Getting Faither to the Lodge

He doesn’t visit the Lodge as much as he’d like to these days but having given my sister and me (who he still considers as his children despite our having reached middle-age) an undertaking that he wouldn’t drive after dark following an unfortunate accident where he’d written off his car on the way to a Royal Arch Meeting, he has to depend on others to get him there.

It hasn’t been easy: my having a busy work schedule, and duties in other Orders, but today, circumstances have created the opportunity for me to take him to our Mother Lodge. When we arrive, he is warmly welcomed by the Office-Bearers in charge of the booksigning. He is acknowledged by name by several Brethren (some of whom he doesn’t recognise and asks me ‘who wis that’? when they’ve moved on.)

Some of the older brethren are well known to him, one or two from his schooldays, others from his working life. He adjusts his hearing aid to the background sound levels and then has to grab at it when the round of applause for the visitors suddenly deafens him.

It starts at lunch-time with the phone call ‘when will you be pickin’ me up tonight? It will be very busy see-in’ it’s a Third. You know I like to sit on the back benches and we need to get down there in plenty of time.’ I assure him that unless there’s an emergency at work, I’ll be at his house with enough time to spare. When I arrive, he’s ready, with the classic apparel of an octogenarian widower: the clip-on tie, and the shoes with the Velcro fasteners. Before he can leave, he has to ensure that every light in the house is switched off and the blinds are drawn. He pays due attention to the floor work, nudging me in the ribs and smiling when he’s particularly pleased with the Office-Bearer delivering the ritual, and ‘tuts’ quietly when a visiting Brother makes what he thinks is an over-long oration when the floor has been left open. When the collection is announced, he draws a handful of change from his pocket and asks me ‘whit wan is the pound?’ (his glasses are still in his jaicket pocket.) After the meeting is over, we go upstairs for a cup of tea and a sandwich. His night is made when a Past Master takes the time to come over to speak to him. Soon after he says ‘it’s time we went hame: you’ve yer work in the mornin’.

It’s around four years since he was presented with his 50 year Membership Certificate. He is immensely proud of it but was delighted when the RWM readily agreed to present him with it privately in the Committee Rooms rather than in open Lodge. He worked hard at a manual job all his life until his early 70s when a slight stroke meant him having to give up his self-employed contracting business. He will proudly tell anybody who asks that the only benefit he’s ever had from being in the Craft all these years is Fellowship, Friendship, Harmony and good company. These rewards have been more than enough for him. He has never sought, nor wanted an Office in our Lodge. I drive him home and see he’s safely ensconced. His first move is to dial 1471 in case anybody important has phoned while he was out. I say my goodbyes and his parting words are ‘tell Jean I wis asking for her. Will ye be up here for the fitba on Saturday?’

It’s nearly two decades since he passed to Grand Lodge above but I still feel his hand on my shoulder most days.

My thanks to Bro. JFC

PS Faither is a Scottish dialect for father!

A set of miniatures for a Chapter & Cryptic Council as well as a Lodge & Council. The cryptic jewel is for a PTIM, the red on the Excellent Master suggests a PZ but then why not a red ribbon on the RA jewel? The Lodge & Council seems to be a member & not through a chair.

Below are the token and jewel from the Black Watch Degree team which travels about in BW tartan conferring a Scottish degree.

Freemasons’ Hall in London on Great Queen Street has an image depicting Enoch. The casket sits beneath a stained glass window and contains the Roll of Honour for the brethren who died in the First World War. The rae is known as the ‘shrine’ and sits at the heart of this art deco landmark that began life as the Masonic Peace Memorial.

Above right, the gates from a Disney Park—clearly showing some kind of link. Although not a mason, Disney was a de Molay.

Right is an old photo of procession of brethren from Lodge Albert Lochee No. 448 in Dundee about the early 20th C.