Dead Lodges Walking

by Midnight Freemason Contributor
Bro. Ken JP Stuczynski

One of my favorite sayings is "You can't step on the same piece of water twice." It's akin to "You can never really go home." We long for times when things seemed better. We fight the current to return to Whence We Came instead of dealing with an uncomfortable, unpleasant, or unfamiliar Now. We want to have what we once had, to go back to running a Lodge like we did generations ago.

This is the drag and inertia we see in Lodges, and frankly, it's been killing us. It's the REASON we are where we are. If only we could go back to doing things that made us great! Except it's not the same river. That water has moved on. And we didn't thrive years ago because of anything special we did. Everyone joined everything and they didn't care if it was Freemasonry or any other reason to have another night out.

If we REALLY want to return to what made us great, we have to go much farther back -- to times like TODAY when Lodges that survive do so because they bring meaning and value, not because the masses to fill our rolls want to wear another pin or a fez.

We want to blame television (and more recently, the Internet), apathy, and lack of attendance. We blame parenting for lack of interest in joining. Maybe the fault is us. We think we are more committed and dedicated by being in Lodge just because we are there. Years ago, that was good enough -- or maybe it wasn't but we got away with it. Today, some of the most Masonic of us have learned to pick and choose. We go where the action is -- where we are needed for more than a dues payment or to fill in a chair just to open long enough to pay bills.

We complain about being in a holding pattern -- or a slow spiral downward -- but don't do anything to break out of it. In fact, we will do anything NOT to break out of it. We focus on petitions, money, or a building as if these are the ends and not the means. Masonry isn't rocket science. We don't "make good men better" by running a club that just happens to have some old ritual. We provide instruction and mentorship through fraternal solidarity of purpose.

That's it. Everything we do can be guided by this purpose, from checking in on Brothers to providing relief, to nourishing minds and hearts with programs, to practicing it all by making a difference in the world through community projects.

If a Lodge lacks any of these, we need to address that, not complain about why people don't attend. It's not a secret why some Lodges are thriving and others are not. The ones who do the Work are not talking about mergers or seem desperate for petitions. They are focused on the purpose, not the result.

What would going back to the "Golden Years" of Masonry actually mean? Should we pretend that world still exists and shake our fists at fate for not delivering us into a promised land of busting Degree cycles? That's what we've been doing for almost half a century and it's gotten us nowhere. And Masonic authors from long before this shared the same fears our Craft would not survive another generation. But they've also shared the solution over and over and over -- meaningful programs and instruction.

But knowing the solution and not taking it elevates the issue to "level 2 tech support" where obstructionists need to stand down, step down, or go just away. Our own members are why we can't have nice things.

Freemasonry is starting to finally emerge from this. It's stronger where it counts, having shed skin that doesn't fit anymore. But we still have plenty of Dead-Lodges-Walking and leaders who will keep a Lodge on life support until they -- or the Lodge -- are gone. Forget merging dead lodges into larger dead heaps and waiting for people to age out. Pull charters. Emeritus-away the old guard if they can't let go of the reigns. Stop glorifying hold-outs. Let's climb on the life raft of functional, healthy Lodges. The Fraternity needs some excision or we all risk going down with the ship.

~JP
 
Bro. Ken JP Stuczynski is a member of West Seneca Lodge No.1111 and recently served as Master of Ken-Ton Lodge No.1186. As webmaster for NYMasons.Org he is on the Communications and Technology Committees for the Grand Lodge of the State of New York. He is also a Royal Arch Mason and 32nd Degree Scottish Rite Mason, serving his second term as Sovereign Prince of Palmoni Council in the Valley of Buffalo, NMJ. He also coordinates a Downtown Square Club monthly lunch in Buffalo, NY. He and his wife served as Patron and Matron of Pond Chapter No.853 Order of the Eastern Star and considered himself a “Masonic Feminist”.

Transgression: Is Freemasonry Sacred?

by Midnight Freemason Contributor
Patrick Dey



There are two philosophical concepts Masons like to debate from time to time: is Freemasonry a religion? and is Freemasonry a secret society? Both of these depend on how you define religion and a secret society. While both are interesting things to debate, I would like to pose a different, yet related question: is Freemasonry sacred? Well, once again, the answer will depend upon how we define the term “sacred.”

