A century ago Duluth was home to dozens of fraternal orders, clubs that functioned much like college fraternities that dedicated themselves to the intellectual and social development of its members. Of the few that remain today, the Duluth Owl's Club stands alone.
Located at 118 E. Second St, the Duluth Owl's Club is a link to a bygone era of Duluth history.
While most of these orders are struggling to stay afloat, the Duluth Owls are flourishing. “We're in a full upswing,” said Ben Marsen, former president and current bar manager of the Owl's Club. “We've doubled membership in the last six years, which is unheard of.”
Compared to other social clubs of Duluth, the Owl's Club exists for the common man. “It's cheaper than you can drink out in town,” Marsen said. With yearly membership dues at $35, “It's definitely not a rich-mans situation,” Marsen said. “Its working class.”
The formation of the social clubs followed a large influx of immigrants in the late 1800s to early 1900s, when many men opted to join such groups, according to Marsen. While often viewed as secretive, these group's histories do not hide villainous intents.
“They were founded as precursors to unions,” said Marsen. Clubs offering members perks such as insurance and death benefits were a huge draw to early immigrants. Basing themselves on the lodge system of the Freemasons, these orders rapidly spread across the country.
Most have long since disappeared from public knowledge. The Owl's Club in Duluth, founded in May of 1909, nearly did as well.
Founded in South Bend, Indiana in 1904 by John W. Talbot, the National Order of Owls was dealt a devastating blow in 1921. Talbot, according to a Feb 26, 1921 New York Times article, was convicted for violating white-slave trafficking laws at an Owl's Hospital in Indiana. Following the scandal, the national charter slowly collapsed as most Owl's Clubs severed ties in an effort to distance themselves.
Today, the order has gone from thousands of “nests” across the country to a handful of scattered, independent outposts. The national charter is all but defunct. Among those few holdouts, Duluth's Owls Club stands as “just an orphan,” Marsen said.
Now that orphan club has grown up. Marsen credits the club’s revival to an influx of younger members in the past decade, drawn to the club's vintage appeal.
With an old jukebox shuffling 45 records and being the only bottle service club (where members can store their own liquor at the bar for a fee) left in the area, Marsen describes it as a “breath of fresh air” compared to the other bar scenes in town.
The Owl's membership has swelled to around 300 members as well as 150 in the Women's Auxiliary. “We've got representatives of every race and religion,” said Marsen, describing the club's inclusivity.
Compared to the Owl's Club in the 1970s and 1980s, the demographic of membership has changed drastically in the past years. With the remodeling done to accommodate the membership boom and stalwart old members learning to accept men with earrings and women in short skirts, “There's definitely some growing pains,” said Marsen.
While the early benefits of insurance and hazing rituals of old have long since vanished, the Owls are experiencing a renaissance. Hosting community fundraisers as well as entering floats in local parades, the Owls are “doing stuff they haven't in half a century,” Marsen said.
A common misconception, according to Marsen, is that you have to be referred to become a member. The club is open to anyone, granted you have people to speak to your character. After a two month trial period, you are voted in full membership.