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A Tribute to Jerry Marsengill
From John Mauk Hilliard, President

In February, 1977, I attended my first
Philalethes Society annual meeting in
Washington, D.C. held during "Masonic
Week" at the venerable Hotel Washing-
ton. A Masonic friend in New York City
who was a fellow member of Inde-
pendent Royal Arch Lodge No. Two had
subscribed to the Philalethes Magazine
for a number of years, and urged me to
attend the Philalethes Annual Meeting
and Forum, "not, " he said, "because the
meetings are of great interest, but be-
cause you'll meet during that weekend a
greater range of truly interesting Masons
of every type and description than at any
other Masonic function in the world! "

I tended to discount his strong
favorable opinions of Masonic Weekend
in Washington as being characteristic of
that combination of headstrong enthusi-
asm and hyperbole with which he ap-
proached all his fraternal endeavors.
However, he was the most fervent Mason
I had yet encountered in my life, so I
figured I would take a chance on the
event. Little did I realize that I would
meet in Washington that weekend c
group of brothers who would utterly
change my Masonic life, and that the
experiences inaugurated there would
lead to a future progression of events that
would invigorate and enrich my Masonic
experience beyond measure. The friend-
ships established that February would
endure as among the Ancient and Gentle
Craft's most treasured gifts to me. I
devote this column, which is my last mes-
sage to the Society as its International
President, to one particular friendship
formed that weekend.

The experience began rather om-
inously. The Philalethes Forum, in those
days, consisted of a panel of speakers
who presented papers, each of which was
followed by a question and answer ses-
sion. The feasting, which these days
characterized the event, was not to be a
feature of the evening until a good many
years later. The group of young Masonic
"rebels and radicals" from New York
City whom my friend had recruited to
accompany him to the weekend quickly
grew bored and disillusioned with what
we youngsters (quite unfairly, as I now
look back on it) regarded as being dull
Masonic topics. The insipid discussion
that followed the papers also failed to
elevate us. We young Turks were one
tough audience! We wanted to hear ar-
guments about the burning Masonic is-
sues ofthe day: the decline ofthe Craft's
numbers, its waning social and cultural
profile and influence, its racial and
ethnic hypocrisies, etc. During a lull in
the proceedings, my enthusiastic friend
leapt to his feet and, in an inspiring
speech, urged the assembly to consider a
wider range of issues. I followed with an
impassioned public demand that the
greal Masonic issues of the day be imme-
diately addressed. My voice shaking
with righteous conviction, I then pro-
ceeded with my usual overwrought rhe-
toric, to catalog the major ills of Freema-
sonry and, for good measure, threw in an
equally fervent encyclopedia of sure so-
lutions. The assembly was stunned; a
strained silence followed these two phil-
ippics, but not for long; a rumble of
outrage finally spewed up a host of apo-
plectic Masonic notables who (with con-
siderable justification, I, in my placid
middle age, must admit) to proceed to
denounce the young bearded whip-
persnappers and long-haired hippies
who had the presumption and the temer-
ity to question the stewardship of a whole
generation of experienced Masonic
ieaders! One particularly enraged South-
ern brother shook his fist at me, and
demanded to know how I could possibly
question a fraternal institution to which
Jesus Christ Himself had belonged!

Things were clearly getting out of
hand. My friends and I were appalled a~
what we had sown, and what it appeared
we were now to reap. We had clearly
bitten off more than we could chew. As I
was checking the exits to see if we coulG
bolt out before the Iynch mob formed, a
tall, lanky, pipe-smoking fellow with the
visage of an amiable gargoyle rose at the
head table, and in a bellow which shook
the rafters, ordered everyone to "sit
down, and shut up!" In the ensuing
silence, he began softly to speak. He
reminded everyone that the Philalethes
Society had a tradition of free, open, and
frank discussion, that both the Forum
and the Magazine possessed a mission
dedicated to the pursuit of ideas without
fear of reprisal from those "clothed in a
little, brief Masonic authority. " He asked
us to remember, at the first, and at the
last, that we were brothers. He ended
with the extraordinary statement that,
and here I quote exactly, "Freemasonry


is big enough and strong enough for its
young men to see visions and its old men
to dream dreams. " The evening drew to
a quieter and calmer close. All of us
listened to this tall fellow with the
country accent. And so, we young Ma-
sonic hippies escaped with no permanent
scars, and our older brothers with their
dignity and sense of fraternal accom-
plishments intact. It was my first en-
counter with Jerry Marsengill, and,
thank God, not the last!

