The Senior DeMolay Test: Did the Lessons Survive the Organization?

It has been some time since I have written for this blog. This blog originally grew out of my involvement with our local DeMolay chapter and my desire to tell some of the remarkable stories associated with DeMolay. I wrote about its history, its principles, and Senior DeMolays whose lives took them into military service, government, business, athletics, literature, and even space.

Much has changed since then. Our local chapter has become inactive and will probably eventually close. There is sadness in writing those words because anyone who has invested time in a youth organization understands that a chapter is more than a charter hanging on a wall. It is young people and parents, advisors and meetings, dinners and trips, ceremonies and friendships. It is successes, mistakes, lessons learned, and memories accumulated over years.

For a while, I wondered whether an inactive chapter meant there was little reason to continue this blog. I have reached the opposite conclusion. I intend to continue writing here about DeMolay, its history, its principles, its remarkable alumni, and the importance of supporting DeMolay wherever chapters continue to give young men opportunities to grow. A local chapter becoming inactive does not make the ideas behind DeMolay irrelevant. Indeed, watching a chapter disappear has caused me to think more seriously about what the organization was supposed to accomplish in the first place.

Perhaps the best way to measure DeMolay is not simply by counting active chapters or members. Perhaps we should look instead at the men who walked out of those chapter rooms and ask what happened to the lessons they learned there. That brings me to a question I have been thinking about for some time: Did the lessons survive the organization?

The Senior DeMolay Test

Over the years, I have written on this blog about some extraordinary Senior DeMolays. Frank Borman commanded Apollo 8, the first crewed mission to orbit the Moon. Edgar Mitchell walked on the Moon during Apollo 14. Lance Sijan became one of the great stories of courage and resistance to emerge from the Vietnam War. Colonel James "Nick" Rowe survived more than five years as a prisoner of war, escaped captivity, and later helped develop the U.S. Army's survival, evasion, resistance, and escape training.

There have been Senior DeMolays who became governors and members of Congress, military commanders and businessmen, entertainers, athletes, writers, and community leaders. Those are interesting stories, and they are worth preserving. But celebrity is not character, and accomplishment is not necessarily evidence of virtue. The more interesting question is not how famous these men became or how high they climbed. It is what kind of men they became along the way.

That distinction is important because I do not believe we can look at the life of an accomplished Senior DeMolay and simply credit DeMolay for what followed. DeMolay did not make Frank Borman an astronaut, and it did not create Lance Sijan's courage. Human beings are shaped by families, teachers, faith, education, military service, friends, mentors, opportunities, disappointments, failures, successes, and countless other experiences. Ultimately, they are also shaped by their own choices.

The better question is whether something taught during those formative years remained. When we look at the adult man, can we recognize some of the values that were placed before the boy? That, to me, is the Senior DeMolay test.

What Was DeMolay Trying to Do?

DeMolay describes its mission in terms of developing leadership and character in young men. Its educational materials emphasize something particularly important: young men are expected to participate in decisions, plan and carry out activities, accept responsibilities, and learn through actually doing things rather than merely listening to adults tell them how leadership works.

That distinction matters because leadership cannot be learned entirely from a book, and neither can responsibility. A young man learns something different when he has to stand before a room and speak. He learns something when he is responsible for planning an event and discovers that other people are depending upon him. He learns something when he has to work with someone he does not particularly like, and he learns something when the plan he was certain would work falls apart.

Perhaps he learns even more when the adults around him resist the temptation to immediately rescue him.

DeMolay provides young men with increasing responsibilities within the chapter and opportunities to practice public speaking, event planning, parliamentary procedure, committee work, organizational leadership, and service. On paper, some of these may sound like relatively mundane skills. Years later, when the young man is sitting in a business meeting, leading military personnel, running his own company, organizing a community project, or simply trying to resolve a disagreement within his family, they do not seem mundane at all.

What I Have Seen

For me, this is not merely a historical question because I have watched some of it happen. Within our own DeMolay chapter, I watched boys become young men and then begin moving into the adult world in remarkable ways. Some have gone into business and become business owners. One has gone to work in the space program. Others have chosen to serve in our nation's military. Still others have begun careers and lives whose stories are only starting to be written.

I would never claim that DeMolay alone made them the men they became. That would give the organization credit that properly belongs to many people, beginning with their parents. Teachers, coaches, faith, friends, education, mentors, individual experiences, successes, disappointments, and the young men's own decisions all contributed to their development.

But I have also talked with their parents. Two parents in particular have told me that they believe DeMolay played a significant role in forging their sons' character as they made that complicated journey from boyhood into manhood. That has stayed with me because I watched some of that process from the other side of the room.

I watched young men learn to stand before others and speak. I watched them accept responsibilities and work together. I watched them succeed at some things and stumble through others. I watched adult men mentor them without attempting to replace their fathers, and I watched boys gradually become more confident about making decisions, accepting responsibility, and taking their place among other men.

