ODD-FELLOWSHIP IN ATCHISON.

Address delivered October 18th, 1887, at the celebration of the

thirtieth anniversary of Friendship Lodge, I. O. O. F., Atchison.

MR. CHAIRMAN: Thirty years ago, yesterday, Friendship Lodge, No. 5, I.

O. O. F., was organized, under a charter granted by the Sovereign Grand

Lodge of the United States. Its charter members were Cornelius A. Logan,

Edward K. Blair, A. J. Petefish, Alex. McKewn, and James Dillon. Nearly

two years later, in 1859, the first official report of the Grand Lodge

of the State shows a membership of thirty-eight, fifteen by initiation

and nine by card. So that its total membership, at the date of its

organization, must have been fourteen.

The meetings of the lodge, when I was admitted to membership, early in

1860, were held in an odd-looking cottonwood building near the corner of

Commercial and Eighth streets. And Eighth street, at that time, was out

in the country. There were no pavements in those days, and the streets

were quagmires. Reaching the lot on which the hall was located, you

found the building oddly placed upon its rear half, and approached by an

odd-looking cottonwood bridge, spanning a deep ravine, and nearly always

in a condition of general dilapidation and decay. Passing over this

bridge—and on dark nights it was a passage attended with fear and

trembling—you reached the building. Then, oddly still, you had to go

around it, to the rear, where an odd, rickety, cottonwood stairway,

built on stilts, led to the second story. The steps of this stairway had

an odd habit of turning up, unexpectedly, and the victims of this

perverse disposition were inclined to declare, in their wrath, that

never again, until that infernal old man-trap was fixed, would they

attend another lodge meeting.

Reaching a platform at the head of the stairway, you passed into the

ante-room—a room about as large as a good-sized dry-goods box; and

thence made your way into the lodge-room.

We confidently believed, in those old days, that it was a comfortable

and commodious place. In reality, it was not more than one-third the

size of the present lodge-room. It was dimly lighted by coal-oil lamps;

its floor was covered with the oddest—not to say the most

atrocious—pattern of a carpet ever woven; and the tawdry hangings of

ten-cent red-and-blue chintz over the officers’ chairs were agonizing in

their cheap affectation of adornment. The walls were rough, and black

with smoke, until the lodges finally, in a moment of puffed-up wealth,

covered them with wall-paper whose figures must have conveyed to the

initiate, when his eyes were first opened to the light, the impression

that a house-painter’s apprentice had essayed high art, and ended, in a

fit of disgust, by hurling his paint pots and brushes at the canvas.

This old lodge room had a roof which, like that of the Arkansas

gentleman, didn’t leak when it didn’t rain and couldn’t be mended when

it did rain. Some one of the Masonic brethren—who met in the same

room—had been prowling about in the loft, and, making a misstep, had

left in the ceiling a ragged, yawning hole. This served, for years, to

impress outsiders, on occasions like the present, with the suspicion

that some mysterious and perhaps awful event had occasioned that break.

Repairs were rarely made, for the very excellent reason that the

treasury of the lodge, in those days, resembled the pocketbook of a

tramp. There was no danger of defalcations, and an official bond was

entirely superfluous.

It is not my purpose, however, to abuse that venerable lodge-room. It

was a pleasant place, notwithstanding its numerous deficiencies, for it

was warmed and lighted by the true spirit of Odd-Fellowship. The

brethren who came there, did so because they enjoyed the meetings. They

had for each other a genuine feeling of mutual regard. They did not

quarrel over non-essentials; they valued each other’s good name, and

took a sincere pleasure in the prosperity or success achieved by any one

of their number, in any vocation or pursuit. The town was a straggling

cottonwood village, but they had an abounding faith in its destiny;

their lodge was weak and poor, but they had unfaltering confidence in

its future. I think some of the most pleasant meetings I have ever known

were those held in that old lodge-room.

The war came, and its fierce enthusiasm swept nearly all of the younger

members into the army. The years that followed were indeed dark and

perilous to Friendship Lodge. I was told, when peace dawned on the land

again, that frequently, for months in succession, a quorum could not be

obtained for a meeting; that when the Grand Lodge dues were payable, a

few of the members had to advance them; and that when the semi-annual

election nights came around, it was frequently difficult to find enough

members to fill the offices—an odd-enough thing, even in Odd-Fellowship.

With the return of peace came better times for the old lodge. The town

began to grow, and the order kept pace with it. Its roll of members

rapidly lengthened, and in a few years there was talk of removal to more

commodious quarters. These were obtained, after much discussion, in the

third story of the building on Second street, now the St. James Hotel,

and on the 17th of March, 1868, the new lodge room was formally

dedicated in the presence of a large assemblage of members, with their

wives and daughters.