I was with some of these young Ma-
sons, now grown older, on a chilly New
York City evening last November when
we learnt of Jerry's death. The sense of
loss and sorrow was palpable. It seemed
the end of an era, perhaps the end of
what little remained of our Masonic
youth. It was Marsengill, more than any
other Craft figure of his time, who cham-
pioned the young men, who tolerated
their youthful lunacies, who forgave
their excesses and cherished their enthu-
siasms, who gave them a true forum and
voice in the magazines he edited. This
patience, this kindness, this encourage-
ment launched and nourished a genera-
tion of young Masonic writers, re-
searchers, pundits, and scholars. His is
no mean legacy. Whatever the Philaleth-
es now becomes, it will never exceed the
openness, and the commitment to frank
and candid exploration of Masonic ideas
that Marsengill made of it. He seemed
always to be able to see the love for the
Gentle Craft that motivated his authors,
and he published them with a sense of the
mutual joy that we all found in the Fra-
ternity. He received reams of shoddy
manuscripts, and he published more
than a few of them, usually after excret-
ing herculean editorial labors to clean
them up. Some folks complained about
the occasional 'lack of quality" in the
magazine. Marsengill would just smile,
and with a few gentle profanities, offer
his critics the editorship. There were no
takers. He was never blind to quality,
however, and he worked ceaselessly to
stimulate capable Masonic authors to
send manuscripts his way. Plenty of them
did.

The major Masonic voices of the '80s'
wrote for him: Roberts, McLeod, Mor-
ris, Stemper, Weir, Tecter, Bennett, Lip-
son, Guthrie, Starkweather, Nocas,
Hutchins, Haffner, Walkes, Voorhis,
and many others found a voice through
Jerry Marsengill. He revolutionized the
layout, graphics, and covers of the mag-
azine, and gave it a look of extraordinary
professionalism. He took some glee in
the controversy that often engulfed the
magazine, but was scrupulous to make
certain that all viewpoints were repre-
sented with balanced exposure in its
pages. He welcomed the disaffected, the
zealous, the conventional, the fierce, and
the timid to the pages of The Philalethes.
Both Masonic rebeis and Masonic loyal-
ists were given voice through the agency
ofJerry Marsengill's editorship.

As a person, Jerry Marsengill was a
bundle of contradictions: he affected a
shambling country-boy exterior, and
liked to boast that as a young man he
could plow a straighter furrow behind a
team than anyone of his age in Iowa. He
was born in the small town of Lineville,
Iowa, and never forgot his country roots.
This "aw, shucks" country exterior
masked one of the keenest intellects in
the American Craft. He was a member
of MENSA, the organization for people
with the highest I-Qs. He was graduated
summa cum laude from Drake Univer-
sity, and completed with honors a
Masters in magazine journalism, and
this comparatively late in life after a
varied career in the Service, and as a
railroad telegrapher. He had a memory
like a steel trap, and could quote reams
of American and British verse and dra-
matic passages. He affected to dislike the
over-emphasis that he felt the Craft
sometimes put on its ritual, yet he was
one of the renowned ritualists of his
generation, having at his fingertips vir-
tually the entirety of the Iowa Blue
Lodge ritual, and reams of the York Rite
workings. His powerful delivery was
worthy of an avid and accomplished stu-
dent of the great canon of British and
American literature.

He played the role of Masonic rebel
and radical, and had considerable con-
tempt for the "honors-hounds" who
lived only to garner you more titles and
Masonic baubles. His Masonic resume,
if it ever existed (and I doubt he ever
bothered with such a thing) would have
been replete with page after page of cita-
tions of high Craft office, including the
supreme positions in the Iowa Grand
Chapter of Royal Arch and the Iowa
Grand Chapter of the Royal and Select
Masters. He was proud of having earned
such rewards by his labor as a ritualist,
administrator, researcher, and scholar,
and had little time for those who spent
their Masonic lives bartering for honor-
ifics and jewels . He authored Marsengill 's
First Masonic Maxim as a way of express-
ing his contempt for this crowd: "Them
that has, gets! ", he used to snort.

Marsengill's Second Masonic Maxim was
an even blunter commentary on the use
of the Masonic Honors system as a
means of social control in the Craft:
"They figure out what you really want in
Freemasonry and then deny it to you
until you toe the line." Because of his
blunt speech and his straight talk, he had
a few singular Masonic honors denied
him in his life. He was hurt, but he knew
The Philalethes, February 1992
that such sacrifices are a necessary ad-
junct to the independence ofthought and
action that he cherished more than any
title or jewel. It is significant and in some
way fitting that he received a special
honor long denied him by his enemies on
the very night he died. He was, in fact,
returning from the conferral of member-
ship in a Masonic institution in which he
had previously been regularly rejected,
although virtually everyone thought him
more than eminently qualified.

Of the many things in his Masonic
career in which he took pride, it was his
championing of the role and presence of
Jewish and Afro-American brothers in
the Craft that most gratified him. He
relished his friendships with these two
under-represented minorities in the
American Craft. He was an ubiquitous
figure at the principal Jewish Lodge in
Des Moines, was an avid student of the
Hebrew language and Judaic culture,
and was a frequent attender at the local
shuls. He brought his considerable re-
ligious background as a lay minister in
his own faith to the understanding of the
Jewish experience. He sought out the
major Prince Hall figures in Black
Freemasonry, and was a principal advi-
sor to The Phylaxis, a Prince Hall publi-
cation similar to The Philalethes. He intro-
duced many regular Freemasons to their
Prince Hall counterparts, and did more
to heal this ancient and cruel Masonic
breach than any other American
Freemasons of his day. He belabored his
Black friends with genial insults which
they would have taken from no other
white man, because they know he loved
and respected them.

