A few nights ago, we had an initiation in the local Florida Chapter of OES which I often attend. I filled in as AC—the first time that I had done this duty for degree work in a very long time (ten years)…although I had done it many times before that. After I finished my lecture to the candidate and we were waiting, she started a conversation. Someone had told her about the GOAT that she would ride. Laughingly, I said to her that I thought it was a PIG. She was on her way into the initiation. No goat. No pig.
Apparently, traditionally many potential members are jokingly informed that our initiation includes either riding a cantankerous goat or a very squiggly greased pig. This tradition has been going on for years and years. And it is not limited to a region or area of the country. I have heard about one of these critters in both Florida and New England. Nor is it limited to one of the many organizations under our wonderful Masonic umbrella.
I have several stories about the goats and pigs. The first has to do with yours truly over fifty years ago. I joined the International Order of Rainbow for Girls at the age of twelve under my father’s suggestion and guidance. It was one of the best things in my life. Not only are the ritualistic teachings important for growth in one’s own life (lessons in Love, Religion, Nature, Immortality, Fidelity, Patriotism, Service, Faith, Hope and Charity), but it gave me a self-confidence that a girl in their early teens usually lacks. Many of the lessons, both tangible (from the ritual) and intangible have made me a better person. I thank God for having given me this opportunity.
Back to the story…all the girls wore white. Sometimes there would be white gowns; sometimes dresses or skirts and blouses…but always white. It is tradition for someone to sit with a new person (people) before the initiation starts (both OES and Rainbow and possibly for other organizations under the Masonic group). The lady that sat with me became a wonderful friend over the years. She was a little old lady—very Victorian in her manner and style. Very serious and straight laced, but very nice. I had heard that there were seven degrees. Some of the older kids told me about the goat, pig and the cold spaghetti through which I needed to walk. What could possibly be the other four degrees? I was scared. I verbalized my thoughts to Bessie, who laughed heartily and said in her most prim and proper voice, “Young lady, do these girls look as though they are dressed to handle a greased pig?” No, I thought, they do not. This calmed my fears. No goat! No pig! No spaghetti! Better than any of that was a wonderful set of lectures/lessons.
Well, a year or two later, I signed a petition for my father’s boss’s daughter. She had been told about the PIG! In our Assembly, we had a piggy bank that we filled with pennies on our birthday…one penny for each year. It was a fun thing. The night that this gal was initiated, whoever set up the assembly had forgotten to bring the bank out. Feeding the bank was always done near the end of the meeting. After she finished her degrees and was seated in the Assembly, someone realized that the bank had not been included when they set up took place. The presiding officer looked at our Assembly “Dad” and said, “Dad, would you get the pig!” Remember, this gal had been told about the pig and now through this statement thought it was real. She turned bone white. I am probably the only one that noticed, since others had no idea how frightened she had been by the pig riding statement. The poor kid was highly distraught. Great relief appeared on her face when our PIG came into the Assembly room.
I rarely perpetuate this bit of “fun,” probably because I had been scared and so was this young lady. However, I am not totally a good girl and do occasionally mention it especially if it is to someone I know well.
When my friend in South Florida was ready to join OES, someone told her about one of the animals. She asked me about it. Her Dad is a Mason. She had been in Rainbow briefly. I told her it was the same one she had to ride when she had joined Rainbow. She stated that she did not remember either animal. I said, “Exactly!” At which point, she got it and was relieved. But, she decided to bring the critter to life when her husband joined the Masonic Lodge a couple of years later. I thought it was rather funny that he really thought he was going to have ride the goat. A retired Navy guy, he had no fear of it, but perhaps just a whisker of concern.
Several years ago, when I was at my home Chapter in New England, we were having an initiation. I was asked to sit outside with the new person. The devil got into me, I guess, and I mentioned the pig. She kind of blew me off, but I think a small part of her thought it might be true. Now, every time I see her (which is not often), one of us mentions her pig ride. We both laugh. Nobody else gets our joke. It has created a special bond between us (goofy as that may sound).
So, I guess this bit of chicanery is going to continue forever. Long live our wonderful Order! And the pig! Or, the goat!
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