Less than a month after this removal, on the 7th of April, the lodge, by

resolution, granted permission to its German members to withdraw and

organize a new lodge, and shortly thereafter Schiller Lodge was duly

organized.

The two lodges met, for five years, in the hall on Second street. But in

1873, another change occurred. A large and beautiful room in the

building on the corner of Commercial and Sixth streets, was leased for a

term of years, elegantly fitted up, and dedicated, with appropriate

ceremonies.

Ten years later, in 1883, the building of the present Odd Fellows’

Temple was commenced, and on the 20th of November, 1884, it was formally

dedicated. It is an enduring monument to the enterprise and public

spirit of the Odd Fellows of Atchison. It is worth fully twenty-five

thousand dollars, and the debt contracted in building it has been, in

less than three years, almost extinguished. The lodge has one hundred

and forty-four members in good standing, and its future prosperity is

assured.

One of the charter members of Friendship Lodge, and its first Noble

Grand, Dr. C. A. Logan, attained the highest position known in

Odd-Fellowship, that of Grand Sire of the United States and Canada; and

afterwards represented this country, with distinguished usefulness, as

Minister Plenipotentiary to Chili. Others of its members have filled

many official positions of dignity and importance. Two of its members,

John M. Price and Charles H. Krebs, have been Grand Masters of the Order

in Kansas; two, Samuel H. Kelsey and your speaker, have been Grand

Patriarchs of the Grand Encampment; and two, John M. Price and S. H.

Kelsey, have frequently been elected delegates to the Sovereign Grand

Lodge of the World. Eleven of the eighteen Mayors of this city have been

members of Friendship Lodge, and its rolls have always included a very

large number of our most prominent and public-spirited citizens, engaged

in all branches of business. The whole history of Friendship Lodge has

been creditable to the Order and its principles, and it is to-day one of

the most prosperous lodges in the West.

I have neither the time nor the disposition to discuss the principles,

influence, and aims of Odd-Fellowship. The Order needs neither defense

nor eulogy. I have never believed that initiation in any secret society,

no matter what its principles or purposes might be, would make a good

man out of a person who is inherently mean, vicious, or depraved. But

the vast majority of men are not naturally bad, and a very large

proportion of those whose lives are hopelessly wrecked, fall because of

their surroundings. Pliant and weak, they are insensibly but

irresistibly swept into wrong-doing and vice by the force of example and

associations. Upon this class of men, I do sincerely believe, such

societies as the Independent Order of Odd Fellows exert a restraining,

reforming, and always wholesome influence. The lessons taught in the

ritual, the principles on which the Order is based, the virtues that are

constantly exalted in every ceremony of Odd-Fellowship, and, above all,

the strengthening and inspiring associations of the lodge-room—all these

wholesome influences must exert, upon the minds and hearts of Odd

Fellows, and especially upon the younger members, a strong and helpful

control. Every lesson and precept of Odd-Fellowship exalts the homely

virtues of industry, frugality, truth, benevolence, kindliness to

others, fidelity to duty, respect for law, and consideration for the

rights of all men. True Odd-Fellowship exalts manhood, enjoins sobriety,

demands charity, inspires patriotism, and teaches the universal

Fatherhood of God and Brotherhood of man. No man can be a good Odd

Fellow who is not a good citizen, a true husband, father, son, and

brother, a helpful friend, and a truthful, sober, kindly, honest, and

industrious man.

I do not assert that all these virtues can be said to distinguish all

Odd Fellows. Members of the order are only human. They have the same

passions and self-control, the same strength and weaknesses, the same

virtues and frailties, that are common to the whole human race. But I do

assert that membership in the Order—its teachings, its principles, the

noble examples it is constantly exalting, and the virtues it holds up as

the best and highest qualities of humanity—cannot fail to exert a

beneficent influence upon the lives and conduct of its members. I

believe Friendship Lodge has exerted such an influence upon many men. It

has aided them to see the right, and influenced them to do right, often,

perhaps, when they did not themselves realize the subtle but powerful

control of its teachings. It has been a useful organization in this

community, and such, I fervently hope and trust, it will ever be. Its

old members, I am sure, have only pleasant memories of its past; its

younger members will, I believe, find equal enjoyment and profit in its

future growth and usefulness.

Addresses: by John A. Martin. Delivered in Kansas. · 第 141 / 195 题