Neil Neddermeyer

The Old Master's Wages
Perhaps He’s Dead
Disillusioned
Limerick
A Mason From North Dakota
Spring Cleaning

A wonderful piece from ~~the Junior Grand Warden of~~ the Grand Lodge of Minnesota. He wrote this in 1979.
gsl.

The Old Master's Wages

I meet a dear old man today
Who wore a Masonic pin,
It was old and faded like the man,
Its edges were worn quite thin.

I approached the park bench where he sat
To give the old brother his due.
I said, "I see you’ve traveled east"
He said, "I have, have you?"

I said, I have and in my day
Before the all-seeing sun
I played in the rubble with Jubala,
Jubilo, and Jubalum.

He scolded, "Don’t laugh at the work my boy,
It’s good and it's sweet and it's true;
And if you’ve traveled as you said
You should give these things a due.

"The word, the sign, the token,
The sweet Masonic prayer,
The vow that all have taken
Who have climbed the inner stair.

"The wages of a Mason
are never paid in gold,
but the gain comes from contentment
When you’re weak and growing old.

"You see I’ve carried my obligations
For almost fifty years.
It has helped me through the hardships,
and the failures full of tears.

"I’m now losing my mind and my body
Death is near, but I don’t despair.
I’ve lived my life upon the level,
And I’ll die upon the square."

Sometimes the greatest lessons
Are those that are learned anew.
And the old man in the park today
Has changed my point of view.

To all Masonic brothers
The only secret is to care.
May you live upon the level.
May you part upon the square.

Perhaps He’s Dead

I was playing with the Shriner’s band: in a small town, hot parade.
We had stopped to drink a thank you: for the tunes that we had played.
A hand was placed upon my back: by a women with a crutch.
As I turned I saw a pretty face,: and a smile came with that touch.
She told about a tear that came: when she saw the Shriner’s band;
And how she remembed one Shriner: who had helped her once to stand
“I was in the Shriner Hospital: I was frightened – I was low
When an old man in a silly red hat: showed me that he loved me so.”
“He visited me every Sunday: for possibly two years.
He shared my pain and laughter,: my joys, my thoughts, my tears.”
“He must be in his nineties now,: well no, perhaps he’s dead.
But he did come to my wedding: to watch me stand, when I was wed.”
“I wanted to keep in contact: with him for all my life,
But I’m too busy being a mother,: and I’m too busy being a wife.”
“I just wanted to stop and thank you: for the things that he had done
To make my life more meaningful,: to give my life some fun.”
I watched her hobble off,: as I stepped from the band.
I saw her husband and her kids,: and the crutch in her right hand.
I felt guilty for taking credit: for the Shriner who was strong but mild.
He knew no man stands straighter: Then when he stoops to help a child.
I thought, some forty years from now: when a Shriner takes a bow,
Will he be thanked for something: that I am doing now?
Will they say that I was noble,: that my silly hat was red?
Will they say “he’s in his nineties now,: well no, perhaps he’s dead.”

1986

A bit of background may be needed for this poem. There are several Grand Lodges in France. The 3 main ones are the Grand Orient of France, which admits women and does not require a Volume of Sacred Law (VSL) to be on the altar; the Grand Lodge of France (GLdF) which does not admit women and does require the VSL, but has had recognition dropped by most English-speaking GLs since the 1960s; and the Grand Lodge National of France (GLNF) which is generally recognized. In March of 2001 the Grand Lodge of Minnesota voted to recognize the GLdF. This caused a furor in some U.S. Grand Lodges, with some even severing recognition with Minnesota. Brother Neddermeyer drew the short straw, and became Grand Master for the following year!
okl.

Disillusioned

My appointment to the Grand Lodge line
Is something I hold dear.
I look forward to the fulfilling
Of my Grand Master year.

The attention and the honors
And the kudos given me;
And entrance to the circle
Of leaders yet to be.

I planned, I worked, I prepared myself
With nothing left to chance.
I never once did think about
A damn Grand Lodge in France!

