Reginald replied. “Good. I’m going to open the door now.” Abraham said. Reginald had no intention of obeying Abraham. He knew as soon as that door was opened that he was going to run out of the building and go directly to the police. He didn’t care about his clothes, his wallet, his phone.  He would explain that he had been held against his will and ask them to retrieve his items for him. He would present the photo as evidence of the strangeness he had uncovered.

The door began to open, and Reginald threw himself towards the door, attempting to force it wide open. The force of his full weight knocked Abraham’s slender frame back and Reginald fell right on top of him. Before Abraham could gather himself, Reginald was up on his feet, running down the hall, trying to remember if this was the right way so that he could escape the building.  He heard a gunshot behind him, and a piece of wood from the doorframe on his right-side splintered when the bullet impacted into it. Reginald’s heart felt as if it might leap from his chest. He had never felt such panic in his life. Time seemed to slow down for him. He then saw Romero was in front of him charging directly towards him, sword in hand. Instinctively, Reginald dropped and slid towards Romero, his heels up, much like he was taught how to slide into second base as a little league baseball player. Another gunshot echoed behind him, and he saw the sword fall from Romero’s hand, as the bullet impacted Romero’s torso.

“Dammit Reg, I’m trying to help you! Grab the sword and cut off his head before he comes to!” Abraham yelled as he ran up the hall towards Reginald. “Cut off his head? Are you mad?” Reginald replied. “Yes, cut off his head and hurry. He will not spare us when he awakens, and the other two are most likely close by.”  Abraham barked at Reginald. Reginald picked the sword up from the floor, and stood over Romero, getting ready to swing with all the force he could muster. He swung once, and then twice. The sword was dull, barely cutting into Romero’s neck. Reginald kept swinging it. Finally, he felt the sword reverberate in his hand. Sure enough, it had gotten stuck while trying to sever Romero’s head from his body. Reginald yanked on it. Romero’s eyes opened wide, sheer terror across his face. “Nooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Romero screamed, as his head fell off his body. “I’ll kill you for thisssss!!!!!!” Romero hissed. Reginald was shocked to see that his eyes were wide open along with his mouth, and that somehow, he was still able to speak although his head was severed from his body. Without thinking, Reginald kicked Romero’s head down the hall, just as Abraham had finally reached him. Romero cackled as it rolled. “Kill you!!!!!!!” He kept repeating as it rolled end over end down the hall, it hit the far wall and tumbled a bit more before resting on its left side.

“Where are the other two?” Reginald asked Abraham. “They must be in the lodge room.” Abraham replied. “What’s going on here Abraham?” Reginald demanded. “No time for an explanation now, Reg. We’ve got to stop the others, and I’ll tell you everything that you want to know.” Abraham answered. “Follow me!”  “We need to get out of here Abraham! Let’s get the police and they can handle this.” Reginald replied. “Reginald, you have no idea of the powers that we’re dealing with here! You have seen that Romero is able to speak and curse you although his head is separated from his body, do you think the Police are going to be able to stop the others? We don’t have time.  We must end the others before they summon him.” Abraham stated.

“Summon who?” Reginald asked. “Cain!” Abraham emphasized. “They are going to summon Cain. You were meant as a sacrifice. They want to bring him forth from the land of Nod. Now break that glass and grab the fire axe. We’re going to have to break the door down.  As soon as I discovered their plan, I came here to rescue you.”  Reginald did what Abraham instructed. Sure enough, upon checking, the double doors leading into the lodge room were locked. He made his way into the preparation room, but found the door which separated the preparation room from the lodge room was locked as well. There was a faint chanting coming through the door, and an unholy red light creeped into the preparation room from beneath the door and through the old keyhole. Abraham yelled: “Quickly Reginald! We must stop them! Use the Axe and chop through the door!”

Reginald swung the axe several times, taking large chunks out of the antique wooden door. The unholy red glow enveloped the room with each strike, and he could finally make out the chanting. Reginald knew immediately that they were speaking Latin. “Veni, o Cain, prodi de terra Nod. Veni in conspectum nostrum, pone vindictam tuam super JEHOVAM. Nomen eius maledicimus, tuum veneramur. Infernum erumpere in terra. Deduc nos, et viventibus epulabimur, et ex ossibus eorum medullas suges. Tenebrae cadunt. Tenebrae praeessent. Gaudeamus in sanguine inimicorum nostrorum Seth fratris tui. O Cain filius satanae, te rogamus. Veni in mundum. Vincamus nos de viribus Boni. In novum mundum inducas nos ordinem. Ad victoriam nostram perduc nos. Prope est.” The men repeated over and over. Abraham stood behind Reginald, his pistol at the ready.

Soon the door split from the frame. Reginald could not believe his eyes. A circle of twelve men wearing black hooded robes stood around the altar. The men held hands while chanting. A book which looked to be bound with Human Flesh sat open upon the altar. Three tall black burning tapers were positioned around the altar. One on the far-left side away from Reginald, and the other two on the left and right side of the altar parallel to the side closest to him. They formed a right triangle. A pulsating red glow was being emitted from a portal suspended in mid-air, right above the men and the altar.

Reginald jumped as a gunshot rang out extremely near to him. This startled him. He saw one of the men drop to the ground. As soon as this happened, the chanting stopped, and the portal disappeared, taking the unholy red glow with it. He heard a rapid series of gunshots follow the initial one, and more men fell where they stood. He then heard a muffled series of clicking and felt liquid come out from his left ear. Touching his left hand to his left ear, he saw that it was blood. His ears rang. He saw only one man remained standing, and he was soon charging directly towards Reginald and Abraham.

