Photo Credit - Lee Wonnacott
But has that road always led nowhere? Probably not. Dead ends have a way of leaving the landscape littered with clues of how they came to be. A once active railroad grade lies abandoned as a two-track trail leading diagonally through a township, or a grove of unkempt bushes and trees hides a collection of foundations built by those long dead and buried. Once the traveler re-orients the perspective in light of history, the dead end may actually turn out to be the beginning of the road.
I found one of those clues last week in southern Mecosta County, within a cluster of old homes once widely known as Millbrook. The village as it is now certainly isn't much for the eye to behold. It spreads all of three streets in each direction, that is, if you can even find the center of town. It once had a Post Office, ZIP Code 49334, and a furniture factory to go along with an old mill; and still has two churches but no discernable graveyard, and across from the postal building is the Odd Fellows hall.
In our 21st century the work of the life assurance benefit society known as the Independent Order of Odd Fellows is nearly invisible, but throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries these local IOOF lodges were an important feature of a thriving community. Lodge members swore financial aid to one another so that their families would never be "a burden upon the public treasury." In addition to assuring a proper burial to its members, the lodge undertook it as their duty to "visit the sick" and "educate the orphans" of deceased members.
The attitudes of managing public finance were vastly different when the IOOF first appeared at Baltimore in 1813. Destitute widows and orphans were given little recognition by any government, and public assistance was impossible through the levels of tax funding allowed by the electorate. The general consensus was that if a man could not properly support his wife and children in life it should not be the responsibility of the community treasury to ensure they could gain any greater standing after his death. It clearly wasn't altruism that spawned beneficial societies like the Odd Fellows; it was a measure of honor between gentlemen that would not allow their families to suffer should their own fate be faced earlier than expected.
As the nation grew toward the west, especially in the years immediately before and after the Civil War, IOOF lodges were established in villages and towns across America. The size of the village wasn't important; it was the desire of local families to ensure they could continue should death coming knocking unexpectedly at the door. The IOOF hall proclaimed to all visitors that a village knew whose pocketbook should pay and for what purpose. It was good fiscal policy for the government to encourage such attitudes.
The old hall at Millbrook was built in 1909 and replaced the original hall erected in 1873. A cement centerpiece proclaims it to be Level Lodge #219, I wonder if there might possibly be a time capsule sealed within. The windows are gone, a tree grows in the middle of the building and all of the volunteer labor from three counties around could not bring the building back to what it was. Because, when a community allows its neighborly duties to be supplanted by the faceless entity of government the children of the community learn to neglect their own responsibility. They leave the buildings behind without recognizing their neighbors needs, and their own.
When President Roosevelt signed the Social Security act the government of the United States took an inestimable turn away from the cold-hearted policies that fostered the need for IOOF and others like it. No longer would our official community standards allow widows and orphans to fend for themselves, our government would help without question. No longer would we expect a neighbor to read to a sick friend or stock the woodshed, our government would help without question. And no longer would the individuals of the community meet in a hall dedicated to service and pass the hat when one of their own needed assistance, their government would help without asking.
And so, we find empty lodge halls all over this state and the nation. While they once numbered in the hundreds, the count of active lodges in Michigan is now fewer than fifty. Their members continue to ensure that their families are "never a burden upon the public treasury." They understand the importance of neighborhood involvement in community affairs and what happens when a government gives help without asking.
Millbrook is located on Costabella Road, a few miles south of M-20 and three miles east of M-66. The road leads pleasantly from here to there, and is not yet a dead end, so I guess you would have to say that Millbrook is somewhere in the middle of our highway of life.
Remember, "Ride today - Tommorow you may not be able!"
-LW