I think the knee-jerk answer would be: yes. However, that may be a result of conceiving the term “sacred” as meaning really important or something equivalent. Historically we philosophically conceive of the sacred in conjunction with or in opposition to the profane. This is certainly the way Mircea Eliade conceives of the sacred. Eliade’s definition of the sacred is a bit simplistic, but it is useful in most cases. In his The Sacred and the Profane (1957), Eliade would define “sacred” as that which is “set apart from the profane.” Émile Durkheim would say much the same thing earlier in his The Elementary Forms of Religious Life (1912). Thus, the profane is that which is related to human society: politics, civics, economics, sex, cooking dinner, bar fights, going to work, taking care of one’s family, et cetera. These are not sacred things… more or less. We may see something sacred in, say, sex or caring for loved ones, and we will get to that because Eliade’s definition has limits.

What is interesting about Eliade’s definition is that he defines the sacred as that which is “set apart,” and this is the key phrase. The sacred is not just that which is not profane, but that which has been set apart from the profane. We set apart some land within the city to build a church or a mosque or whatever, and thus this structure is sacred. The activities within the church or mosque are sacred because they are set apart from civic activities. We set apart some livestock to slaughter and burn upon an altar for the gods, and thus this sacrifice is sacred. The magician will set apart some parchment that has never been used before (i.e. is not a palimpsest, or never had its previous ink scraped off and reused), which ensures it has never had any profane purpose previous to its magical uses. Et cetera.

There are limits to Eliade’s definition of the sacred. For one, nature, the untamed wilderness, God’s original creation. Who would dare say that raw nature is profane? None. Yet, nature is not “set apart” from the profane. The wilderness is a priori to civilization. If anything, civilization sets itself apart from nature, not vice versa.

Nature is of course an extreme case, but extremes are still important, as they illustrate where our definitions break down. But nature is such an important case when it comes to the sacred that it cannot be ignored. Eliade would attempt to reconcile this in his own way, generating conceptions like “mythic time” and “mythic history,” but these are vague and weak when tackling such a monumental notion as nature in contemplating the sacred.

The philosopher — though he would deny that he was a philosopher — who I think best tackles this issue is Georges Bataille. Bataille was quite the character, and in his approach to generating any definition is to start at the extremes and work his way back to the middle. He would describe it as taking the principle to its “logical conclusion.” When Bataille contemplates the sacred, it is not something that is “set apart” from society, but rather that human civilization has set itself apart from nature — nature, which is the original sacred. Civilization is established by-laws, codes of conduct, ethics, social contracts, taboos, et cetera. Thus, the taboo is what sets civilization apart from the primordial sacred (i.e. nature). So, for Bataille, to engage the sacred is to transgress, to commit an act of transgression against the taboos of society.

That seems like a huge leap to make, but let us follow Bataille’s logic. Bataille outlines these ideas in his seminal work Eroticism: Death and Sensuality (1957). We as “discontinuous” beings have a limited amount of energy we can exert in a given day. At the end of the workday, if we are exhausted and have no more energy, we go to sleep and pride ourselves on being successful members contributing to society. If we have leftover energy, we waste it, we sacrifice it on non-productive activities. We may drink, make love, play video games, go to church, argue with people online, et merda. If we have a surplus of anything, it must be wasted, because our energy cannot be stored, it must be expended. Sacrifice and waste are at the heart of much of Bataille’s philosophy, especially in his theory of general economy (The Accursed Share, Vol. 1). The sun produces an exorbitant amount of energy every second than this tiny blue marble can harness. If we consume more sustenance than our bodies need to maintain themselves, the excess is excreted. If we have excess money than needed to survive, we waste it on things like gambling and launching cars into space. Such examples of unproductive waste is an exercise in exerting power: we could use these resources to benefit society, but we will waste it, and thus we demonstrate that we hold power.

These things have no utilitarian purpose. If energy is not exerted for any other purpose than “work,” if it is not “productive” to society, it is a waste and a transgression of the societal taboo against being unproductive. Sex for any purpose other than making babies — babies that will one day become workers themselves and pay taxes — is a transgression (i.e. erotic), because it serves no utilitarian purpose. Sacrificing animals is sacred because those animals provide nourishment or can be used for labor, but once they are killed and burned completely and absolutely, the animal moves into the sacred, because there is no way to use it for any productive purpose ever again.

To transgress society’s taboos is to crossover into the sacred, to transgress back into nature — nature, which civilization set itself apart from. That’s Bataille’s philosophy. While extreme, it is more useful than Eliade or Durkheim’s definitions, because Bataille’s definition is all-encompassing.