“You’ll pay for that!  I will paint these walls with your blood!” the man yelled. Reginald stood tall, raising his axe, and prepared to swing it in self-defense. He noticed that the hood had fallen off the man. He saw that it was either Alexi or Alexander coming directly towards him in a beeline. As they were identical, he was unsure of which twin it was. As he got closer, he noticed the stiletto in his left hand. Suddenly and unexpectedly, he felt Abraham brush his right arm as he passed by him. Abraham was charging directly towards the twin to meet him. Before he could issue a warning, the twin grabbed hold of Abraham with his right hand, lifting the frail old man from the ground. He raised the dagger in his left hand and plunged it into Abraham’s torso several times. Blood began to pour out of Abraham, staining his white tuxedo shirt, and dripping to the black and white mosaic tile floor of the lodge. The twin then tossed the old man, and he flew a foot or so in the air before hitting the floor.

As this was happening, Reginald threw the axe with all his might towards the twin, remembering how he had thrown one at the axe bar where his company held their last Christmas party. Time seemed to stand still for Reginald as he watched the axe tumble end over end. The twin didn’t realize what had hit him until it was too late.  By this time Reginald had sprung into action, and as the axe impaled itself into the Twin’s torso, Reginald was a few steps away from him. A shocked look was on the twin’s face as he slumped to the ground. Reginald heard the dagger clatter against the tile floor. He stood over the twin and extracted the axe from the twin’s chest.

He ran to Abraham. Abraham was pale but had managed to sit himself up against a wall. Reginald saw that he was coughing up blood. He gurgled to Reginald. “You must cut their heads off and burn down the lodge. Our ashes must be spread by winds, so that there is no remembrance of any of us, or what happened today. A journal, which is on my nightstand, will explain everything. It’s written in a pigpen cypher.  There is a key under the front mat of my apartment. You remember where I live?”  Reginald nodded yes. “Good. Good.” Abraham said. He smiled at Reginald and expired, drawing a raspy last breath.

Reginald then got to work on his grisly task. He had just finished cutting the head off the last robed man when he heard a skittering noise. Romero’s adult head was being held aloft by a small torso, two small arms pulling it along the floor, his organs were being dragged behind him, as the creature had no legs. “Killlllll Youuuuu….” It hissed over and over, as Romero dragged himself towards Reginald. After all the high strangeness that Reginald had experienced that evening, he wasn’t at all shocked at the sight he had beheld.  He calmly raised the axe once again and removed Romero’s head from its small torso. It continued to hiss at him.

Reginald carefully arranged the bodies into a pile near the altar. He went into the preparation room and changed back into his clothing. He tore down the curtains from the lodge room windows and threw them into the pile. He then kicked over one of the long black tapers which were still burning. The candle ignited the curtains, which in turn started to ignite the bodies. Reginald quickly ran down the stairs, and he exited the lodge building before the smoke and flames could overwhelm him.

He ran down the hill, finding his car which he had parked on a side street and started it. He drove immediately to Abraham’s apartment. Finding the key under the front mat as Abraham had told him. He unlocked the apartment door. He flipped on the light switch right next to door, which illuminated the hallway leading back into the apartment. He reached the living room, and turned on a lamp, and soon discovered Abraham’s bedroom. He saw a withered old leather-bound journal sitting on the nightstand next to Abraham’s bed, a skull with a crown was on the front cover in the lower right-hand side.

Reginald grabbed the journal and fled the apartment. He got into his car and drove home. He parked his car in the garage, entered his grandfather’s home, and turned on the television. He sat down at his dining room table, which occupied the space next to his living room. He opened the journal and began to decrypt the Masonic Pigpen cypher with a key he had found on the internet. The strange, angled markings, some with dots, some without, soon began to reveal themselves to him. What he read as he decrypted the journal bewildered him. Reginald was surprised to learn that what he was reading was in fact his grandfather’s journal.

The journal read: 

At the time of the building of King Solomon’s temple, the beautiful queen of Sheba had come to Jerusalem to visit him. She was intrigued by the tales of his riches and wisdom. While out for a walk one day, she came upon Hiram Abiff, who was the chief architect of the Temple. She was immediately taken in by his looks and charm. The Queen and Hiram began spending time together. Solomon desired the Queen, and his jealousy and lust for her flesh clouded his judgement. He began to hatch a plot.   

Solomon learned that there were three brothers named Jubela, Jubelo and Jubelum who desired to learn the secrets of the Master Mason or the Master’s word. He struck a deal with them and communicated it to them in exchange for them eliminating Hiram. They would murder Hiram and board transport to Ethiopia to flee the country.

Solomon had underestimated how beloved Hiram Abiff was by the builders of the Temple. Because of the outcry of the workers at Hiram’s disappearance and not wanting to have a revolt on his hands should his role in the murder be discovered, Solomon ordered the assassins hunted down and executed. He also put an embargo on all sea travel; only allowing those who had his pass to travel by sea. The brothers discovered that Solomon had double crossed them when they attempted to book a passage to Ethiopia, needing King Solomon’s pass and not having it. They turned back to the country, to hide themselves and preserve their lives as long as they could.

While they were secreting themselves in a cave, they found themselves with little food left. Near starvation, they discovered some mushrooms inside of the cave and made broth from them. The brothers had a vision of Cain, who explained he was the progenitor of their race. He prophesied their capture and execution. He gave them a choice, in exchange for their servitude, he would grant them everlasting life. The brothers, desperate to keep themselves alive, hastily agreed to the conditions. In doing so, Cain had granted each of them his mark, a small red triangle on the back of their head. Cain ordered them to recruit as many followers as they could to worship him, stating that when the time was right, he would return to Earth to unleash Hell in order to punish Jehovah for sending him to the land of Nod.       

The brothers were captured, and Solomon ordered them executed. However, the brothers were resurrected after fifteen days, just as Cain had promised. They fled Jerusalem and made their way to Egypt, finding work as stone masons having been taught the Mason’s word by Solomon himself. They would continue to earn a living as such, travelling the world, building great edifices of stone; never staying in one place for too long. That is until about the mid 17th Century, as the operative Stone Mason guilds began to transition to Speculative Freemasonry.

As the Stone Masonry work dried up, the brothers understood that the secrecy of the Masonic Lodge would be the only thing that could protect them going forward. They moved from town to town, eventually migrating from England and settling in this corner of the Northeastern United States.