The role of an advisor was never supposed to be manufacturing a young man in his own image. At its best, the adult advisor is a mentor, a resource, an example, and occasionally the person who asks the young man what he intends to do about the problem he has just created. The responsibility still belongs to the young man. In a world in which adults can sometimes be too quick to organize every moment of a young person's life, there is considerable value in simply saying: Here is the responsibility. Let's see what you can do with it.

The Seven Lessons

DeMolay traditionally organizes its moral instruction around seven Cardinal Virtues: filial love, reverence for sacred things, courtesy, comradeship, fidelity, cleanness, and patriotism. The terminology can sound old-fashioned in the twenty-first century, but perhaps that is part of its value. Strip away the ceremonial language and the principles are surprisingly straightforward.

Respect the people who raised you and recognize the debt you owe them. Understand that there are things larger and more important than yourself. Treat other people with courtesy. Be a friend and understand what friendship requires. Keep faith with others and honor your commitments. Exercise discipline over your own conduct. Accept some responsibility for the community and country in which you live.

These are lessons presented to adolescents, but adolescence is not where they are ultimately tested. The real examination comes later, when keeping a promise becomes inconvenient, loyalty carries a cost, responsibility cannot be handed to somebody else, and doing the right thing is considerably more difficult than talking about it.

Lance Sijan and the Meaning of Fidelity

Consider Senior DeMolay Lance Sijan. A United States Air Force pilot, Sijan was forced to eject from his crippled aircraft over North Vietnam in November 1967. Terribly injured, he nevertheless survived alone for weeks before being captured. He briefly escaped, was recaptured, and endured brutal imprisonment before dying in captivity in January 1968. He was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor.

It would be irresponsible to suggest that DeMolay created Lance Sijan's courage. His family, his education, his training at the United States Air Force Academy, his military service, his fellow servicemen, his personal convictions, and something extraordinary within Sijan himself all contributed to the man who faced those circumstances.

Yet DeMolay had once placed before that young man the concept of fidelity. Years later, fidelity was no longer a word spoken during a ceremony in a chapter room. Under circumstances few human beings will ever experience, the idea of remaining faithful to others and to one's obligations became terribly real. We cannot claim that DeMolay created what followed, but we can recognize something in the adult man that had once been presented as an ideal to the boy.

James "Nick" Rowe and Perseverance

The same caution should apply to Colonel James "Nick" Rowe, another Senior DeMolay whose story I have previously explored. Rowe graduated from West Point and became a United States Army officer. Captured in Vietnam in 1963, he endured more than five years as a prisoner before escaping in 1968. He later used what he had learned under horrific circumstances to help develop training intended to give future American servicemembers a better chance of surviving captivity.

Again, DeMolay cannot claim his accomplishments, nor should it try. What we can do is look at his life and ask whether we see something recognizable in it: service, fidelity, comradeship, patriotism, perseverance, and a sense of responsibility toward those who would come after him.

Perhaps we are seeing nothing more than virtues shared by many good people who never belonged to DeMolay. But that is precisely the point. DeMolay never owned those virtues. It simply tried to teach them to young men at an age when ideas about character were beginning to take shape.

The Problem With Famous Senior DeMolays

There is a danger in telling only stories about men such as Sijan, Rowe, Borman, and Mitchell. We can accidentally create the impression that DeMolay succeeds when a boy becomes famous, wealthy, powerful, or historically important. That cannot possibly be the standard.

For every Senior DeMolay who walked on the Moon, became a general, entered Congress, won an Olympic medal, or built a major company, there were thousands whose names will never appear in a history book. They became fathers and husbands, teachers and police officers, soldiers and mechanics, business owners and accountants, firefighters, clergymen, tradesmen, coaches, and neighbors.

They went to work every morning and raised children. They took care of aging parents. They coached youth sports, volunteered at churches and community organizations, served on committees and school boards, helped friends move, sat beside hospital beds, attended funerals, paid mortgages, kept promises, and tried to leave their communities a little better than they found them.

Maybe that is where the Senior DeMolay test matters most. Character should not require an audience, and if the values of DeMolay mattered only when they produced famous men, the organization would have failed almost everyone who passed through its doors. Its greater contribution may be found in thousands of ordinary lives lived honorably.

Did the Lessons Survive?

There is no scientific experiment that can answer that question. We cannot take a 50-year-old man and separate his DeMolay experience from his parents, education, marriage, career, military service, friendships, faith, triumphs, tragedies, and every other experience that shaped him. Nor should we try.

Instead, perhaps we should look for echoes. Did comradeship become lifelong loyalty and friendship? Did courtesy become respect for other people? Did fidelity become dependability? Did patriotism become service rather than simply a slogan? Did cleanness become self-discipline? Did reverence become humility before something greater than oneself? Did filial love eventually become the adult realization that our parents knew considerably more than we thought they did when we were sixteen?

Those are much more interesting measures than titles or awards because they can be applied equally to an astronaut and an accountant, a general and a mechanic, a governor and a father quietly raising his children.

When the Chapter Is Gone

That brings me back to our own chapter. It is painful to watch something in which people invested so much time become inactive. There will be records somewhere, photographs will survive, and old programs, pins, awards, and pieces of regalia will undoubtedly end up in drawers or boxes. Eventually, someone may take a charter off a wall.

