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LAUREL DRULEY: Diane Lutzke recently moved to Plainview from Rochester, because she missed the simplicity and friendliness small towns offer. She bought a 100-year-old building in Plainview, restored it, and turned it into a cafe. The sign reads Rebekah's Cafe. She named it after the women's chapter of Odd Fellows, a philanthropic fraternal society.

She became a member to learn about the group and liked the message so much she decided to name her cafe after them. For 100 years, this building was the Odd Fellows lodge. And Diane Lutzke is not about to change that.

The Independent Order of Odd Fellows date back to the 1600s in Great Britain. The first US chapter opened about 100 years later. They're the first national fraternity to establish women's lodges. The working class group helped the sick, bury the dead, and cared for orphans. They were once considered odd, because they gave to others, even though they had little to give.

Membership is dropping. In Plainview, there are only a handful of active members. Many of the lodges are closing. The Plainview chapter receives props and costumes from closed chapters all over the state. Robes and masks hang from the walls of the Rebekah Cafe. Some of the items are, well, odd. Lutzke has a collection of skeletons and coffins used in what they call their mortality degree.

[GONG SOUNDS]

DIANE LUTZKE: This would be sounded with a rhythmic, like a death knell sort of thing. It is announced that his eyes are open to his own mortality. And they flip the little hoodwinks open. And he is looking at a skeleton. Now, personally, why people didn't scream and run out of the room? I don't know.

Other organizations like the Lions Club and Elk lodge have quirky rituals. There are Odd Fellow chapters around the world. At one time, Minnesota had a lodge in almost every town. Today they have several hundred members. Lutzke says what the Odd Fellows stand for is still essential today.

DIANE LUTZKE: It's what people are really looking for. People want to go back. They're coming to a small town. They're coming to Plainview, not for a bedroom community, but for what it offers. There's something there that's different. And it's better. And you can't really feel it, until you live it.

LAUREL DRULEY: Lutzke says some of the rules seem a bit silly.

DIANE LUTZKE: Two elderly ladies in their 90s would go around to the rest of the six people, whom they've known all their lives, and collect the secret password at the beginning of each meeting to make sure there were no strangers in their midst. They would either say, well, I can't hear you, and go on to the next person. Or they'd have them shout the password, the secret password.

LAUREL DRULEY: Recruiting new members has been 80-year-old Ray Schultz's mission for the last decade. He says, now that women can join the Odd Fellows, membership should go back up. He also says the fact that they are a secret society scares people away. They perform theatrical rituals where members earn awards or degrees.

RAY SCHULTZ: When you mention something secret, I think, well, there must be something wrong with it, you know? The only secret thing we have is, of course, our degree work, which teaches people how they should act toward others.

LAUREL DRULEY: He agreed to a radio interview, because he hopes to dispel myths and gain members. It's highly unusual for Odd Fellows to allow a meeting to be taped.

RAY SCHULTZ: Now, I may get in trouble with that. But I'm old enough not to care.

LAUREL DRULEY: Ray's wife, Wilma, was the first female Odd Fellow in Minnesota. She says people should make the time to help others.

WILMA SCHULTZ: I can remember the time that we could leave our doors open and not have to lock them, because our neighbors were so trustworthy. Well, that's what we're trying to get back in.

LAUREL DRULEY: The rap of the gavel calls a recent Rebekah meeting to order.

[PEOPLE SINGING]

Cafe owner Diane Lutzke has adopted the Rebekah creed, friendship, love, and truth. While the creed is timeless, she says some of the practices are outdated.

DIANE LUTZKE: Back then, if you couldn't depend on each other, there was nothing. And while it may not be as necessary today to depend on each other, we still need each other. We still need to be connected.

LAUREL DRULEY: Plainview has gone through many changes since the Odd Fellow lodge first opened its doors. In the last decade, the town of 3,000 has grown to include a large Hispanic population, so the community has had to adjust. Some migrant workers find a sense of belonging at church, others through their jobs and extended family. Irene Rodriguez was recently hired to serve as a liaison and translator.

IRENE RODRIGUEZ: They, too, want to feel a sense of community, where they want to raise their children and send their children to school and just be accepted just like everybody else.

LAUREL DRULEY: She says Plainview residents want their Hispanic neighbors to feel welcome. But they don't know how to make them feel accepted.

SPEAKER: Is it good to be together in the name of the Lord again?

AUDIENCE: Yeah.

LAUREL DRULEY: At a recent ecumenical service at the Presbyterian Church in Plainview, every pew was filled. This is Pastor Paul Moore's church. He helped start the migrant council and hired Irene Rodriguez. When the sign of peace is offered, people walk across the sanctuary to greet each other

Moore says long-time residents feel a sense of ownership. But he says it's difficult for migrant workers, who are only here six months out of the year to feel like they belong.

PAUL MOORE: I think the people in Plainview accept the Hispanic community. They're not against them. I don't think they look at them as lower people. But they don't know them that well. So we have two separate communities within Plainview. I think it's a sense of benign neglect.

A lot of people in the, quote, "white community" don't run into Hispanics. They don't run in the same circles. As long as they don't cause a lot of troubles or get into problems or destroy their property, they're fine. They're doing the jobs that a lot of white people won't do.

LAUREL DRULEY: Cafe owner Diane Lutzke says it all boils down to the Rebekah Creed. It says, in God's eyes, we are all brothers and sisters. Lutzke says what she loves about Plainview comes from the Rebekah and Odd Fellow community. She hopes to help the group survive. With or without the club's, the desire for community, in whatever form, still exists. Laurel Druley. Minnesota Public Radio, Plainview.