The brothers came to town, and offered money to Reginald’s grandfather, Lucian, and Abraham in exchange for allowing the brothers to live in the Masonic Temple. After proving themselves as fellow Masons, Lucian and Abraham agreed to the arrangement. The only caveat was that no one would be allowed into their living quarters. The brothers proved to be good members and brothers until the day on which Reginald had discovered their terrible secret. To keep them from killing Reginald, Lucian and Abraham agreed to keep the brothers secret and to bring them fresh corpses which they could eat. Abraham, being a psychiatrist, was able to hypnotize Reginald so that he would not remember the incident with the brothers.

Since the day in which Lucian agreed to keep the brothers secret, he began to research who the brothers might be and how to kill them. Naturally, he became fascinated with the occult. After years of research, Lucian believed that he had learned the identity of the brothers and became convinced that if the mark of Cain could be destroyed, that the brother’s immortality would be taken from them. The only way that he knew to do this would be by severing their heads from their bodies and burning the mark away. He relayed all the information to Abraham.

Eventually once Reginald had grown up and moved away from home, and Lucian felt he were safe, he told Abraham that he planned to kill the ghoulish brothers. He knew that he was doing so at significant risk to himself, so he made Abraham promise to protect his grandson, the only family he had left should he fail.

At this point, Reginald noticed that the writing in the journal changed, and he came to understand that the subsequent entries were those of Abraham. He learned that

Abraham watched as the brothers tore the limbs from his body and feasted on Lucian’s corpse. The brothers then put the body into the car and staged the car accident, burning the body alive to cover the crime. Abraham was an old man at this point but knew that he might be able to defeat the brothers with Reginald’s help. When Reginald came back to town for the funeral and inquired about joining the lodge, Abraham felt that he should put his plan into motion. He began to conspire with the brothers to help them make Reginald a sacrifice to their god, and to help them summon him from the land of Nod. They had planned to have the ceremony the evening of Reginald’s first degree. When Abraham brought Reginald into the lodge room, Cain would be there and would take Reginald as prey.

Abraham wrote that he would have go along with the plan to sacrifice Reginald until the very last moment. The last entry in the journal was dated yesterday. It simply said: Tell Reginald the truth before we reach the lodge room. As he shut the journal, he realized that the local news was on the television. They were talking about the fire at the old Masonic Lodge on the Hill. Listening intently, he heard Romero’s unmistakably hiss “Killlllll Youuuuu….” The hiss had come from behind him.

 ~DAL

WB Darin A. Lahners is our Managing Editor. He is a host and producer of the "Meet, Act and Part" podcast as well as a co-host of an all-things-paranormal podcast, "Beyond the 4th Veil." He is currently serving the Grand Lodge of Illinois Ancient Free and Accepted Masons as a member of the Committee on Masonic Education He is a Past Master of St. Joseph Lodge No.970 in St. Joseph. He is also a plural member of Homer Lodge No. 199 (IL), where he is also a Past Master. He’s also a member of the Scottish Rite Valley of Danville, a charter member of Illinois Royal Arch Chapter, Admiration Chapter No. 282, Salt Fork Shrine Club under the Ansar Shrine, and a grade one (Zelator) in the S.C.R.I.F. Prairieland College in Illinois. He is also a Fellow of the Illinois Lodge of Research. He was presented with the Torok Award from the Illinois Lodge of Research in 2021. You can reach him by email at darin.lahners@gmail.com.

The Magick of King Solomon

by Midnight Freemason Contributor
Bro. James E. Frey 32°


King Solomon before the Djinn by Jacobus de Teramo, 1473

"I pray thee, O king. Listen to what has befallen all that thy child hath. After we are all released from our work on the Temple of God, after sunset, when I lie down to rest, one of the evil demons comes and takes away from me one half of my pay and one half of my food. Then he also takes hold of my right hand and sucks my thumb. And lo, my soul is oppressed, and so my body waxes thinner every day." (Testament of Solomon, v4)

My Brethren, one tenant of the Masonic system is the constant reflection of the self. We must re-evaluate who we are morally as well as psychologically. It is this constant progression of self understanding that makes us face our archetypal shadow and conquer the negative aspects of the self. This is best personified by the Archetype of Wisdom in the Masonic system, King Solomon. King Solomon is interesting because his archetypal characteristics are found throughout Mediterranean cultures. According to the Old Testament King Solomon was charged to build the Temple of Solomon and was known as the wisest of all men. In the Islamic tradition Solomon is regarded as a prophet and representative of Allah. But there is a hidden side of King Solomon, a side that has been repressed from the western mythos, just as we hide the darker aspects of ourselves.

In the Christian tradition there is a separate myth that recounts Solomon not only as a wise King, but a very powerful Ceremonial Magician. This tradition is recounted in the 15th century Grimoire the Greater and Lesser Keys of Solomon, and the Testament of Solomon, a Christian text dating to around the 1st and 5th centuries CE. Although the author of these obscure texts is unknown, its legend holds that it was the secret firsthand account of Solomon himself. Solomon’s Testament deals with a variety of astrological and magical themes that even deal with acting as a bridge between Greek Mythology and Christian Theology. The book deals with vast legions of demons, summoning spirits, and magick rings.

The legend begins with a young man who is favored by King Solomon, one day he is attacked by a demon by name of Ornias who used his demonic powers to suck the vitality and life from the Youth’s spirit. Upon hearing this news Solomon summons the archangel Michael through the magickal practice. According to the Lesser Key of Solomon this magickal practice was known as the Almadel, which is how Solomon was said to have received wisdom from the angels. Michael arrives to the troubled King and entrusts him with a magick ring bearing the six pointed star, or seal of Solomon, upon it. With this ring Solomon gained the power to summon demons and sprits using his will to control them and command them to complete tasks.

