1941: My hometown

[LizzieMaine]

Secret societies are always, uh, curious.

Regarding the painting, I wouldn't use the word "off" but there is to me a disturbing tension in the painting....

"And so, you see, at an annual yield of four and a half percent...

"Dad, you aren't evening listening to me. I told you once and I'll tell you again, I don't want any part of your empty bourgeois life! I'm dropping out of school and going to live on a communal soybean farm in Manitoba with my girlfriend Rainbow and her sisters Dewdrop and Sunbeam!"

"...We can expect a return of.....Wait, she has sisters???"

 

[Fading Fast]

"And so, you see, at an annual yield of four and a half percent...

"Dad, you aren't evening listening to me. I told you once and I'll tell you again, I don't want any part of your empty bourgeois life! I'm dropping out of school and going to live on a communal soybean farm in Manitoba with my girlfriend Rainbow and her sisters Dewdrop and Sunbeam!"

"...We can expect a return of.....Wait, she has sisters???"

And when the commune failed, he came back to dad, took money for college, became a lawyer and, depending on how far he drifted, either went full-on sellout into corporate (or, heaven forbid, Wall Street) law or ameliorated his conscience and became a tort lawyer - of if he had a real conscience, became a public defender (and never paid dad back).

The Elks Clubhouse ⇩ in the town I grew up in. I remember being impressed with the building as a kid.

 

[LizzieMaine]

That's architecturally very similar to our IOOF hall -- that parapet at the top was a standard feature of lodge buildings. Ours has a big I O O F engraved in the granite, leading some of the less-knowledgeable folks in town to call it the "Eye-oof Building."

Another bit of Rockwelliana worth mentioning, is that he chafed for years against certain edicts he had to observe when painting the annual Boy Scout calendar -- most specifically the rule laid down by Scout HQ that he could not, under any circumstances, include "colored Scouts" in his paintings. He put up with this as long as he could, and finally said "the hell with 'em" and integrated the calendar in 1968, daring the organization to do something about it. They finally conceded his point and published it as submitted.

 

[BlueTrain]

Some illustrations in a few early books for boys, especially those written and illustrated by Daniel Carter Beard, a co-founder of the Boy Scouts in the United States, feature boys who sometimes looked so prim and proper that "butter wouldn't melt in their mouths." Beard was a Mason, too. But some reactionism creeps into his books. For instance, he defines an American (a True American, that is) as someone whose grandparents were born in this country. He also said Americans should live in bungalows because that was a foreign house design, which it really is, if that's important.

Norman Rockwell was "in at the beginning" with scouting, too. But he usually confined himself to cover illustrations. One could easily get the impression that scouting is a deadly serious business but that doesn't come through in Boy's Life at all. If you want intense seriousness, though, there's football.

 

[Inkstainedwretch]

Speaking of Currier & Ives, a few years back my brother inherited some large-size C&I chromolithographs from an aunt who had passed away. Probably worth a lot of money, except that some of them were ones nobody today would display publicly because they were so jaw-droppingly racist. "Darktown Lawn Party" comes to mind, depicting the breakup of the said party by an intruding bull, with much eye-rolling and teeth-baring comic hijinks. Even for the times, some of these were astounding.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Some illustrations in a few early books for boys, especially those written and illustrated by Daniel Carter Beard, a co-founder of the Boy Scouts in the United States, feature boys who sometimes looked so prim and proper that "butter wouldn't melt in their mouths." Beard was a Mason, too. But some reactionism creeps into his books. For instance, he defines an American (a True American, that is) as someone whose grandparents were born in this country. He also said Americans should live in bungalows because that was a foreign house design, which it really is, if that's important.

Norman Rockwell was "in at the beginning" with scouting, too. But he usually confined himself to cover illustrations. One could easily get the impression that scouting is a deadly serious business but that doesn't come through in Boy's Life at all. If you want intense seriousness, though, there's football.