But the young men are still out there.

One is working in the space program. Others are serving their country. Some are building businesses, and others are beginning careers, families, and adult lives that may stretch another half-century into the future. The chapter may disappear, but they will not.

That realization changes how I think about the closing of a DeMolay chapter. If the purpose of DeMolay were simply to perpetuate DeMolay chapters, then every chapter that closes would represent complete failure. But that was never the mission. The mission was the young men.

If they learned to speak when they were afraid to stand in front of a room, something survived. If they learned to accept responsibility after making a mistake, something survived. If they learned that leadership means service rather than possessing a title, something survived. If an adult advisor said or did something that a young man remembered ten or twenty years later when facing a difficult decision, something survived.

The future we talked about when they were boys eventually arrived. We are seeing some of it now.

The Real Senior DeMolay Test

Perhaps the Senior DeMolay test cannot really be administered until years after a young man leaves the chapter. We have to wait until life begins asking the questions for us. What happens when keeping his word becomes inconvenient? How does he treat someone who can do absolutely nothing for him? Does he accept responsibility when something goes wrong? Can other people depend upon him? Can he lead without needing a title and follow when someone else has the better idea? Does he have the courage to stand alone when necessary? Does he contribute something to his family, profession, community, or country?

Those questions are harder than asking whether someone once wore a DeMolay pin or memorized a part in a ritual. They also seem to me to be much closer to what the organization was trying to accomplish.

Our chapter may close. Other chapters undoubtedly will too, while hopefully new ones will open. DeMolay will continue to change, just as every organization that survives from one generation to another must change. I will continue writing about it here. I will continue telling the stories of Senior DeMolays, exploring the history and principles of the organization, and writing about why DeMolay deserves the support of adults willing to give young men opportunities to lead, fail, recover, serve, and grow.

After watching young men from our own chapter move into adulthood, I have come to believe that the most important DeMolay story may actually begin after a young man leaves.

A chapter can close and a charter can disappear. The meetings can end and the chapter room can become quiet. But if the lessons became habits, and those habits helped forge character, then something remains long after the organization that taught them is gone.

Perhaps the ultimate product of DeMolay was never the chapter.

Perhaps it was the man who walked out of it.

References

DeMolay International. (n.d.). DeMolay leader's resource guide. DeMolay International. https://demolay.org/wp-content/uploads/resources/leaders_resource_guide.pdf

DeMolay International. (n.d.). Hall of Fame. DeMolay International.

Florida DeMolay. (n.d.). Parents' guide to DeMolay. Florida DeMolay. https://www.fldemolay.org/files/resources/advisors/Parents_Guide_to_DeMolay.pdf

Rowe, J. N. (1971). Five years to freedom: The true story of a Vietnam POW. Little, Brown and Company.

Sijan, J. A. (2004). Lance and the shield: The inspiring story of an unlikely hero. Word Association Publishers.

United States Air Force. (n.d.). Captain Lance P. Sijan. U.S. Air Force.

Washington DeMolay. (n.d.). What does it mean to be a leader? Washington DeMolay.

Knights Templar's Code of Chivalry and DeMolay's Values: An Analysis

The Templar Code of Chivalry and the Seven Precepts of the Order of DeMolay share common themes of ethics, values, and principles, despite originating in different historical periods and contexts. In this comparison and contrast, we will explore how these two sets of principles align and diverge, while also delving into the values upheld by the Order of DeMolay.

Loyalty and Obedience:

In the Templar Code, Templars swore loyalty and obedience to their order and leaders without question. Their commitment to their brotherhood was unwavering, symbolizing a profound sense of unity and trust. On the other hand, DeMolays emphasize filial love and loyalty to one's parents, promoting family bonds as a cornerstone of their values. Both systems place great importance on loyalty, albeit in different contexts – Templars to their order, DeMolays to their families.

Religious Devotion:

Religious devotion plays a significant role in both the Templar Code and the DeMolay Precepts. Templars upheld deep religious devotion through daily Mass and piety, viewing their service as a sacred duty. In contrast, DeMolay encourages spiritual development and emphasizes faith in a higher power as part of their moral framework. Both stress the importance of spirituality and faith, though the practices differ, reflecting the historical and religious backgrounds of each organization.

Chastity:

One of the most distinct differences between the two sets of principles lies in the concept of chastity. In the Templar Code, Templars took vows of chastity, renouncing marriage and sexual activity as part of their commitment to the order. This strict adherence to celibacy was seen as a symbol of purity and devotion. In contrast, while DeMolays promote clean and pure living, they do not require vows of celibacy. Instead, they emphasize the importance of responsible and respectful relationships. Both advocate for moral purity, but Templars take a stricter stance on chastity.

Courage and Valor:

Courage and valor are virtues that find resonance in both the Templar Code and the DeMolay Precepts. In the Templar tradition, these qualities were tested on the battlefield during the Crusades, where Templars displayed exceptional courage in the face of danger. DeMolays, on the other hand, aspire to develop leadership skills and personal courage, preparing themselves for the challenges of life. While both emphasize courage, Templars' valor was battlefield-oriented, while DeMolays focus on personal development and character building.