With that in mind, is Freemasonry sacred? From Eliade’s definition, yes — yes, it is. The Lodge sets itself apart from society, purging outsiders (the profane) from the room, and establishing a space separate from politics, economy, sex, race, religion, et al; a space for Masons to do Masonic stuff. Freemasonry very perfectly fits within Eliade’s definition of the sacred, and Freemasonry gets mentioned here and there in much of Eliade’s work (and before you ask, no he was not a Mason). But from Bataille’s definition of the sacred, Freemasonry is… well… hmmm… may be sacred?

If we have the time, money, and energy to go to Lodge, then yes; we have excess energy at the end of the day and we sacrifice it to Masonry. And if we don’t have the energy, then we don’t go to Lodge. Going to Lodge becomes a sacred activity because it has no utilitarian purpose. Kind of, because lodges do stuff. We conduct business, read minutes, pay bills, donate to charities, we help each other out, and so forth. So, Freemasonry is not so sacred, because Freemasons do productive things for society. To aid our fellow creatures is an essential part of Freemasonry.

This is what Durkheim would term a “conspiracy society,” that is, a secret society that has utilitarian purposes (i.e. conspire, to agree or do things together). Bataille would found his own secret society, which he sought to make completely and totally sacred. It was called Acéphale (“Headless”), and it was very short-lived, mostly because the members didn’t understand what they were supposed to do or what purpose the society served. That was kind of the point. Bataille didn’t want a conspiracy society, he wanted what he termed an “existential society,” a secret society that exists for the sole purpose of existing. Bataille actually wanted to kick off Acéphale with a human sacrifice, and he even offered himself as the sacrifice, as did others, but no one wanted to be the executioner. (I told you he was a character).

Acéphale was actually partly based on Freemasonry. Well, kind of. It was inspired by Honoré Balzac’s The Thirteen (and Balzac was a Mason), as well as the Society of the Tower in Wolfgang von Goethe’s Wilhelm Meister’s Travels (Goethe was also a Mason), but Acéphale was also partly based on the secret societies in the Marquis de Sade’s Justine, Juliette, and 120 Days of Sodom, which were largely exercises in “sovereignty” rather than “conspiracy” (and no, the Divine Marquis was not a Mason, thank God)… so, not exactly the same thing. Still, Acéphale conducted their rites in the Forest of Marly outside of Paris. One site they met at, or at least frequented, was the Désert de Retz, which has long been believed to have held Masonic symbolic significance (e.g. la Colonne Détruite, a house in the shape of a broken column, and other curious structures). Acéphale, in a way, was Bataille’s vision of what Freemasonry should be according to his conception of Freemasonry as it is represented in conspiracy theories (“a filthy parody”).

Acéphale is more like a “putty club.” The term putty club comes from the Hungarian children’s novel The Paul Street Boys by Ferenc Molnár, in which the boys have a secret club called “Putty Club.” The members of the Putty Club scrape putty out of windows, chew the putty, and add it to a big ball of putty they keep. They have a president, secretary, and treasurer; they keep minutes, have bylaws, have a banner… Putty Club is definitely a parody of fraternal organizations. The purpose of Putty Club is to accumulate more putty. Thus, the term has become a Hungarian idiom for an organization that exists for the sole purpose of conducting pointless rituals. And that’s how Acéphale functioned or didn’t function: it was meant to be pointless, purely sacred, and that was also why it was so short-lived, lasting for almost three years. Its members simply did not understand what the point of Acéphale was.

Freemasonry is not quite a putty club, but also not quite totally utilitarian. Consider for a moment Plato’s Hippias Major, in which Socrates and Hippias debate the definition of beauty. They use the example of a golden ladle, which is beautiful because it is made of gold. But to use the ladle, to place it into hot soup, will heat the ladle’s handle and make it too hot to hold in your hand. Whereas a wooden ladle, though made of a lesser material than gold, is more useful than the golden ladle, because wood will not heat up the way gold does, and therefore has greater utility. Is the golden ladle beautiful (sacred) because it is made of gold or because it is less useful than the wooden ladle? A fork would be useless in dispensing soup, but the golden ladle is certainly less useful than the wooden ladle as well as more useful than the fork. Freemasonry is a bit like that: it’s a golden ladle. It is not purely utilitarian like the wood ladle, but it isn’t completely useless like a fork.