It's very interesting to contrast the images in Girl Scout publications with those found in Boy Scout materials -- the Girl Scouts were always more progressive than the Boys in the things they showed and how they showed them. The Girl Scout Calendar was showing African-American girls alongside white girls as far back as 1956.

 

[ChiTownScion]

In Alexandria, Virginia, not far from where we live now and close to where my wife grew up, there is the George Washington Masonic Memorial and it is decidedly monumental. My late father-in-law was a Mason and belonged to a lodge in Alexandria. There was a Masonic rite at his funeral, too. Nobody ever asked me to be a mason.

Bear in mind that the George Washington Masonic Memorial isn't your typical local Masonic temple: it was built and paid for through national subscription. It's a mecca of sort for visiting Freemasons from around the world.

 

[ChiTownScion]

That's architecturally very similar to our IOOF hall -- that parapet at the top was a standard feature of lodge buildings. Ours has a big I O O F engraved in the granite, leading some of the less-knowledgeable folks in town to call it the "Eye-oof Building."

Fraternalism hit its membership peak in the decade or so after the Second World War. I can't speak for the Odd Fellows, but a number of young men became Freemasons in those years who didn't maintain their membership for the long haul. Many reasons for that, I suppose, but essentially popular culture began to accord a wider array of alternative forms of leisure. There was also a popular conception that lodge membership was supposed to afford opportunities for better business and employment opportunities. That (becoming a member for pecuniary advantage)is officially discouraged, of course, and from my own 30 years in the fraternity I can say that I've never experienced it. It never put a dime in my own pocket- and it's taken a few bucks out.... but I have become enriched by what I have seen, who I have met, and where I have travelled, in a very real but intangible sense. But as noted, the notion that one could "join the Masons and improve your business opportunities" was always the myth of bystanders.

Specials on the History Channel and other cable channels have sparked interest in the minds and hearts of a number of young men who have sought membership in my lodge. I'm encouraged by these young guys: they seem to really be interested in us by the historical and philosophical aspects. They quickly learn that we're not part of some vast global Illuminati- type conspiracy bent on domination (although perhaps planning an annual Ladies Night Dinner might be easier if we were), and they're bringing a lot more to the table than a desire to ride a motorized flying carpet and wear a red fez in a local parade as part of a Shriner unit. We're getting bright, ambitious, and educated young men now, and it's pretty exciting to see the diversity of life experiences among them. I'm sitting Master of my lodge this year, and it's fun to see the fraternity rejuvenated with younger men.

Speaking of the Shriners: methinks that the day will soon dawn when one will no longer need to be a Mason to join. As it stands, one now need only be a Master Mason in the local blue lodge to join: when I was younger you had to either be a 32nd Degree Scottish Rite Mason or a Knights Templar in the York Rite.

 

[BlueTrain]

Supposedly membership in lots of fraternal or social organizations had steadily declined since WWII. It would probably be more accurate to say that membership in some types of organizations like that declined, including "mainline" churches, while membership in other organizations, including megachurches, grew. I don't know if there were differences between regions or differences between small towns, medium sized towns and the big cities. I do know that membership in downtown churches, such as the one were my wife and I were married that is five or six blocks from the White House, definitely declined and that is generally true everywhere. The chief reason for that is simply because church members moved to the suburbs. The same thing even happened when the members of close in suburbs moved even further out. So in a way, the church problem is more because of mobility than anything else. One gets out of the habit of going to church so easily. Likewise, I suspect that the fact that (some) people move around a lot reduces the likelihood they would join a social or fraternal organization.

It is remarkable to me that membership in such societies seems to transcend national boundaries, at least to some extent.

 

[LizzieMaine]

My grandfather and great-grandfather were both Knights of Pythias, and I still have bits and piece of their lodge stuff. But lodges, around here, lost ground to "service clubs" like the Rotary, Kiwanis, and Lions in the 1950s, and never recovered. The Masons and Elks are still active here, and I think there's a Knights of Pythias hall the next town over, but that's about it.