Solomon then took control over Ornias who then infiltrated the demonic Prince Beelzebul granting Solomon power over the legion of demons. According to the lesser Key of Solmon of the Ars Goetia, there are 72 demons that are paralleled to the fallen angels described in the Book of Enoch who rebelled against God because they lusted after the daughters of man. It is important to note that these fallen angels also first brought sorcery and the magickal arts to the material realm. Beelzebul reveals how he was once a high ranking angel before the fall. It was the four archangels Michael, Raphael, Gabriel and Uriel that descended down with their 72 angels of the Almadel and banished the rebellious demons unto the four watchtowers of the universe.

With King Solomon in full command of the 72 demons he commands them to aid in the construction of the Temple of Solomon. This is where the legend of the Goetia and the Masonic system begin to meet. The Goetia’s connections can be found in various places throughout the Masonic system, but often hidden so that the true initiate sees not the Adept’s design. The Angelic names bore on the cross of the older versions of the 29th degree Knight of St. Andrew are a prime example. There is nowhere else in Kabbalistic or Magickal lore are these Angelic names referred to, except the Greater Key of Solomon as the last pentacle of the Sun. But these angels are referred to in Phoenician legend, so it seems to understand the importance of the Testament of Solomon we must look at it from the theological perspective of the time. This book acts as a way to reinterpret Pagan Gods of various cultures and rework them into the roles of demons. I believe King Solomon was chosen by Christians as the Master Magician because of his close association with the worship of Pagan gods to please his many foreign wives. 

Solomon’s Magick Circle, Lesser Key of Solomon
According too Talmudic texts and the Book of Tolbit King Solomon soon was placed face to face with the king of demons Asmodeus. Asmodeus is known for tricking King Solomon into gaining his ring of power that he then cast to the sea where it was swallowed by a fish. This allowed the legions of demons under King Solomon’s power to rise up against the king. Asmodeus then cast the King 400 miles outside Jerusalem. Solomon then lived as a beggar wandering from city to city, working in kitchens and doing hard labor. Ancient Rabbis claim this was a divine punishment by God for Solomon worshiping foreign deities. Years later he was walking in a market and bought a fish for his supper, the same fish that held the Magick ring in his belly. King Solomon then returns to Jerusalem to expel Asmodeus and his demonic rule. Asmodeus is said to be thwarted by the Archangel Raphael who binds him. According to a tale found in the 1001 Arabian Nights King Solomon is known as a master of the Djinn, and captures all the Djinn or demons into a brass vessel and seals it with a magickal symbol and casts the vessel out to the sea trapping the Djinn whom he first summoned to build his temple. This legend is the bassis for the Greater and Lesser Keys of Solomon. 

The Lesser Key of Solomon, or the Goetia, is a medieval magickal text that claims to give the techniques and materials needed to embark on the mystical path of Solomon. It gives directions for casting magick circles, and invoking demons and dark Djinn into the consciousness of the magician. Here like Solomon the magician must unleash the demon from the brass vessel and symbolically slay the demon with a magical sword. Like the Djinn trapped in the magick lamp, the demon may also grant the wishes and desires of the magician, but it is the test of fortitude for the magician to resist these temptations and expel the demon from his mind.

"The spirits of the Goetia are portions of the human brain. Their seals therefore represent methods of stimulating or regulating those particular spots (though the eye)." (Aleister Crowley, The Initiated Interpretation of Ceremonial Magic in the Goetia.) 

If we as masons want to look at this in a philosophical sense we are all seeking to be the wise King Solomon. We must unlock the brass vessel of our own unconscious mind releasing all the aspects of ourselves we care not to let out. Each demon can be seen as an aspect of our personality that we keep hidden from the world. It is the goal of the magician with the aid of angels and magickal weapons to face the dark aspects of him and symbolically slay and expel those forces from our own spiritual nature, thus purifying him. This medieval system of what some would consider “black magick” is simply a way to reflect upon the aspects of our own psyche. If we as individuals wish to gain the wisdom of the archetypal king, we should face the shadow of ourselves and the demons that well in the void of our own nightmares. 

Before one sincerely attempts to evoke these demons, one should first spend some time invoking the 72 counterpart angels of the Almadel. The Almadel is a very enlightening experience and puts the magician in touch with the aspects of virtue within the psyche of the individual. This should be required for two reasons, one: one should be in touch with their inner strength before they face the demons, and two: the angels of the Almadel have direct control over the demons of the brass vessel. The Almadel is a system of scrying into a crystal ball over a altar made of wax upon which are engraved the Holy names of God. Remember that invocation is to call down a power within your spirit and mind, so you invoke angels to bring them closer. The Magician will evoke demons, to to bring from within ones self into manifestation. 

Almadel Altar
After one has made meaningful contact with his own inner angelic forces, he is now mentally and spiritually prepared to venture into the darkness of his own being. This system of High Magick should only be attempted by those who have magickal training, or are learned practitioners of ceremonial magick. This system to the unprepared is VERY DANGEROUS, and can be disastrous for those who approach the subject manner with a light heart or contempt in the mind. A short exert from the Lesser Key of Solomon will show the level of seriousness this system deserves. 

“Curse you and deprive you from all your offices and places of joy and place and do bind thee in the depths of the bottomless pit, there to remain until the day of judgment; I say into the lake of fire and brimstone… let all the company of heaven curse thee… let the hosts of heaven curse thee, I curse thee into fire unquenchable, and torments unspeakable as thy name and seal is contained in this box, chained and bound up and shall be choked in sulphurus and stinking substance and burnt in this material fire… which is prepared for thee damned and cursed spirits and there to remain until the day of doom and never more remembered of before the face of God which shall come to judge the dead and the world by fire.” (Lesser Key of Solomon, Book 1: Ars Goetia)

The Goetic demons require quite an elaborate array of magical implements such as a magic robe, wand, sword, circle, ring, brass vessel containing the 72 sigils of demons, black mirror within the magick triangle, and a very good memory. These evocations are quite lengthy and the magickal ritual can last quite awhile, especially when in a hypnotic trance which is required. 
Bro. Carroll Poke Runyon, 
before the Dark Mirror 
of the Goetic Demon


For those of you who simply wish to greet your shadow self and do some soul searching, I recommend you find a mirror and paint it with up to 7 layers of black paint, light some candles in a darkened room as gaze into the mirror without evoking the Goetic demons. This is a form of meditation similar to Trataka yoga techniques and can be very beneficial for self-discovery, or to just scare yourself the way kids have been doing while playing “Bloody Mary” for years. 