Humility:

Humility is another common thread that runs through these ethical frameworks. Templars maintained humility in actions and wealth, avoiding displays of opulence or arrogance. Their humility was reflected in their modest lifestyle and commitment to serving others. DeMolays, too, learn the value of humility through self-improvement and service to others. While Templars focused on material humility, DeMolays emphasize personal growth and self-awareness.

Generosity:

Generosity and philanthropy are principles shared by both the Templar Code and the DeMolay Precepts. Templars directed their wealth toward charitable acts and supporting the needy, recognizing the importance of giving back to the community. Similarly, DeMolays emphasize the importance of altruism and community service, instilling a sense of responsibility toward others. While both advocate for generosity, the recipients and methods differ, with Templars focusing on charity and DeMolays on community service.

Honor and Integrity:

Honor and integrity are virtues that hold a central place in both systems of ethics. Templars valued honesty, integrity, justice, and truthfulness in all their dealings, embodying a code of conduct that reflected their commitment to righteousness. DeMolays, too, uphold values of honor, loyalty, courtesy, and patriotism, promoting ethical behavior and personal integrity. While both stress the importance of honor and integrity, each framework encompasses a slightly different set of virtues.

Protection of the Innocent (Templar Code):

Unique to the Templar Code is the principle of protecting the innocent and defenseless. Templars considered it their duty to shield those who were vulnerable from harm, viewing this as a sacred obligation. This dedication to safeguarding the innocent was particularly evident during their involvement in the Crusades, where they offered refuge to pilgrims and civilians. This principle highlights the Templars' commitment to justice and compassion.

While the Order of DeMolay does not directly incorporate the principle of protecting the innocent and defenseless, it upholds a strong commitment to maintaining a safe and respectful environment. DeMolay has a "zero tolerance" policy for engaging in any act toward any person, youth, or adult, that would reasonably be considered hazing or bullying. This includes acts at DeMolay events or at any time or location that may be in violation of DeMolay's policies and values. While the focus of this policy is different from the Templars' principle, it underscores DeMolay's dedication to ensuring the well-being and safety of its members.

In summary, the Templar Code of Chivalry and the Seven Precepts of the Order of DeMolay share common ethical themes such as loyalty, courage, humility, and integrity. Both systems of principles aim to instill virtuous qualities in their members. However, differences arise due to the distinct historical contexts and purposes of the two organizations. The Templars, as warrior monks during the Crusades, emphasized battlefield valor and religious devotion, while the DeMolay Order focuses on character development, family values, and community service. Despite these variations, both frameworks stand as enduring symbols of ethical conduct and personal growth.

Senior DeMolay Colonel Frank Borman: Recipient of the first Congressional Space Medal of Honor

Frank Frederick Borman II, an American astronaut and retired United States Air Force Colonel, is a name deeply engraved in the annals of space exploration history. Born on March 14, 1928, in Gary, Indiana, Borman's life journey took him from the skies of the Air Force to the boundless reaches of space. His remarkable contributions to space exploration, including commanding the Apollo 8 mission, have left an indelible mark on humanity's quest to explore the cosmos.

Senior DeMolay Frank Borman joined an Arizona Chapter of the Order of DeMolay in 1943.  Colonel Borman later said of his DeMolay experience, "My DeMolay experience was a very positive part of growing up. I remember it with pleasure and I recommend a similar experience to every young man."

Borman's early life was marked by his fascination with aviation. He joined the United States Military Academy at West Point, graduating in 1950. Following his graduation, he entered the United States Air Force and began a career as a fighter pilot. His exceptional skills and dedication led him to become a test pilot, pushing the boundaries of aircraft performance. His experiences as a pilot prepared him for the challenges he would face in the realm of space exploration.

In 1962, Borman was selected as one of the original 14 astronauts for NASA's Gemini program. The Gemini missions were crucial in paving the way for future lunar missions, serving as stepping stones in developing the necessary technology and expertise. Borman flew two Gemini missions, Gemini 7 and Gemini 12, where he demonstrated his competence and adaptability in the unforgiving environment of space.

However, it was his role as the commander of Apollo 8 that would make him a household name and a symbol of human achievement. Apollo 8 was a historic mission, as it was the first time humans would journey to the Moon's vicinity. On December 21, 1968, Borman, along with fellow astronauts James Lovell and William Anders, embarked on this daring expedition. The crew's primary objective was to orbit the Moon and conduct scientific observations. As they circled the Moon, they captured the famous "Earthrise" photograph, a stunning image that highlighted the fragility and beauty of our planet.

The Apollo 8 mission was not without its challenges. The crew faced the perilous journey into the unknown, with the constant risk of mechanical failure and the uncertainties of navigating uncharted lunar territory. Borman's leadership and composure were critical in overcoming these obstacles. His ability to keep the crew focused and calm under pressure was instrumental in the mission's success.