The Grange was very big here up until about forty years ago, probably the biggest and most active of the "secret society" groups, and the only one that accepted women as full members, which may account for its vigor. There's been a move lately to revive interest in Grange membership and one of my co-workers joined -- she doesn't say much about it, other than that she got to ride a goat in the initiation ceremony.

A group that was very visible when I was growing up was the Improved Order of Red Men, which had a local "Tribe" with a very active membership. Picture forty or fifty middle-aged, beer-bellied white men dressed up as B-Western Indians marching in the 4th of July Parade while whooping and waving tomahawks. They don't do that anymore, but the Tribe is still active, and is well-known for hosting Beano Nights at their hall.

 

[BlueTrain]

Perhaps all of these fraternal organizations became too middle-class for the new world order. And if they ever were, that might be a reason none of my relatives or my neighbors ever belonged. That sort of class difference even extended to the church you attended and even to which side of town you lived.

 

[ChiTownScion]

The Grange was very big here up until about forty years ago, probably the biggest and most active of the "secret society" groups, and the only one that accepted women as full members, which may account for its vigor. There's been a move lately to revive interest in Grange membership and one of my co-workers joined -- she doesn't say much about it, other than that she got to ride a goat in the initiation ceremony.

You may have been had on this one. Can't speak for the Grange, but stories of having to "ride the goat" are a common joke among seasoned Freemasons to the newbies. A more or less open secret.. but trust me on this: the only goats in my lodge are of the two legged variety.

 

[BlueTrain]

One of our neighbors in my hometown when we lived on the outskirts of town was a member of the Pythian Sisters, most fraternal organizations having some sort of lady's auxiliary. But she was an old widow who still kept a cow and was anything but middle class. Could it be that some of these organizations have become more exclusive than they used to be, at the same time fewer men having any interest in belonging? Or is it simply a matter of these organizations being less visible than they used to be? Men don't belong to unions the way they used to, either.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Perhaps all of these fraternal organizations became too middle-class for the new world order. And if they ever were, that might be a reason none of my relatives or my neighbors ever belonged. That sort of class difference even extended to the church you attended and even to which side of town you lived.

That hierarchy was very true in my town - the bourgeoisie were Congregationalists and the proletarians were Methodists, and there was very little intersection between the two. I never even saw the inside of the Congo Church until we had to go there when the school was evacuated for a bomb threat when I was a junior in high school. I imagined everything inside was made of gold encrusted with precious gems, but was surprised to learn that everything was the same dingy old wood that we had.

Class division also applied to the local service clubs. The bourgeois were Rotarians, the petty-bourgeois were Kiwanians, and the proles were Lions. That structure still seems to exist to this day, at least in this part of the country.

It should be noted that fraternal organizations in the 19th and early 20th centuries provided the only form of insurance available to working-class people. Many people joined them simply to ensure that their families could afford to bury them when they died. Those lodge logos on old gravestones aren't just there for looks -- the lodge paid for them.

 

[BlueTrain]

I hadn't imagined these class distinctions were so obvious to anyone else, in so far as they are.

But none of the necessarily matters in everyday life, when people have contact (not quite associate) with lots of different people. People vary, of course, and some people can be aloof as they can be, while other people are just "plain folks." Some of it is forced, some is genuine and some is phony and there is nothing new about any of it. But relationships like that can be very complicated and things are not always what they seem.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Socioeconomic class distinctions are the fundamental reality of human civilization. Americans like to pretend they aren't, but that's a myth, one that's been exploded time and again by various authors. The divisions of Americans into various degrees of "brows" by Russell Lynes in the late 1940s, the discussion of social class as a motiviational tool exploited by the Boys From Marketing by Vance Packard in the late 1950s, and Paul Fussell's semi-satirical dissection of the American class structure in the 1980s are some of the most illuminating works on this topic. Class structure in America is like cue marks on a film print: you might not notice it until it's pointed out to you, but once you're aware it's there, you can never not see it. It informs everything we do, from the clothes we wear and the food we eat to the places where we live and the way we vote.