I love the Eiffel Tower,
The Louvre and French Canooks;
Joan of Arc, the Arc d'Triumph,
And those chubby old French cooks;

I love champagne and Charlemagne,
French kissing, toast, and fries,
French Guinea, and Quebec;
But that’s not where the trouble lies.

To think a Minnesota boy
Would regret a moral stance.
I never once did think about
The damn Grand Lodge in France!

And now the world is reeling,
And Minnesota stands alone.
Michigan and several others
Have said, “Just stay at home.”

Who knew of the maligning?
Who knew we took a chance,
For us to start aligning
With a damn Grand Lodge in France?

It’s a shame we’re in such trouble.
It’s a shame we’re in this trench.
It’s a shame that beautiful country
Is so wasted on the French!

2003

Limerick

We Masons have been told before
We might cease to exist any more;: By staying the same; We risk changing our name
By transforming the "as" to an "or". Mar., 2008

Neil writes on June 27, 2008: "I am a PGM of Minnesota but I am also currently serving as the Grand Orator of the Grand Lodge of North Dakota. Two weeks ago I gave an oration in verse about the attributes of North Dakota Masons. The guys from ND seemed to really like it..." as did we, and even if you're not from North Dakota, we think you will, too.

A Mason From North Dakota

There’s a man from North Dakota who its citizens applaud
He’s a husband and a father and a humble man of God.
His hands are hard and callused, and his skin’s as tough as leather
From the harshness of his work, and the strain of unkind weather.
He is honest, he’s hardworking, he’s not seeking any fame
He’s a North Dakota Mason — and he’s proud of his good name.

He’s subdued, and he’s stoic, but his heart is made of gold
And he’s learned to pull his collar up as protection from the cold.
He discusses not his politics in the presence of a Brother
But his love for his country and its flag is strong as any other.
He’s learned wisdom, strength, and beauty, and more things than he can tell
From the teachings of the gentle Craft, and he’s learned his lessons well.
The lectures and the teachings written on his trestle board
Are still locked within his heart, guarded by the Tiler’s sword.

Patience and perseverance are skills every farmer knows
And here in North Dakota, every man must face his woes.
It’s Tolerance that teaches him to hold his head up high
And treat no man as a lesser man, ‘neath the North Dakota sky.
He knows that he can change the world by changing only himself
It determines his good character, his success, and his lasting health.

He was not told how smooth his ashlar be, or at least not by the letter
But that each man must strive to make his own life that much better.
He was not told what his faith should be, but to consider his own belief
He was taught the lessons of Brotherly Love, Truth, Charity and Relief.
He was not taught how to divide his time, with a 24 hour gage,
But a balanced life will serve him well, as he reaches his old age.
He was not told how long his cable tow or to conduct his life with beauty
But it’s a Mason’s responsibility to perform his earthly duty.

You can tell him by this attitude for he knows how to behave
When you meet him on that gravel road, he gives that index finger wave.
He may not be the richest man and be blessed with earthly wealth
But he’s loyal to his family, to his Lodge and to himself.
He is quiet, strong and dignified, by his kids he is adored
Like a single ear of sparkling corn, hung by a water ford.
To keep his apron clean and pure, he will always do his best
With the instructive tongue, the attentive ear and the true and faithful breast.

It’s Fortitude that teaches him to be tough and thicker skinned
And face the world with bravery, as he leans into the wind.
It’s Prudence that teaches him to give his best regards
As he holds a little something back and quietly breasts his cards.
Temperance teaches moderation in every thing he’ll do
To seek restraint and self-control — and to himself be true.
The quest for Justice is vital for his nation to profess
Tempered with compassion, he will stand for nothing less.

This Mason has his roots down deep and a positive attitude
Like the amber waves of grain he grows to feed the multitude.
He knows that up in heaven, that All Seeing Eye
Watches through the clouded canopy of the North Dakota sky.

The square teaches honesty, and that seems somewhat forthright
As he’s always known the difference concerning wrong and right.
The level teaches tolerance and equality through action
That all of us are equal, the majority as well as the faction.
The plumb teaches uprightness and confidence in stance.
He’s a man to be reckoned with; you can tell that at a glance.
The compass teaches him morality in thought and word and deed
Drawing the circle of limitation that no man should exceed.
The trowel cements the Fraternity with the mortar of Brotherly love
Guiding his life with hope and charity — with help from up above.