On Christmas Eve 1968, while orbiting the Moon, Borman addressed the people of Earth with a memorable message: "And from the crew of Apollo 8, we close with good night, good luck, a Merry Christmas, and God bless all of you, all of you on the good Earth." It was a moment of unity and reflection that resonated with millions around the world.

The safe return of Apollo 8 marked a pivotal moment in the Space Race, bolstering America's confidence in its quest to reach the Moon. Frank Borman's leadership, along with the dedication of the entire Apollo 8 team, had taken humanity one step closer to that monumental goal.

After the Apollo 8 mission, Borman continued to contribute to space exploration in various roles. He retired from NASA and the Air Force in 1970 and pursued a successful career in the private sector. Borman's impact extended beyond space exploration, as he became a prominent advocate for environmental conservation and education.

In retrospect, Frank Borman's journey from a young aviation enthusiast to a legendary astronaut and leader serves as an inspiration to generations. His courage, resilience, and commitment to the pursuit of knowledge exemplify the human spirit's unending quest to explore the cosmos. As we look to the future of space exploration, we can find inspiration in the remarkable life and achievements of Frank Borman, a true pioneer of the final frontier.

Senior DeMolay Henry Edward "Hank" Stickney: A Remarkable Life of Service, Entrepreneurship, and Philanthropy

In the annals of American entrepreneurship, there are individuals whose life stories inspire us all. Henry Edward "Hank" Stickney, born on November 8, 1932, in Cleveland, Ohio, was one such exceptional individual whose journey left an indelible mark on various fields – from the military to healthcare, minor league baseball, and entertainment. He passed away on October 17, 2017, after a valiant battle with malignant melanoma, leaving behind a legacy that continues to inspire and resonate.

A Military Career of Distinction

Hank Stickney's journey began with a commitment to serve his country. He joined the United States Air Force, where he served with honor and dedication for 21 years. Rising to the rank of Colonel, he undertook various roles as a pilot and intelligence officer. His military service laid the foundation for qualities that would define his future endeavors – leadership, discipline, and unwavering commitment.

Entrepreneurship in Healthcare

After his distinguished military career, Hank embarked on an entrepreneurial journey that would make a significant impact on the healthcare industry. He founded Western Medical Specialties, a business focused on serving hemophilia patients at home. It was during this time that he developed Factor 7, a crucial blood clotting agent that improved the lives of countless individuals.

A Baseball Visionary

Hank Stickney's entrepreneurial spirit extended beyond healthcare into the realm of sports. He became the CEO of Mandalay Baseball Properties and Dillstar Productions, Inc. Under his leadership, he operated multiple minor league baseball franchises, including the Dayton Dragons, the Shreveport Swamp Dragons, and the Las Vegas 51s. His passion for baseball was evident in the success and innovation he brought to these franchises, with the Dayton Dragons' stadium receiving recognition as one of the most beautiful and successful in the country.

A Leader in Entertainment and Philanthropy

Hank's entrepreneurial pursuits weren't limited to baseball; he also ventured into the world of entertainment. As the owner of Dillstar Productions, he introduced audiences to memorable experiences like Joey & Maria's comedy Italian Wedding.

Hank Stickney's commitment to philanthropy was equally remarkable. He made substantial contributions to the fields he was passionate about, leaving a lasting impact on the communities he served.

A Proud DeMolay

Throughout his life, Hank Stickney remained committed to values instilled in him during his formative years. He was a past Grand Master of DeMolay International, an organization that played a pivotal role in shaping his leadership and public speaking skills. His dedication to DeMolay was evident in his initiation of the Thomas Jones Chapter in Ohio in 1948.

Honors and Legacy

Hank Stickney's remarkable achievements did not go unnoticed. He received numerous accolades during his lifetime, including the Ernst & Young's Entrepreneur of the Year Finalist Award in 2001 and Inc. Magazine's Entrepreneur of the Year in 1986. He was inducted into the Hall of Fame alongside luminaries like Walt Disney, a testament to the lasting impact of his contributions.

In a life filled with diverse accomplishments, Hank Stickney's legacy continues through his family and the many lives he touched. He was a dedicated family man who raised three children, all of whom achieved remarkable success. His entrepreneurial spirit, dedication to service, and philanthropic endeavors continue to inspire generations to come.

Senior DeMolay and Freemason Lee Sherman Dreyfus: From World War II Veteran to Wisconsin Governor

Lee Sherman Dreyfus, a prominent American educator and politician, left an indelible mark on the state of Wisconsin. Serving as the 40th governor of Wisconsin from January 4, 1979, to January 3, 1983, Dreyfus was a multifaceted individual whose life story is worth exploring. Beyond his political career, he was also known as a dedicated educator and a 33rd degree Mason in the Scottish Rite.

Lee Sherman Dreyfus was born on June 20, 1926, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, to Clare Bluett Dreyfus and Woods Orlow Dreyfus. Growing up, he attended Washington High School in Milwaukee, where he was not only academically inclined but also showcased his talents as a young actor and singer on WISN radio. His mother's extensive service on the Milwaukee School Board, spanning 25 years, instilled in him a sense of community engagement from an early age.