One thing I respect about the British is that historically they've been very open-faced about their class system. It exists, and they acknowledge it. Americans have never had that level of candor -- as uncomfortable as we are as a society talking about race, we'd much rather talk about the consequences of race than about the consequences of our class structure.

 

[BlueTrain]

I like to say that it doesn't matter what race you are. But it matters very much who gets to say what race you are.

Class distinctions and what differences it makes vary a lot from place to place, including overseas, and are very complicated. I take it you're referring to high brow, low brow and middle brow, too, which is another layer over top of everything else, although even those terms don't apply to everyone. Many things concerning social structure and criticism are written to be a little funny, like Parkinson's Law, The Peter Principle and my favorite, The Preppy Handbook. The latter has the distinction of actually being taken seriously by those who the book is about. But if most of what is mentioned in those books, especially The Preppy Handbook, wasn't true, they wouldn't be funny. The thing is, you have to be somewhat familiar with real preppies to understand what they're talking about and to see the humor in it.

Another thing is that most of us actually live in more than one world, in a manner of speaking. In my case, for instance, I have a life that centers around work and all the people I see here everyday. They are a varied lot but most are rather like me; college educated, white collar and mostly local in origin. My boss, on the other hand, has a master's and grew up in Africa. Another colleague is from Brooklyn, although she grew up on Long Island. Coincidentally, she and another coworker graduated from the same little college on Long island. Another is from Israel. And we have carpenters, cabinetmakers and warehouse workers, too. And one of the cabinetmakers and myself are the only veterans who work here.

Away from work where it may be said I have no life, I have a totally different set of acquaintances, most of whom are relatives, mostly my wife's. A totally different set of rules apply and the things we have in common, insofar as we do, are different. As it happens, I have more relatives who served in the armed forces than coworkers, including the radical priest in the family. All families should have a radical priest, not to mention a lesbian cousin, a foreigner or two (in our case, Serbian and Korean), an attorney (or two), a secret agent, someone married to an Olsen (no real achievement), men who like to cook and descendants of Civil War generals (either side is fine). It makes for very interesting family gatherings and to think I had none of this before I left home.

 

[Fading Fast]

Like Blue Train and, I imagine, many of us, I "live" in many different worlds and encounter people of many different background - race, religion, cultural, economic, etc. - regularly. As I believe we've been taught, I try to respect all of those different worlds and acclimated myself and my approach accordingly.

I don't fake who I am, but will be more of a "talk about sports" guy when that's the prevailing chat, I'll keep it to business if that's the norm, I'll talk about how we keep expenses down at home or where we like to go on vacation to or what have you if that's the group's dynamic. Also, if I don't know about something, I won't fake it at all and will, if it seems appropriate, ask about whatever it is.

So I could be talking with the building staff about what their church socials are like or (since I'm in finance and meet some stupidly wealthy people) asking about the insurance risks of owning a private jet. I've been told I have good "people" skills, but in truth, I don't think I do anything other than try to fit in, be respectful, don't fake it (ever) and ask about what the other person is interested in (and, hopefully, you are truly interested in learning about).

Hence, when I think about "class," I don't even fully get it as it seems all over the place to me. I know day workers who golf, millionaires who are aggressive bargain shoppers, people of modest means who put on heirs and wealthy people are are incredibly down to earth.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Well, I don't have any generals, or commissioned military officers of any kind (unless the Merchant Marine counts as military, which it didn't at the time) in the family tree, but I did have a great great uncle who was shot to death in the street in an argument over his Civil War draft status. And a great-great grandfather who was killed by a can of spoiled clams at an Epworth League picinic. And a great-grandfather who was a lighthouse keeper, and had a genuine Long John Silver style peg leg, upon which he encouraged his cats to sharpen their claws.