So is Freemasonry sacred? Depends on the definition of “sacred” you use. However, I agree with Bataille’s definition, as it is the most accurate, or at least the most inclusive of extremes. So, I would say that Freemasonry is a sacred activity for Masons, but operates in a very profane way. It is not exactly profane, nor absolutely sacred. This challenges the way we treat the term “sacred” and “profane” as extremes, i.e. it is not either profane or sacred and nothing in between. The sacred is a gradient, grayscale, Order of Rank (Nietzsche), nuanced, and flexible. Would Freemasonry be totally sacred, it would dissolve like Acéphale did. And would it be totally utilitarian, it would just be politics. It lies on a spectrum of sacrality. On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being City Council and 10 being Putty Club, Freemasonry is probably a 6.5.


~PD

 

Patrick M. Dey is a Past Master of Nevada Lodge No. 4 in the ghost town of Nevadaville, Colorado, and currently serves as their Secretary, and is also a Past Master of Research Lodge of Colorado. He is a Past High Priest of Keystone Chapter No. 8, Past Illustrious Master of Hiram Council No. 7, Past Commander of Flatirons Commandery No. 7, and serves as the Secretary-Recorder of all three. He currently serves as the Exponent (Suffragan) of Colorado College, SRICF of which he is VIII Grade (Magister), and is a member of Gofannin Council No. 315 AMD and Kincora Council No. 8 Knight Masons. He is a facilitator for the Masonic Legacy Society, is the Editor of the Rocky Mountain Mason magazine, serves on the Board of Directors of the Grand Lodge of Colorado’s Library and Museum Association, and is the Deputy Grand Bartender of the Grand Lodge of Colorado (an ad hoc, joke position he is very proud to hold). He holds a Masters of Architecture degree from the University of Colorado, Denver, and works in the field of architecture in Denver, where he resides with wife and son.

Circumambulation - The Lodge Education Series

by Midnight Freemason Emeritus Contributor
R.H. Johnson



This is the first in a series that will be posted, likely reprinted in The Lyceum, and that will or have been delivered to my Mother Lodge, Waukegan No. 78, in Waukegan, Illinois. If you missed the back story on these, check out the article titled, "Return to Basics - Masonic Education Begins Anew."

Prepared for Waukegan Masonic Lodge No. 78 - Education for April 17, 2023

For my first Lodge Education at my Mother Lodge since leaving a few years ago, I wanted to do something fun. I wanted to cover something I talked about the very first time I became an LEO way back when Worshipful Brother Michael Ruchti was the Master.

I spoke about the practice of circumambulating the altar, or rather, walking around it. So tonight, many years later, I’d like to read you a little something and then perhaps ask you all some questions.

Circumambulation, the practice of walking around an object or area in a prescribed pattern, is an ancient ritual used for a variety of purposes. It is a physical manifestation of a spiritual act that has been used for centuries in a variety of religious and cultural contexts. This short education piece will take a bird's-eye-view of the history and use of circumambulation as a ritual, and religion, as well as its significance in different contexts.

Circumambulation has been used for centuries as a ritualistic practice in religious and cultural contexts. In Hinduism, it is used as a form of worship to honor a deity, and in Buddhism, it is used to honor the relics of the Buddha. Similarly, circumambulation is used in Islamic tradition to honor the Kaaba, a cuboid-shaped structure located in the center of the Grand Mosque in Mecca. In these contexts, circumambulation is seen as a way of connecting to a higher power, and it is believed that the act of walking around an object is a way of honoring and paying homage to it.

In addition to its religious use, circumambulation has also been used as a ritualistic practice in secular contexts. For example, in some Native American cultures, circumambulation is used as a way of honoring the four directions, with each direction representing a different element, such as water, fire, earth, and air. This ritual is believed to bring the participants into harmony with their environment, and it is seen as a way of connecting to the spirit world.

In Freemasonry, circumambulation is often used as an initiation or consecration rite. This ritual involves walking around an altar or some other object of reverence in a clockwise direction. The circumambulation is typically conducted three times, with the number three standing for the Masonic triad of faith, hope, and charity. As the initiate circles the altar, they are encouraged to focus on the spiritual significance of the rite and to meditate on the divine.

By participating in circumambulation, Freemasons are able to connect with the divine on a deeper level and gain a greater understanding of the spiritual principles that Freemasonry stands for. 

I invite any commentary, and questions and encourage conversation about your memories of this activity in the Lodge. 