Upon completing high school, Dreyfus enlisted in the United States Navy. During his time in the Navy, he gained valuable skills as an electronics technician and worked on radar repair. His service led him to the Pacific during World War II, where he remained until the war's conclusion. After the war, he seized the educational opportunities offered by the GI Bill and enrolled at the University of Wisconsin–Madison.

It was during his time at the university that he met Joyce Unke, whom he married in 1947. In the same year, he joined the Kappa Sigma fraternity, forging connections that would influence his life's trajectory. Dreyfus's dedication to education was evident in his pursuit of academic excellence, culminating in a bachelor's degree in 1949, a master's degree in 1952, and a doctorate in communication in 1957.

Dreyfus's academic journey eventually led him to Wayne State University in Detroit, where he played a pivotal role as the general manager of the university's radio station and contributed to the development of the mass communications department. His commitment to education continued as he returned to Madison in 1962, serving as the manager of WHA-TV and a professor of speech and broadcasting.

In 1967, Dreyfus assumed the presidency of what was then known as Wisconsin State University-Stevens Point. Subsequently, in 1972, he became the chancellor of the university, which later merged into the University of Wisconsin System and was renamed the University of Wisconsin–Stevens Point. During his tenure, Dreyfus endeared himself to students by being approachable and visible on campus, famously donning his signature red vest as a means of recognition and accessibility.

While his academic career was marked by dedication and innovation, Dreyfus's foray into politics would become equally notable. A pivotal moment occurred during a trip to China in 1975, where he represented American colleges and universities and gained insights into the perils of one-party systems. This experience propelled him into the political arena as he joined the Republican Party in December 1977, believing it was a rescue mission to revitalize the party in Wisconsin.

Dreyfus's political journey took an unconventional turn as he embarked on a populist campaign for the governorship. He traversed the state in a distinctive painted school bus, affectionately named "The Red Vest Whistle Stop Special." His captivating speeches and memorable quips resonated with voters, highlighting his belief in state sovereignty and limited federal intervention. Against the odds, Dreyfus secured the Republican nomination and went on to defeat the incumbent Acting Governor Martin Schreiber in the general election.

As the 40th governor of Wisconsin, Dreyfus brought his unique brand of governance to the state. His fiscal conservatism emphasized tax cuts and reducing the size of government, aligning with the prevailing sentiments of the Reagan conservative movement. Notably, in 1982, he signed the nation's first civil rights legislation prohibiting discrimination against gays and lesbians in jobs and housing, earning recognition as a social moderate.

Dreyfus's oratory skills helped him overcome initial doubts about his experience and competency for the governor's position. However, his focus on tax cuts faced challenges as the state grappled with budget deficits caused by inflation and high interest rates. Unemployment rates also surged, impacting government revenue sources.

Despite these challenges, Dreyfus made a profound decision during his time in office by championing the establishment of the School of Veterinary Medicine at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. This decision, though met with resistance, would later prove visionary as it paved the way for significant advancements in stem cell research.

Following his term as governor, Dreyfus declined to seek re-election in 1982, emphasizing that politics was never his primary interest. He ventured into the corporate world, serving as the Chief Operating Officer of Sentry Insurance in Stevens Point. His subsequent roles included Interim State Superintendent of Public Instruction and membership on the University of Wisconsin Board of Regents.

Dreyfus's influence extended beyond politics and education. He became a popular speaker and advocated against an amendment to the Wisconsin Constitution that sought to ban gay marriage and civil unions, which ultimately passed in 2006. Additionally, he authored a weekly newspaper column for the Waukesha Freeman from 1990 to 2007, addressing various issues of general interest.

Lee Sherman Dreyfus's life journey reflects a remarkable blend of education, politics, and advocacy. His legacy endures as a testament to his commitment to both Wisconsin and the principles he upheld throughout his diverse career.

Senior DeMolay and Medal of Honor Recipient: Lance Peter Sijan

Lance Peter Sijan, also known as Lazar Šijan, remains an enduring symbol of valor and selflessness in the annals of American military history. Born on April 13, 1942, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, his life was marked by a remarkable journey from childhood to the United States Air Force, ultimately culminating in an act of heroism that would lead to the posthumous award of the Medal of Honor, the highest military honor in the United States. Beyond his courageous military career, Sijan's early influences and experiences, including his involvement with DeMolay as a teenager in Wisconsin, shaped his character and instilled values that would define his legacy.

Early Life and Military Career: 

Lance Peter Sijan was the eldest child of Sylvester and Jane Sijan, born to an ethnic Serb father and an Irish-American mother. He grew up in Milwaukee, where his father owned a restaurant. Lance's upbringing was marked by the values of hard work, determination, and a strong sense of duty instilled in him by his parents. His formative years were spent in a nurturing environment that emphasized the importance of family, heritage, and community.

After graduating from Bay View High School in 1960, Sijan embarked on a path that would lead him to greatness. He attended the Naval Academy Preparatory School at the United States Naval Training Center Bainbridge, Maryland, immediately following his high school graduation. His commitment to education and personal growth earned him an appointment to the United States Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs, Colorado.