Jerry was proud of his family. He talked
often, and with obvious love, of "crabby
old Betty, " his long-suffering, lovely wife
who was his partner in all his Masonic
undertakings. Neither crabby, or old,
Betty is a better Freemason than most of
us, and Jerry knew it. She was a pro-
foundly humanizing and harmonizing
factor in the life of this powerful per-
sonality. His pride in his daughter and
son-in-law was equally great, and his joy
in the "grandpersons," as he charac-
terized his two granddaughters, was a
delight to behold. It appears as if these
two little girls have inherited much of
their grandfather's intellect, wit, and
stalwart, independent personality.

In his later years, Jerry sometimes
mentioned privately that he felt Freema-
sonry had perhaps outlived its usefulness
to society. Yet he was the first to be pres-
ent, and the last to leave most Masonic
gatherings. His time and advice were
always at a premium with his younger
Craft friends who aspired to leadership
in the fraternity. He had done it all in
Freemasonry, and seen it all, but was


never jaded in his outlook. It was he who
in the last years of his life organized, and
wore himself out in running, an im-
mense annual Christmas dinner at the
Des Moines Masonic Temple for the
homeless and dispossessed of Polk
County. He did this because he thought
the Craft ought to make an immediate
and direct statement in the face of such
overwhelming human need. He wanted
the Gentle Craft to stay spiritually
honest. He thought such service re-
minded Freemasons of the true nature of
our calling as Craftsmen.

Jerry Marsengill's life has meant much
to all he touched, but nowhere more
profoundly than in his great work with
the Philalethes Society. For the sake of his
memory, and for the preservation of his
legacy, we brothers of the Philalethes are
obliged to remember that the Society and
its magazine were founded, in large part,
to shield Masonic authors from the
whims and rages of Masonic autocrats.
He believed that the singular issues
facing the American Craft deserved to be
discussed in the major publications of
Freemasonry with candor and forthright
sincerity. Jerry felt that it simply did not
do to mince words when issues of mag-
nitude were addressed in the major
forums of the Craft. Blunt and clear ar-
gument was the only means by which the
Craft could effectively analyze and
develop strategies to confront and re-
solve matters of profound import.

Jerry Marsengill offered all his brothers
the same right to present their opinions
and attitudes that he so boldly claimed
for himself, even though their opinions
might occasionally upset and offend him
and others. He did not approve of any
editorial policy for the magazine which
would in any way limit freedom of ex-
pression. He believed, and many of us
strongly concurred, that the Philalethes
Society could not legitimately consider
itself a true scholarly and research insti-
tution unless it were willing to tolerate
and print widely diverse points of view
about a variety of subjects concerning
the Craft's history, traditions, and the
issues which beset it. Jerry knew that
some of these opinions might not be
"nice, " "courteous, " or "friendly, " but
that the Philalethes ~ociety could not
achieve any approximation of the great
Masonic quest for truth (nor could the
Craft, in general) without accepting the
full, and often uncomfortable range of
ideas, thoughts, and differing rhetorical
styles which were likely to accompany
any real exploration of the issues.

Jerry was of the old school of Masonic
researchers. His models were Masonic
historians such as Gould and Hughan,
and the other founders of Quatuor Coro-
nati who brought a new scholarly rigor
to the study of the Craft's history and
traditions, and who began to question
the legends and myths of Craf~ origins
inherited from the 17 th and 1 8th C entur-
ies. In our own day, he admired Voorhis,
Case, Roberts, Denslow, Hahn, and
McLeod because he felt they attempted
to apply similar standards by grounding
their work in a thorough reliance on
careful research in primary sources and
reliable secondary materials. He
frequently waxed indignant over Amer-
ican Masonic leaders who insisted their
supreme positions in the Craft entitled
them to scholarly pretensions. He was
particularly distressed when prominent
Masonic leaders quoted out-of-date and
discredited Masonic history in their pub-
lic pronouncements and writings. The
persistence of legends disguised as his-
tory especially irked him. He spent thirty
years valiantly rallying against and cor-
recting widespread misconceptions
about the presumed Ancient World/-
Egyptian origins of Freemasonry, the
latest being a reprint in the December,
1991 Philalethcs (published posthu-
mously) of a superb refutation, which
Jerry authored some years ago, of the
King Tut/Masonic Apron controversy.
He had little patience with Masonic mys-
tics and visionaries who sought to pose
as true historians, and was determined
that Craft scholarship must be held to a
higher standard if our institution were to
win the respect of the world of scholar-
ship at large.

His crusading spirit, his wry wit, his
splendid memory, his intellect, his amia-
ble and fond regard for his friends and
brothers, his fierce independence of
thought, mind, and character all made
Jerry Marsengill a treasure to his brother
Masons. Our lives are the larger for
having known him, and the lesser for his
loss.

The Philalethes, February 1992