He has a strong sense of duty, lives a life with no regret
With a simple indication like “you know”, “ya sure”, “you bet”.
He gladly gives assistance to a Brother without a plead
To his widow and his orphan, he will always serve their need.
And he’ll protect his family from his cradle to his tomb
Like the sharp thorn of a prairie rose, defending its precious bloom.

These Masons aid each other in times of true distress
Foot to foot to help a Brother, his troubles to suppress.
They remember all their Brothers in their adorations to God
Knee to knee they ask for guidance and healing where they’re flawed.
Hand to back they support each other and are ready to heed the call
To give relief and charity if a Brother starts to fall.
Breast to breast a Brother’s secrets are kept well deep inside
Being a man who can be trusted; one in whom you can confide.
Mouth to ear he must be willing to point out a Brother’s faults
Aid him in his reformation and praise the end results.

As the sun that rules the day, and the moon that rules the night
He will rule his own dominion, seeking grace and seeking Light.
He has thanked his Maker daily since the day that he was born
He can see through a deceiver — and he knows the price of corn.

The setting maul, grave and coffin, with acacia at the head
Are signs the sands have run their course — and he at last is dead.
When he knows his time is at an end and he’s made his peace with God
He’ll say goodbye to his family — and on Heaven's path he’ll trod.
His column might be broken, but he still will have a friend
Since North Dakota Masons are loyal to the end.
For when his journey’s ended, and his time on earth is done
We’ll walk the path together — all the way to Kingdom come.

From Williston to Fargo, you’ll find men who do what’s right
From Grand Forks back to Minot, there are men who share the Light.
He is upright and well-mannered; he will neither cheat nor lie
He’s bonded to his Brothers by the Mason’s mystic tie.
He’ll love every worthy Brother and for his country do his best
With his hand upon the Bible, square and compass on his breast.
He’ll be tolerant, he’ll be faithful, he’ll be upright, and he’ll live free
He’s the Mason from North Dakota — seeking Light,

so mote it be.

Spring Cleaning

She's cleaning out his closet; it's not the first time that she tried,
But this time she's going to do it; it's been six months since he died.
She can smell her husband's after shave, he'd always used Old Spice;
She remembers how he loved her so, and made their life so nice.: "Is this what life is all about? If it is, it feels like hell; To search my husband's closet and decide if he'd done well.; If he hadn't been a Mason we'd have had a few more bucks;; He would not have bought this Shrine fez; he would not have owned this tux.; "I'll give his ties to our son-in-law, the suits I'll give to the Goodwill.; It's so hard for me to remember he's gone; it seems like he's with me still.; If he hadn't been a Mason would our time have been less grand?; Would I still have given my life to him when he asked me for my hand?; "Here's his Masonic pocket watch; every hour it would chime; When he was with his brothers, he was always home on time.; And here's his Scottish Rite ring, and here's his York Rite pin;; Oh how I miss his laughter, oh how I miss his grin.; "And to me a list of promises; what an odd thing for him to save;; I think I'll ask him about it, the next time I visit his grave.; He had always kept his word to me; he would never cheat or lie;; I thought he'd live forever, I thought he'd never die.; "And here's his coded ritual with its secrets locked inside;; And here's his clean white apron! We couldn't find it when he died.; And here's his dad's Masonic pin; I'll keep it just in case,; So when our son is older, he might take his father's place.; "I remember at the funeral his brothers held me snug –; Where are all those Masons now I could use just one more hug?; Did the fact he was a Mason make him a better man?; Did Masonic obligations make him follow some life's plan?"
She was doing her spring cleaning, just like she always had,
But this year is for remembering, this year is more than sad.
Did it really make him better? It is hard to understand,
But he had become a Mason; and he was a better man.
You just know she'll keep a few things; his apron, that list, and his ring;
You know that she'll remember him, while cleaning every spring.

July, 2008

Neil Neddermeyer