Lodge of Benevolence — Bideford, Devon
By Bro. Simon Trickey, Gladsmuir Lodge & Salisbury Union
There are some Masonic visits you attend out of curiosity, others out of duty. And then there are those that feel, from the very first conversation, like something you were always going to have, you just didn’t know it yet. My visit to the Lodge of Benevolence in Bideford, Devon last December was one of the latter.
I grew up in Devon. My grandmother and mother still live there, and I make the journey down two or three times a year. So in one sense, it was familiar ground. But the road that led me to the Lodge of Benevolence began not with a summons or an invitation, but with a box of regalia.
How It Started
When I became an Entered Apprentice, only two years ago now, I learned that my paternal grandfather, Bob Trickey, had been a Freemason. My grandmother had kept his regalia and jewels after he passed, and in due course passed them back to the Lodge of Benevolence, the lodge he had called home for 35 years. I made contact hoping to find them. Sadly, the lodge was unable to locate them, but rather than leave it there, they did something that I think says everything about the character of Freemasonry: they invited me to come and visit instead.
My Grandfather was a man of his generation, not given to sentiment or great shows of affection. But he was the kind of man who would do anything for you if you needed him, without question and without fuss. I knew almost nothing about his Masonry. He mentioned it once in his later years, and I, not yet a Mason myself and not knowing what questions to ask, let the moment pass. It is one of my genuine regrets. When I joined the craft, I suddenly understood what I had missed the chance to ask him about.
This visit was, in part, my attempt to fill in those gaps.
A Temple That Stops You in Your Tracks
From the moment I arrived, it was clear that the Lodge of Benevolence takes quiet pride in its home. The temple is impressive in the truest sense, not showy, but immaculately kept, with the kind of atmosphere that comes from generations of careful stewardship. The lodge room itself was immediately striking: the layout thoughtful, the symbolism carefully presented, every element in its proper place.
And then, on the Past Masters boards, I found him. Bob Trickey. A quiet moment, the sort that catches you before you are ready for it. Knowing he had stood in that room, served in that chair, looked out at those same walls for decades, it grounded the entire evening in something that felt much larger than a single visit.
Before I left that night, the Secretary presented me with a copy of the lodge’s history book, a genuinely kind and thoughtful gesture that I hadn’t expected and was enormously touched by. Another piece of Bob’s story to take home.
I already have one piece of him at home, as it happens. The lodge presented him with a decanter when he stepped down from the chair, and it sits with me now, filled with his favourite whisky. Not opened. Not yet.
A Well-Attended Evening with Deep Roots
The meeting was well supported, with 15 visitors joining a strong home contingent, creating exactly the kind of warm, lively atmosphere that reminds you why these evenings matter. Every visitor was made to feel genuinely welcome from the outset.
One of the most memorable features of the meeting was a tradition I had not encountered before: the reading of minutes from 100, 50, and 25 years previously. Far from being a dry historical exercise, it felt like the lodge actively choosing to remember where it came from. With a strong contingent of senior brethren present, several names featured in the 25 year old minutes were sitting in the room. Each mention prompted cheers and laughter, entirely spontaneous, utterly warm, and completely unrepeatable.
A Tradition That Deserves Wider Conversation
Those who read the piece in The Deacon following a visit to Gosport Lodge No. 903 in Portsmouth, may recall a moment that left a particular impression on the author. At the close of proceedings, the Worshipful Master invited every visiting Brother to stand. Where multiple brethren attended from the same lodge, they rose together, conveying fraternal greetings from their Master, Wardens, and Brethren, and clearly stating which lodge they represented. It was described as simple yet deeply effective, reinforcing the interconnectedness of our lodges and reminding everyone present that while we meet locally, we belong to something far wider.
The Lodge of Benevolence practises something very similar. All visitors were invited to stand and offer thanks to the Worshipful Master, individually, each in turn. I will confess: no one had forewarned me. Having not encountered this in Hertfordshire meetings, I found myself on my feet with rather less preparation than I might have liked. A small word of advance notice would be a kindness to any future Hertfordshire visitors heading west!
But what strikes me, having now encountered this tradition, is how much it achieves with so little. It is a small gesture that carries real weight. It says: you are not merely an observer here. You are a representative of your lodge, your brethren, and the craft. The Gosport article raised the possibility of adopting something similar closer to home. Having now seen it for myself, in a different province, I find myself more persuaded than ever that it is worth a proper conversation.
Standing Up to Speak — and What I Said
I had the honour of delivering the response to the Visitors’ Toast, which gave me the opportunity to speak about why this lodge, and this evening, meant something beyond the ordinary.
Having used the UGLE Masonic Record Service in advance, I was able to give a full account of Bob’s record. He joined the Lodge of Benevolence in 1963 and remained a member until 1998, a full 35 years. He served as Worshipful Master from 1979 to 1980. He was a member of Chapter. He went on to serve as Senior Deacon for the Province of Devon.
Speaking those words aloud, in the room where he had served them, was something I hadn’t quite prepared myself for emotionally. But what followed made the evening truly extraordinary: three brethren came forward who had known Bob personally. Men who remembered him, who could describe him, who placed a personality behind the name on the board and the dates in the records. For someone trying to understand a part of their grandfather’s life they never thought to ask about while he was alive, that was, and I do not use the word lightly, priceless.
Festive Board, Carols, and a December Well Spent
The evening’s warmth carried naturally into the Festive Board. A full Christmas dinner with all the trimmings was served and thoroughly enjoyed, and the brethren rounded off the meal with carols. Unashamedly festive, unpretentiously joyful, exactly right.
New Friendships and Future Possibilities
The evening also opened a door I hadn’t anticipated. I made contact with Devon’s Provincial Communications Officer, who is involved with the Devon Light Blues Club. We spoke about the possibility of combined meetings and joint visits, a genuine symbol of fraternity between our two provinces. He was enthusiastic at the time, and I am hoping to reconnect with him ahead of the Light Blues meeting in May to take things further. An open invitation stands for any brethren of the Lodge of Benevolence who might wish to visit us in Hertfordshire, and I very much hope they will take us up on it.
In the meantime, the lodge has added me to their summons mailing list, which means that on my regular trips down to visit my grandmother and mother, I can attend when the diary allows. Something tells me I will.
A Final Thought
I set out for Devon hoping to find a lodge that knew my grandfather. I came home having found something I didn’t know I was looking for: a fuller picture of a man I wish I had asked more about while I still could.
Bob Trickey served this lodge faithfully for 35 years. He rose through its chairs, served his province, and earned a decanter that now sits on my shelf. The lodge couldn’t find his regalia when I asked, but they gave me something better: an evening that brought him back, just a little.
If this piece encourages any Brother to look into their own family’s Masonic history, or to visit a lodge with a personal connection they have been putting off, go. Don’t wait. Ask the questions while you still can.