For those of you inspired to follow in steps of the archetypal King Solomon, to gain insight of the self or wisdom for above, with a sincere nature this system can be very beneficial and enlightening, even life changing. But for those of you who dabble, or foolishly rush into such things and unleash the spirits of the brass vessel Solomon trapped so long ago… well… like the ancient Djinn say… be careful what you wish for.




~JEF

James E Frey, 32° is a Past Sovereign Prince and current librarian of Valley of Danville AASR. Founder of the R.E.B.I.S Research Society he sits on two Blue Lodge Education committees as well as a guest lecturer on Occultism and Esoteric studies in masonry. He is also a Member of the Oak Lawn York Rite, Medinah Shriners, and Golden Dawn Collegium Spiritu Sancti. He also works as a counselor with emotionally and behaviorally challenged children.

The Last Chance Halloween: Revisit


by Midnight Freemason Contributor
Bro. Steven L. Harrison 33˚, FMLR

Editors Note: As I was scrolling through Facebook the other day, I came upon a meme which said how many days away Halloween was. I smiled  It's my favorite holiday, you know. It made me also think of this piece written by Ill. Bro. Harrison a few years ago. It plays on Halloween, Magic and Freemasonry. Go ahead and read on...if you dare.


I figured I'd better get upstairs. I didn't want to go to the séance... yes, the séance... and after that the top three floors would be closed — forever. I'd worked in the building three years and never been up there. This was my last chance. With no working elevators, I hoofed it up the stairs and emerged in a dark fourth-floor hallway of the doomed building. My eyes adjusted and I slowly made my way to the rooms in the northwest corner. I opened the door and entered the fabled room. There were no drapes covering the windows and the bright light nearly blinded me. The room was stark and dirty. To my left was a broken wheelchair. A sink jutted out from the far wall. Its basin was stained and dusty. Beneath it was a wastebasket — full. A bed frame with an old mattress was over by the window. All told, the room was disappointing. It just didn't seem... well... as auspicious as it should have, given what had happened there many, many years ago on Halloween.

Halloween and Freemasonry: There are probably many tie-ins what with all the costumes worn in degree work, skulls and other symbols; and that's before the conspiracy theorists weigh in. Occasionally, though, the pairing of the mysterious holiday and Freemasonry brings to mind images of Harry Houdini, a life member of St. Cecile Lodge 568, New York City.

A man of mystery, you could almost say Brother Harry lived Halloween 24/7. Aside from being, arguably, the world's greatest magician and escape artist, Houdini maintained an abiding interest in the paranormal. He did not, however deceitfully promote it as he felt many did. He despised fraudulent seers and mediums and worked tirelessly to expose their chicanery. He felt everything he couldn't expose as being fake must be real.

He made many attempts to communicate with his mother after she died, but found no evidence of
contact. Still, feeling communication with "the other side" was possible, he made a pact with his wife Bessie that the first to die would attempt to contact the other through a coded message. No one knows what the full message was, but part of the pact was that Houdini would open a pair of silver handcuffs they owned. Bessie never received any communication from Houdini after his death, but hundreds of psychics claimed they did. 

On Halloween 1936, the 10th anniversary of his death, she held a final séance in which he failed toappear. After that, Bess declared the search over and said she believed he could not come back, "It is finished." Two years later she created a firestorm in the world of spiritualists when, playing herself in the film Religious Racketeer, she said she did not believe communication with the dead was possible.

During his life the great Houdini did everything he could to separate the fake aspects of spiritualism from what he thought might be real. Shortly before his death he testified before congress against spiritualists and fortune tellers licensed to practice in Washington, DC. So adamant was he that they were charlatans, the hearing broke out in a shouting match and some of the spectators tried to attack Houdini.

On the other hand, still believing there was something to communication with the spiritual world, he worked with Thomas Edison in an attempt to develop a "delicate psychic detecting instrument." The object of the "ghost machine," as it was called, was to be so sensitive it could detect the presence or touch of an ethereal being from another world. There is no evidence the machine was ever built.

On October 26, 1926, Houdini received a painful blow to the stomach in a demonstration at McGill University in Montreal. Contrary to popular opinion, most medical experts believe the blow was unrelated to the appendicitis attack that followed; however, Houdini failed to get treatment thinking the pain in his stomach was due to the punch to his abdomen. After his appearance in Montreal, he traveled to Detroit where he collapsed at the end of a performance. Five days later, on Halloween, Harry Houdini died.

I was standing in a nondescript empty room on the fourth floor of old Grace Hospital in Detroit. The building, once considered progressive and modern, had deteriorated to the point that it would be torn down in a few months. I ran the Information Technology department downstairs and once my group moved out, the wrecking ball would move in. I soaked it all in. Somehow it just didn't seem that special, but shortly several people and the news media — this year including Time Magazine — would gather there as they had done for years on Halloween.

This wasn't just any room. This was the very place where, on October 31, 1926, Brother Harry Houdini died. I took a final look and turned to leave. As I walked away, people filed past me to enter the room for Houdini's last séance.

Houdini, as had been the case on every Halloween in Grace Hospital since he died, did not show up.

~SLH

Bro. Steve Harrison, 33° is Past Master of Liberty Lodge #31, Liberty, Missouri. He is the editor of the Missouri Freemason magazine, author of the book Freemasonry Crosses the Mississippi, a Fellow of the Missouri Lodge of Research and also its Worshipful Master. He is a dual member of Kearney Lodge #311, St. Joseph Missouri Valley of the Scottish Rite, Liberty York Rite, Moila Shrine and a member and Past Dean of the DeMolay Legion of Honor. Brother Harrison is a regular contributor to the Midnight Freemasons blog as well as several other Masonic publications. His latest book, Freemasons: Tales From the Craft & Freemasons at Oak Island. Both are available on amazon.com.