I myself am the Family Radical. We're all pretty pink, but I'm the pinkest. My niece is giving me a run for my money, though. I suspect that her goal one day is to be clubbed by a New York cop during a protest and hauled into jail.

As for foreigners, one of my great-great grandmothers was French-Italian, which, legend has it, was a volcanic and dangerous combination. The suspicion is that I inherited my temper, and my moustache, from her.

My father's true ancestry is unknown. He was not, I am told, the son of the man whose name is on his birth certificate, and his true paternity is one of the great mysteries. He was a shortish, coarse-haired, swarthy-skinned fellow who always claimed to be part Indian -- everybody in Maine claims to be part Indian -- but a more honest appraisal of his features suggests a Middle Eastern or possibly Eastern European origin.

No lawyers, doctors, or clergymen anywhere in the family tree -- although we do have a Salem witch -- and no college degrees at any level. But we do have quite a few longshoremen, including the first female longshoreman ever seen in this part of the country. She helped teach me to swear.

We did have a lot of talented musicians in the family. My grandfather led a small dance orchestra in the 1930s, playing lodge halls, tea dances, and wharves, and had been a skilled trumpet player until someone on the docks objected to an opinion he expressed and punched him in the mouth. He then switched to the drums for the rest of his musical career. My grandmother played the ukulele, and my mother recently took up that instrument. She also plays the piano by ear. My uncle strummed around a bit with a guitar, but his real musical gift was his ability to fart at will to any melody named. I used to play the clarinet, but what skill I had has long since evaporated. I can whistle very well, though, and can play "The Internationale" on the ocarina.

No lesbians in the family that I know of, although there was certainly talk around town about The Female Longshoreman. She was married, but oppressed her sad drunk of a husband terribly, and when he died she never bothered to try again.

As for co-workers, one of my closest friends is a Christian Scientist, and another was raised in the John Birch Society. That's about as wide a gamut as it's possible to run, I think. That gamut aside, though, we're all of the same basic social class.

 

[BlueTrain]

Mustache? You mean, uh, well, uh, you know, I think you'd probably be a good aunt to someone.

Most families and most communities usually have a lot more variety than is generally appreciated. Sometimes you don't really learn about it until it's too late, although that can be good or that can be bad. My family name is anglicized German but most of my ancestors came from England, including the one with the German name (the family having lived in England for all of two generations). And all of them came before 1800. And I'm still not a native American in today's terms. However, since I moved away from home before I was old enough to vote, I'm not so attached to any particular place, not even "home." Everyone there that I grew up with or around has either died or moved away, which is what I did. So, in a sense, home isn't there anymore in any sense of the word. My closest aunt and uncle who lived across the street when I was little moved all of fifteen miles away. Their son still lives there where they moved by my aunt and uncle are gone and when I visit, there is something missing and it isn't the same anymore. But I'm not really experiencing anything that every generation before me experienced.

Concerning those Norman Rockwell illustrations again, there is one of a man in a leather jacket standing up in what appears to be a New England town meeting. They don't have those anywhere I've lived. Supposedly it was based on a real-life moment in town that Rockwell captured in a painting. But the reality was, the man standing up to speak was wearing a suit and was not a rough-handed working man wearing a leather jacket. That's the way I heard it, anyway.

Except for school teachers, I did not grow up knowing college educated people. My father, who did not finish grade school, and the fathers of all my friends and relatives were all working men. Most worked for the railroad. My father drove a truck, another worked for a heating & air conditioning firm, another was a linesman for the power company and so on. One man, who had been a teacher in a one room school, and a preacher on Sunday, was the only one whoever told me anything about college. He said to get all my classes in the morning so I'd have my afternoons free. Well, I missed more of those morning classes than I attended. That was bad advice. And by the way, they were still building one-room schools in West Virginia in the 1950s. Today they use four-wheel drive school busses instead.