~RHJ

RWB Johnson is an Emeritus Managing Editor of the Midnight Freemasons blog. He is a Freemason out of the 2nd N.E. District of Illinois. He currently serves as the Secretary of Spes Novum Lodge No. 1183. He is a Past Master of Waukegan Lodge 78 and a Past District Deputy Grand Master for the 1st N.E. District of Illinois. He is the current V:. Sovereign Grand Inspector for AMD in IL. Brother Johnson currently produces and hosts his weekly Podcast, Whence Came You?, which focuses on topics relating to Freemasonry. He is also a co-host of The Masonic Roundtable, a Masonic talk show. He is a husband and father of four and works full-time in the executive medical industry. He is the co-author of "It's Business Time - Adapting a Corporate Path for Freemasonry", “The Master’s Word: A Short Treatise on the Word, the Light, and the Self – Annotated Edition,” and author of "How to Charter a Lodge: A No-Nonsense, Unsanctioned Guide. More books are on the way.

The Haymarket Affair

by Midnight Freemason Guest Contributor
RWB Robert Marshall



Editor's Note:  I had recently learned, from Emertius Contributor Brian Pettice, that the lawyer who defended Alan Parsons and the other defendants was William Perkins Black.  He and his brother were the first pair of brothers to receive the Congressional Medal of Honor for their actions at the Battle of Pea Ridge. Black: "Single-handedly confronted the enemy, firing a rifle at them and thus checking their advance within 100 yards of the lines."  He and his brother were also Illinois Freemasons, both being members of Olive Branch No. 38 in Danville, Illinois.  Remembering the Robert had shared this post with me at Kansas Masonic-Con, I had asked him if I could use his write up for the blog.  With his permission, I present the below. 

"When the halter was placed about his neck he never faltered. He stood erect, looking earnestly yet reproachfully at the people before him. The nooses were quickly adjusted, the caps pulled down, and a hasty movement made for the traps. Then from beneath the hoods came these words:

"Will I be allowed to speak, O men of America? Let me speak, Sheriff Matson! Let the voice of the people be heard! O —" But the signal had been given, and the officers of the State performed their mission by strangling both speakers and speech."

Once upon a time, a sheriff executed a member of my Masonic Lodge for speaking out against flaws in the American way of life. Stop me if you've heard this story before but it might not be the one you think. This man was white. While he hung from the gallows, his black wife and children sat in a cold jail cell, stripped of their clothing, like animals in a barn stall. This was so they would not have a chance to say goodbye...

In the decades following the Civil War, America became the environment for a new kind of racial and class-based tension. As former slaves explored their newfound freedoms amid the Industrial Revolution that made the old slave-dependent economy obsolete, they became employees of companies with very little regulation. Children and adults were worked endlessly and in unbearable conditions. Chattel slavery gave way to industrial feudalism and many could hardly tell the difference.

Into this environment, new ideas entered American discourse. Industrial employees cried out for help from the government to intervene and prevent millionaires from exploiting the rest of society. The Workingmen's Party took shape. Most of its leaders were German-speaking immigrants but one of them was a well-dressed white man from Waco who resettled in Chicago after his politics and his wife's mere existence made him an unpopular figure in Texas. He was Albert Parsons, a champion of the working class and a voice for the oppressed. It was that voice that got him hanged. How could a white man get executed for giving a speech in the land of the free? By marrying a black woman and campaigning for the rights of the working class. As a 13 year old boy, Albert was enlisted in his older brother's confederate brigade against his will. After the War, he embraced the goals of Reconstruction. He became a Freemason at Waco Lodge, condemned slavery, and: "...of course, had to go into politics and incurred thereby the hate and contumely of many of my former (Confederate) army comrades, neighbors, and the Ku Klux Klan."


The Workers' Rights movement declared May 1,1886 to be a day of protest, the very first May Day. Albert Parsons, with his wife and two children, marched up Michigan Avenue through Chicago with 80,000 people to demonstrate the will of a people no longer willing to live in a society based on the oppression of minorities and the poor. It was a day of triumph and a day of celebration for the rights of the people. Two days later, all Hell broke loose.

It started when union strikers at a factory clashed with strike-breakers. The police fired into the crowd and killed at least two people. Leaders of the labor movement were incensed that the officers had fired on unarmed protesters so they organized a follow-up rally at Haymarket Square the next day and invited their most popular speakers, August Spies and Albert Parsons.