Haunted Freemasonry

by Midnight Freemason Guest Contributor
RW:. Alex G. Powers

RW Powers and the photo of PM McKlintock

Not everyone believes in ghosts or the supernatural, but around this time each year, most people can at least entertain the idea of spooky sounds, sightings, and even hauntings. Believe it or not, there have been many reports of spooky happenings in or around Masonic Temples for quite a long time. I think it goes with the territory of the whole Masonic lure and with many of our buildings being rather old, and kinda just creepy to start with. Nevertheless, many have claimed with certainty that they have heard, felt, and even seen strange happenings inside Masonic Temples.

While lower of the scale of “hauntings” we have had some unexplained occurrences at my lodge’s building that have succeeded at raising the hairs on the back of my neck. Pictures randomly falling from the wall, unexplained footsteps, the sound of doors opening and closing, and even the muttering of voices in the other room only to find no one there. The front door to our lodge has a large pain of glass looking up the stairs, which one evening, while locking the door I happened to glance up and caught a quick glimpse of a mysterious figure standing at the top looking down at me. Of course, after a double-take, it was no longer there. A simple remedy to this issue: I no longer look through the window while locking the door! 😊

While Robert Johnson was in town last year I took him on a tour of our Temple building, without mentioning any of the past “happenings” he mentioned he got a creepy feeling since arriving and whipped out an EMF detector (yeah, that actually happened). Picking several hits, we let it run while we continued to chat. Getting very strong readings next to the photo of Past Master McClintock on the north wall and by the Master’s chair in the East. In fact, while standing in the East the EMF kept getting strong bumps in readings as if something was coming closer. It did this about three times which, needless to say, had our undivided attention. Then all of a sudden, the readings zeroed out and I got chills from head to toe. While I will be the first to admit this was probably my mind playing along, that was enough for me to call it a night.

The strange occurrences at our building are not alone by any means. There have been articles published and even television shows covering unexplained events at many Masonic Temple buildings such as Plano Lodge 768 and so many others. But what about you? Have you ever had a creepy experience in a Masonic Temple?

~AGP

RWB, Alex G. Powers is a historian and esoteric enthusiast. As a fifth-generation Freemason, he carries a hearty interest in antiquities of the Masonic institution. He currently serves as the Director of the Kansas Lodge of Research as well as District Deputy Grand Master for Area 9A in Kansas, he is also a Past Master and currently serving as Tyler and Lodge Historian for Gardner Lodge No. 65. Brother Powers is the host and founder of Historical Light, an independent production focusing on the history of Freemasonry. He is also the author of “A History of Gardner Masonic Lodge No. 65” with additional projects in the works.

Night of the Living Freemasons

by Midnight Freemason Contributor
WB Darin A. Lahners


I’ve been studying our rituals and history for quite some time now, and I’ve discovered the secret meaning of our Freemasonry. Freemasonry is teaching us about Zombies. In fact, all of the degrees you take are training you for the inevitability of you rising from the grave. Yes, my brothers. I know it’s not something you were prepared to hear, but it’s true. Freemasonry teaches us all how to act as a zombie. It’s only through carefully studying our ritual and practices, that this will become apparent. Before I get into details, let’s discuss the characteristics of a zombie.

In film and television, zombies have the below characteristics:

· They were dead, but have somehow arisen from the grave

· They are able to move, however they can be depicted as moving really fast or very slow.

· They are in a decaying state

· Unending Hunger

· Clumsy

· Vulnerable to the destruction of the brain

· Unaffected by injuries, except ones that hurt the brain

· Zombies can only multiple by making other zombies.

· They do not attack other zombies

· They are industrious

Let’s break this down:

Zombies were dead, but have somehow arisen from the grave. One only needs to look at our penultimate degree. The secret lesson that we’re being taught is that we all are going to become zombies at some point. We’d better get used it.

Zombies are able to move, however they can depicted as moving really fast or very slow. The next time you’re in lodge either for a business meeting or a degree observe the floor work of the participants. You will see slow, methodical movements. Then observe the difference of the speed at which we leave the lodge at the end of a long business meeting, or to get food before or after a degree. You will observe the average Freemason moving at speeds that Usain Bolt could only dream of.

Zombies are in a decaying state. Think about ritual in the degree mentioned above. The body of Hiram Abiff was in a state of high putrefaction when discovered. Imagine how he must have looked when raised (FROM THE DEAD…INSERT OMINIOUS MUSIC HERE). We’re taught in Freemasonry to care about the internal qualifications of a man, and not the external. This is obviously because when we come back to life, there’s a good chance that we’re not going to look or smell so good.

Zombies have unending hunger. Do I really have to say it? Zombies like to eat. Freemasons like to eat. All of our meals, table lodges and festive boards are training us as Freemasons to have an unending hunger for human flesh when we become zombies.

Zombies are usually portrayed as being clumsy. When’s that last time you went to a degree where everything went perfectly? There’s usually at least some awkwardness caused by misspoken or forgotten ritual, or a misstep in the floor work. Freemasons are able to make a mistake here or there as and to brush it off and continue the ritual. This is preparing us for the inevitability that most of us are going to be shambling mounds of flesh. Sure, we’ll have a few of us that more akin to Bub from George A. Romero’s “Day of the Dead”, but that will be the exception rather than the rule.

Zombies are vulnerable to the destruction of the brain, but are unaffected by other injuries. One of the most important lessons we are taught in the second section of the Third Degree is what wounds we can sustain, and which will kill us when we are zombies. How is Hiram assaulted? He’s able to survive the first few attacks. It’s the one that final strike and where it's placed that does him in.

Zombies are individually pretty easy to kill. However, in a group they are powerful. Because of this, zombies are focused on trying to keep up their zombie membership numbers by making other zombies. Not only that, there are certain other smaller zombie groups which branch out from the main herd. The parallel to Freemasonry is uncanny.

Zombies never attack other zombies. It’s almost like the zombies have taken some sort of obligation to not harm other zombies. Why does that ring a bell?