Sijan's academic pursuits did not overshadow his love for sports. He played on the Air Force Academy's football team for three years, showcasing his dedication and teamwork. In his final year, he made the difficult decision to leave the team to focus on his studies, a testament to his unwavering commitment to excellence. In 1965, he graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree in Humanities and was commissioned as a second lieutenant.

Following his graduation, Sijan commenced Undergraduate Pilot Training, marking the beginning of his remarkable military career. He was assigned to the 480th Tactical Fighter Squadron, 366th Fighter Wing, stationed at Da Nang Air Base, South Vietnam, where he served as a pilot and systems officer in an F-4 Phantom.

The Last Mission: 

November 9, 1967, is a date etched in history as the night of Sijan's 52nd combat mission. He and pilot Lieutenant Colonel John Armstrong were assigned a critical bombing mission to Ban Laboy ford in Laos. Tragically, during the mission, their F-4C aircraft was engulfed in flames due to a malfunction in the bomb fuses, leading to a premature detonation upon release. In a desperate bid to survive, Sijan ejected from the aircraft, landing on a rocky limestone ridge near the target.

Sijan's journey from this point forward was nothing short of miraculous and exemplified his indomitable spirit. Despite suffering a fractured skull, a mangled right hand, and a compound fracture of his left leg during the violent ejection, he was determined to survive. Alone, without food, and with minimal water and no survival kit, he managed to evade enemy forces for an astonishing 46 days.

Throughout his ordeal, Sijan's resilience was evident. He could only move by sliding on his buttocks and back along the unforgiving terrain. His journey led him to a truck road along the Ho Chi Minh Trail, where he was captured by North Vietnamese forces on Christmas Day, 1967. Even in captivity, he displayed unwavering resolve, repeatedly resisting his captors' attempts to extract information beyond the limits of the Geneva Convention.

 Lance Peter Sijan's life, from his early years influenced by his family and community to his valiant military service, remains a testament to the enduring impact of childhood experiences and values. His involvement with DeMolay during his teenage years in Wisconsin undoubtedly contributed to his sense of duty, honor, and commitment to a greater cause.

Despite the unimaginable challenges he faced, Sijan's unwavering determination and commitment to his fellow airmen never wavered. His selflessness and courage under lethal danger ultimately earned him the Medal of Honor, which he received posthumously in 1976.

Lance Peter Sijan's legacy continues to inspire generations, serving as a reminder that the values instilled in us during our formative years can shape us into extraordinary individuals. His story is a testament to the indomitable spirit of the human will and the enduring power of resilience, honor, and sacrifice.

Nobel-Prize Winner John Steinbeck: Senior DeMolay and Master Mason

John Steinbeck, the renowned Nobel Prize-winning American author, possessed qualities that resonated with the principles upheld by the Freemasons. He was a man of profound thought, deeply sensitive to the struggles faced by ordinary individuals, particularly during the tumultuous period of the Great Depression and its aftermath. Much of Steinbeck's literary works reflected the challenges and tribulations of the working class, and it is evident that the teachings of the Freemasonry fraternity influenced his writing. This essay delves into the life of John Steinbeck, exploring his early years, his involvement with DeMolay during childhood, his initiation as a Freemason, and the impact of Freemasonry on his literary creations, with a particular focus on his novels "Winter of Our Discontent" and "East of Eden."

The Son of a Mason and DeMolay Youth

John Steinbeck was born on February 27, 1902, in Salinas, California, to parents who played a significant role in shaping his values and worldview. His father, John Ernst Steinbeck, was not only a Freemason but also served as the Monterey County treasurer in California. From a young age, John was introduced to the world of Freemasonry through his father's affiliation. Furthermore, during his childhood, John became a member of the Order of DeMolay, a youth organization sponsored by the Masonic fraternity. This early exposure to Masonic principles would have a lasting impact on his life and work.

Growing up in the fertile Salinas Valley, often referred to as the "Salad Bowl of the Nation," Steinbeck developed a deep appreciation for his surroundings, an appreciation that would later find its way into his literary works. His mother, Olive Hamilton Steinbeck, was a schoolteacher who nurtured young John's passion for reading and writing, encouraging his intellectual pursuits.

The Work of a Mason

In 1929, Steinbeck published his first novel, "Cup of Gold," a tale based on the life of the privateer Henry Morgan. Around the same time, he became a member of Salinas Lodge No. 204, a Freemasonry lodge in Salinas, California. On March 1, 1929, Steinbeck was initiated into Freemasonry, progressing through the degrees of the blue lodge, and eventually reaching the sublime degree of Master Mason on May 24, 1929. While he did not hold active positions or engage extensively in lodge activities, his involvement with Freemasonry left a lasting impact on his life and work.

Amid the looming Great Depression, Steinbeck and his wife, Carol Henning, faced financial challenges in Los Angeles. They received support from John's parents, who provided them with a cottage in Pacific Grove, California, along with a loan and paper to facilitate John's writing. This period of financial hardship and relative seclusion allowed him to produce his first novel, "Cup of Gold," which marked the beginning of his literary journey. Additionally, their simple lifestyle during this time provided inspiration for later works, such as "Cannery Row."