Spies told the crowd, "There seems to prevail the opinion in some quarters that this meeting has been called for the purpose of inaugurating a riot, hence these warlike preparations on the part of so-called 'law and order.' However, let me tell you at the beginning that this meeting has not been called for any such purpose. The object of this meeting is to explain the general situation of the eight-hour movement and to throw light upon various incidents in connection with it."

Albert Parsons then followed with his usual rhetoric about the importance of a mandated 8-hour work day and the general cause of liberty. His motto: ""Eight Hours for Work, Eight Hours for Rest, Eight Hours for What We Will!" In addition to reasonable schedules, Albert called for fair wages, a shrinking of society's wealth gap, and equality for all. He lamented "the action of the police as an outrage." He condemned "capitalistic newspapers" for mischaracterizing the events that led up to the disaster and "turning the people against the working class." He encouraged the crowd to embrace their American rights as laid out in the Bill of Rights and spoke about the importance of every day people being able to stand against big corporations and even the government itself.

The mayor, who had come to see how bad things would get, became bored and went home. Albert finished his speech and went with some friends to a local pub. Only two hundred people were left at Haymarket Square when 176 police officers arrived to ensure law and order. It was dark and rainy. Someone threw a bomb. Chaos. Officers later explained that in the confusion, they fired into the cloudy darkness, fearing for their lives. When the dust settled, seven officers and four workers were dead.

"No single event has influenced the history of labor in Illinois, the United States, and even the world, more than the Chicago Haymarket Affair. It began with a rally on May 4, 1886, but the consequences are still being felt today. Although the rally is included in American history textbooks, very few present the event accurately or point out its significance" -William J. Adelman

Within 24 hours of the disaster, martial law was declared in cities across America. Parsons and several of his friends were arrested soon thereafter. Three months later, he was found guilty of murder, despite not even being present at the scene of the disaster when it occurred and the complete lack of evidence tying him to the bomb.

On the night of his execution, his wife Lucy came with their two children to visit their father one last time. They were stripped naked and thrown in a cell.

As the moment of execution drew near, Bailiff William Brainerd arrived to escort Parsons. He offered the revolutionary a glass of wine to relax his nerves but Parsons refused it, saying, "No, thanks. I would prefer a cup of coffee." A pot of coffee and a bowl of crackers were procured. He drank the coffee and ate a few of the crackers, afterwards thanking the deputy and exclaiming: "Now I feel all right. Let's finish the business."


Shortly afterward he said to Brainerd: "I am a Mason and have always tried to help my fellow-man all my life. I am going out of the world with a clear conscience. I die that others may live." He then gave Brainerd the Masonic grip and word to authenticate his statement.

At the gallows, Parsons is said to have bravely faced his death. His final words are those you've read at the beginning of this post, cut short by the executioner. One of his comrades, for his own last words, predicted,:

"There will be a time when our silence will be more powerful than the voices you strangle today!"

I believe we are living in that time.

Albert Parsons' legacy continues to unfold today. It is now inseparable from the legacy of George Floyd, in whose memory protesters marched down the same street where Parsons and his wife led the first May Day parade in 1886. In the immediate aftermath of the Haymarket Affair and Parsons' execution, newspapers across the country gave a wide range of opinions about his cause.


Issues of race, class, freedom of the press, the right to assembly, the use of force by police, freedom of speech, and more were all stitched together by the Haymarket Affair and the efforts of Albert Parsons. In Texas, the papers were not very fond of him or his wife and effectively assassinated their character as the last of the images below demonstrate. Albert's widow did get her clothes and dignity back. She continued leading the movement for which her husband was martyred. Lucy Parsons became a tremendous figure in the workers' rights movement and a pioneer in the cause of intersectional feminism. You can read her own account of what happened at Haymarket here: https://www.blackpast.org/african-american-history/1886-lucy-parsons-i-am-anarchist/

~RM

Robert has been an officer of Waco Masonic Lodge since 2009, where he is currently the secretary. He's a 7th generation Texas Mason and a past DDGM of the Grand Lodge of Texas and serves on its History Committee. He's a member of the Austin Scottish Rite Valley and an avid traveler, having been to Lodges or SR Temples in all 50 United States as well as 15 countries and counting. Professionally, he wears several hats but as a historian trained at Baylor University, he has worked or consulted for many museums, agencies, and other institutions as a researcher, writer and curator. You can sometimes find him on Historical Light or other Masonic Podcasts and delivering lectures at Masonic Cons or other Masonic gatherings. Most importantly, he's a husband to Tatiena, and a father to their daughter who was named after Lucy Parsons, a famous Masonic widow.