Zombies are industrious. They work together towards a common goal of the destruction of humanity. Are we not as Freemasons taught about this? That we should also be industrious, or else be a useless drone of nature?

Still not convinced my Brethren? Let me draw your attention to this article which tells the tale of how the most famous American Freemason, George Washington almost became a zombie. From the io9 website: (https://io9.gizmodo.com/5880149/the-capitol-architect-wanted-to-reanimate-george-washingtons-dead-body)

George Washington may have been America's first president, but was he nearly America's first zombie-in-chief? If William Thornton, physician and designer of the US Capitol, had had his way, Washington's body would have been subjected a scientific experiment designed to bring the deceased former president back to life.

In December 1799, 67-year-old George Washington took a ride through the wet winter rain and, shortly afterward, developed a fever and a sore throat. When his condition became so bad that Washington could no longer swallow the concoctions of vinegar, molasses, and butter with which he was trying to treat himself, Washington called in his livestock and slave overseer, who drained three-quarters of a pint of blood from the ailing man. When bleeding failed to have the desired effect, three physicians were called in, all of whom recommended emetics and — you guessed it — more blood to be drawn. Over the brief course of his treatment, Washington's stomach and bowels were repeatedly evacuated and the puncture-happy docs took nearly two and a half liters of blood. Just two days after that fateful morning ride, Washington closed his eyes for the final time, after telling his doctors, "I die hard, but I am not afraid to go."

But Washington's body was not buried immediately after his death. The president may not have feared death, but he did fear being buried alive. Before he died, he commanded his secretary, Tobias Lear, to make sure that he would not be entombed less than three days after he died. In accordance with Washington's wishes, his body was put on ice until it could be moved to the family vault.

That's where the story gets a little strange. The morning after Washington died, his step-granddaughter Elizabeth Law arrived with a family friend, William Thornton. History best remembers Thornton as the architect who created the original design for the Capitol building, but he was also a trained physician, having studied at the University of Edinburgh. Although he did not practice medicine for much of his life, Thornton always had a keen interest in the workings of the human body, and he suggested a novel method for resurrecting the fallen warrior. Thornton told Washington's wife Martha that he wanted to thaw Washington's body by the fire and have it rubbed vigorously with blankets. Then he planned to perform a tracheotomy so he could insert a bellows into Washington's throat and pump his lungs full of air, and finally to give Washington an infusion of lamb's blood. Friends and family declined Thornton's mad scientist offer, not because they thought his solution impossible, but because they felt the nation's first president should rest in peace.

So what gave Thornton the idea to play Dr. Frankenstein? Susan E. Lederer, author of the book Flesh and Blood: Organ Transplantation and Blood Transfusion in Twentieth-Century America, notes that many physicians in the late 18th Century believed that lamb's blood had special properties, and believes Thornton meant to give Washington's circulatory system "a spark of vitality" that might jolt him back to life. But Paul Schmidt, in his article "Forgotten transfusion history: John Leacock of Barbados" published in the British Medical Journal, suggests that the University of Edinburgh may have been on the forefront of transfusion research (unless you count all those transfusion experiments in 17th-Century France). 

Thornton wasn't the only Edinburgh alum thinking about blood transfusions during that time period. Philip Syng Physick, an earlier Edinburgh grad (who incidentally practiced in Philadelphia, where Thornton himself briefly practiced medicine), is reported to have performed a human blood transfusion as early as 1795. John Leacock, a later graduate, performed successful transfusion experiments, believing an infusion of blood would "excite" the recipient heart. Leacock's experiments in turn influenced James Blundell, who is credited with introducing the process to the mainstream medical community. Schmidt wonders if the Edinburgh community took particular interest in those early French transfusion experiments, planting the idea in Thornton's mind.

Oddly, reanimation wasn't Thornton's only thwarted plan for Washington's body. Thornton secretly included a burial vault in his designs for the Capitol, hoping that it would be Washington's final resting place. After Washington's coffin was placed in the family vault, Martha did agree that he could be later removed to the Capitol, on the grounds that her body could join his when she died. Alas, the transfer of burial chambers, like zombie Washington himself, was not meant to be.

Story discovered via Holly Tucker's book Blood Work: A Tale of Medicine and Murder in the Scientific Revolution, which details a series of blood transfusion experiments undertaken more than a century before Washington's death.


It’s my belief that George Washington instructed his secretary to not entomb is his body until 3 days had passed because he knew full well that he was going to return as a zombie. Unfortunately, he didn’t pay attention to our degrees. Hiram Abiff was raised after being dead 15 days. For whatever reason, that’s the amount of time we as Freemasons will remain dead before re-animating. Thornton’s attempts to re-animate our beloved first president was just a clever cover up to explain why Washington would have returned from the dead. Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be. I suspect that what Thorton did was actually prevent George from re-animating.

I hope that my satire was well received. What is clear however, is that with a little imagination, how one can take some of our rituals, and apply them for nefarious purposes. One just needs to go to YouTube and type in "Freemason conspiracies" to get a full dose of this. You’ll quickly find out that the Freemasons are responsible for not only plotting to take over the world and institute a one world government, but for also faking the moon landing (Freemasons control NASA), waging a war on Christianity, Islam and/or Judaism, controlling Hollywood, worshiping Satan, being in league with the Illuminati (some of whom are Reptilian Shape Shifting Aliens), and suppressing the “truth” that the earth is Flat. I’m sure I’m missing some. I can only wish the Freemasons were so cool. Seriously. If we were responsible for all of these things, it would mean we had an active and engaged membership. I think that what many of the YouTube conspiracy theorists fail to realize is just how dire our situation is. In the past 6 months, I have been to two meetings that couldn’t make quorum. If we can’t get Freemasons to come out to meetings, then how in the heck would we be able to do any of the things they accuse us of doing?

Quite frankly, when I wrote above that zombies are in a decaying state, the tie to Freemasonry is obvious. Freemasonry as a whole is in a decaying state. We’re fighting a declining membership due to the attrition of members dying, and not being able to bring new members in. When we are able to bring in new members, we’re having a hard time in retaining or engaging them. Existing active members see apathy all around, and slowly start to succumb to it as well. We’re unable to adapt to the times, instead clutching our ancient landmarks for dear life. 