Steinbeck's friendship with marine biologist Ed Ricketts, established during his time near Monterey, significantly influenced his philosophical outlook and understanding of biology. Ricketts became a mentor to Steinbeck, expanding his horizons in the realms of philosophy and biology. The friendship extended to the point where Steinbeck and Carol even worked in Ricketts's marine lab.

A Blossoming Career

During the period they spent near Monterey, Steinbeck embarked on his writing career in earnest. He published several novels, including "The Pastures of Heaven" (1932), "The Red Pony" (1933), and "To a God Unknown" (1933). While these early works did not attain widespread recognition, they laid the foundation for his future success.

His breakthrough came with "Tortilla Flat" in 1935, a novel that resonated with readers and was eventually adapted into a film in 1942. This success marked the beginning of Steinbeck's "California novels," a series of works that depicted the struggles of everyday people during the Dust Bowl and the Great Depression. Notable works in this series include "Of Mice and Men" and "The Grapes of Wrath," the latter of which became a bestseller in 1939, earning Steinbeck the National Book Award and the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.

However, "The Grapes of Wrath" was not without controversy, as it was a politically charged novel critical of capitalism and sympathetic to the working class. In California, where much of the story was set, it faced criticism and even bans in some regions for its perceived misrepresentation of the area's conditions.

World War II and Later Works

Following the entry of the United States into World War II, Steinbeck served as a war correspondent for the New York Herald Tribune, accompanying U.S. forces on various missions, including an island invasion off the coast of Italy. His experiences during this time, both the physical and psychological challenges, left a significant impact on him.

In 1942, Steinbeck co-wrote the screenplay for Alfred Hitchcock's film "Lifeboat," which added to his diverse portfolio of work. After the war, he continued to write prolifically, producing notable novels such as "Cannery Row" (1945) and "The Pearl" (1947). "Cannery Row" was particularly significant as it drew inspiration from his experiences in Monterey and showcased his deep empathy for the ordinary people he encountered.

"Winter of Our Discontent" and Masonic Influence

One of the most intriguing aspects of Steinbeck's life and work is the presence of Masonic themes and influences, notably in his novel "Winter of Our Discontent," published in 1961. The novel's protagonist, Ethan Allen Hawley, grapples with moral dilemmas, economic pressures, and societal expectations in a changing world, much like Steinbeck did during his lifetime.

In "Winter of Our Discontent," the title itself is derived from William Shakespeare's play "Richard III," where the line reads, "Now is the winter of our discontent." The novel explores themes of integrity, greed, and personal ethics, echoing the Masonic values of brotherhood, moral virtue, and self-improvement. Ethan Hawley's internal struggle and eventual redemption can be seen as a reflection of Steinbeck's own contemplations and experiences.

In the novel, there are references to Freemasonry and Masonic symbols, such as the square and compass, which serve as a backdrop to the story. These elements highlight the conflict between material success and moral integrity, a central theme in Steinbeck's work.

The novel concludes with a sense of moral restoration, suggesting that redemption is possible for those who adhere to their inner principles. This message aligns with Masonic teachings that emphasize the importance of personal growth and moral development.

"East of Eden" and the Dichotomy of Good and Evil

Another of Steinbeck's significant works, "East of Eden" (1952), explores the enduring struggle between good and evil. The novel draws inspiration from the biblical story of Cain and Abel, with the setting closely resembling the Salinas Valley where Steinbeck grew up.

Within the narrative, several characters represent different facets of human nature, with themes of choice, free will, and the consequences of one's actions pervading the story. The novel's title itself references the biblical account of Cain's exile "east of Eden" after committing fratricide.

While there is no overt Masonic symbolism in "East of Eden," the novel's exploration of moral choices and the human capacity for both good and evil resonates with Masonic principles. Freemasonry encourages its members to strive for moral excellence and make virtuous choices in their lives. The novel's examination of these themes aligns with Steinbeck's broader exploration of ethics and morality in his work.

Conclusion

John Steinbeck's life and literary career were profoundly influenced by his experiences, values, and, to some extent, his membership in the Freemasonry fraternity. Born into a family with Masonic ties and having joined DeMolay during his childhood, Steinbeck's initiation into the fraternity further connected him to a tradition that emphasizes moral and ethical development. While he did not actively participate in Masonic activities, the principles of brotherhood, integrity, and self-improvement undoubtedly left an imprint on his worldview and writing.

Steinbeck's novels, including "Winter of Our Discontent" and "East of Eden," explore themes of moral struggle, personal growth, and the dichotomy between good and evil. These themes reflect the ethical concerns central to Freemasonry, making his works a testament to the enduring influence of the fraternity on his literary creations.

In his lifetime, Steinbeck's novels garnered critical acclaim, and his exploration of the human condition continues to resonate with readers today. His legacy as a writer, deeply rooted in his experiences and influenced by Masonic values, stands as a testament to the enduring impact of both his personal journey and the teachings of Freemasonry on his literary achievements.