When a decision of allowing Trans men to join and Trans women to retain their membership in UGLE was made, the hope that I had that a sea change was coming was quickly dashed by the troglodytic comments made by my Brothers on Social Media. As other organizations like the BSA allow women, we hold steadfast. After 300 Years, we need to start to realize that as the ancient landmarks were written in a time where women did not have equal rights, and men, women and children were held as property, we might need to start to change them. Yes, we can still guard the West Gate, but we need to at least allow more people to approach it. My brothers, we can do better and we must do better. If we don’t do something radical and soon, the trend of the continuing decline of membership will continue until Freemasonry is dead. I fear that once that happens, unlike the zombie, we won’t be able to raise it from its grave.

~DAL

WB Darin A. Lahners is the Worshipful Master of St. Joseph Lodge No.970 in St. Joseph and a plural member of Ogden Lodge No. 754 (IL), and Homer Lodge No. 199 (IL). He’s a member of the Scottish Rite Valley of Danville, a charter member of the new Illinois Royal Arch Chapter, Admiration Chapter No. 282, and is the current Secretary of the Illini High Twelve Club No. 768 in Champaign – Urbana (IL). He is also a member of the Eastern Illinois Council No. 356 Allied Masonic Degrees. You can reach him by email at darin.lahners@gmail.com.

The Last Chance Halloween

by Midnight Freemason Contributor
Bro. Steven L. Harrison, PM, FMLR


I figured I'd better get upstairs.  I didn't want to go to the séance... yes, the séance... and after that the top three floors would be closed — forever.  I'd worked in the building three years and never been up there.  This was my last chance.  With no working elevators, I hoofed it up the stairs and emerged in a dark fourth-floor hallway of the doomed building.  My eyes adjusted and I slowly made my way to the rooms in the northwest corner.  I opened the door and entered the fabled room.  There were no drapes covering the windows and the bright light nearly blinded me.  The room was stark and dirty.  To my left was a broken wheelchair.  A sink jutted out from the far wall.  Its basin was stained and dusty.  Beneath it was a wastebasket — full.  A bed frame with an old mattress was over by the window.  All told, the room was disappointing.  It just didn't seem... well... as auspicious as it should have, given what had happened there many, many years ago on Halloween.

Halloween and Freemasonry: There are probably many tie-ins what with all the costumes worn in degree work, skulls and other symbols; and that's before the conspiracy theorists weigh in.  Occasionally, though, the pairing of the mysterious holiday and Freemasonry brings to mind images of Harry Houdini, a life member of St. Cecile Lodge 568, New York City.

A man of mystery, you could almost say Brother Harry lived Halloween 24/7.  Aside from being, arguably, the world's greatest magician and escape artist, Houdini maintained an abiding interest in the paranormal.  He did not, however deceitfully promote it as he felt many did.  He despised fraudulent seers and mediums and worked tirelessly to expose their chicanery. He felt everything he couldn't expose as being fake must be real.

He made many attempts to communicate with his mother after she died, but found no evidence of contact.  Still, feeling communication with "the other side" was possible, he made a pact with his wife Bessie that the first to die would attempt to contact the other through a coded message.  No one knows what the full message was, but part of the pact was that Houdini would open a pair of silver handcuffs they owned.  Bessie never received any communication from Houdini after his death, but hundreds of psychics claimed they did.  

On Halloween 1936, the 10th anniversary of his death, she held a final séance in which he failed to appear.  After that, Bess declared the search over and said she believed he could not come back, "It is finished."  Two years later she created a firestorm in the world of spiritualists when, playing herself in the film Religious Racketeer, she said she did not believe communication with the dead was possible.

During his life the great Houdini did everything he could to separate the fake aspects of spiritualism from what he thought might be real.  Shortly before his death he testified before congress against spiritualists and fortune tellers licensed to practice in Washington, DC.  So adamant was he that they were charlatans, the hearing broke out in a shouting match and some of the spectators tried to attack Houdini.

On the other hand, still believing there was something to communication with the spiritual world, he worked with Thomas Edison in an attempt to develop a "delicate psychic detecting instrument."  The object of the "ghost machine," as it was called, was to be so sensitive it could detect the presence or touch of an ethereal being from another world.  There is no evidence the machine was ever built.

On October 26, 1926, Houdini received a painful blow to the stomach in a demonstration at McGill University in Montreal.  Contrary to popular opinion, most medical experts believe the blow was unrelated to the appendicitis attack that followed; however, Houdini failed to get treatment thinking the pain in his stomach was due to the punch to his abdomen.  After his appearance in Montreal, he traveled to Detroit where he collapsed at the end of a performance.  Five days later, on Halloween, Harry Houdini died.

I was standing in a nondescript empty room on the fourth floor of old Grace Hospital in Detroit.  The building, once considered progressive and modern, had deteriorated to the point that it would be torn down in a few months.  I ran the Information Technology department downstairs and once my group moved out, the wrecking ball would move in.  I soaked it all in.  Somehow it just didn't seem that special, but shortly several people and the news media — this year including Time Magazine — would gather there as they had done for years on Halloween.  

This wasn't just any room.  This was the very place where, on October 31, 1926, Brother Harry Houdini died.  I took a final look and turned to leave.  As I walked away, people filed past me to enter the room for Houdini's last séance.

Houdini, as had been the case on every Halloween in Grace Hospital since he died, did not show up.

~SLH


Steve Harrison, 32° KCCH, is a Past Master of Liberty Lodge #31, Liberty, Missouri. He is the editor of the Missouri Freemason magazine, author of the book Freemasonry Crosses the Mississippi, a Fellow of the Missouri Lodge of Research and also its Senior Warden. He is a dual member of Kearney Lodge #311, St. Joseph Missouri Valley of the Scottish Rite, Liberty York Rite, Moila Shrine and is a member of the DeMolay Legion of Honor.