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At one time fraternal societies like the Elk and the Moose thrived. In America's small towns they gave people a place to belong. Towns once relied on those organizations to create community. Dwindling membership means clubs are either being redefined or disbanding altogether. Some say the only way the clubs will grow is if they change with the times. We take a look at what community means to long-time residents and new comers in Plainview, Minn.

	Diane Lutzke holds a Rebekah banner, one of many sent to her as lodges close across the state. See more images of Rebekah's Cafe. (MPR Photo/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 dates back to the 1600s in Great Britain. The first U.S. chapter opened about 100 years later. They're the first national fraternity to establish women's lodges. The working class group helped the sick, buried 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.

Some of the items are, well, odd. Lutzke has a collection of skeletons and coffins used in what they call their mortality degree.

"The gong would sound like a death call. Why people didn't run away screaming I don't know," says Lutzke.

Other organizations like the Lions Club and Elk Lodge also 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 essential today.

"It's what people are really looking for," she says. "They're coming to a small town - to Plainview - not for a bedroom community, but for what it offers. There's something there that's better and different. You can't really feel it til you live it. Life is much simpler."

"I am a Rebekah. I believe in Friendship, Love, Truth. Charity that faileth never. In God's eyes we are all brothers and sisters. I am a Rebekah. " - The Rebekah creed

Lutzke says some of the rules seem a bit silly.

"Two elderly ladies in their 90s would go around to six other people who they've known all their lives to collect the secret password. Some were hard of hearing. 'I can't hear you,' so they'd shout the password."

Recruiting new members has been Ray Schultz's mission for the last decade. Schultz, 80, 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.

"When you mention something secret, they think there must be something wrong with it. The only secret thing is our degree work that teaches people how to act toward others," says Schultz.

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.

"I may get in trouble, but I'm too old to care," he says.

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

"I can remember a time when we could leave our doors open, because our neighbors were so trustworthy. That's what we're trying to get back in," says Wilma Schultz.

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

	Ray Schultz has been trying to recruit new members to the Odd Fellows and Rebekahs. He's been a member for 20 years. His wife, Wilma, became the first female Odd Fellow in Minnesota last year. (MPR Photo/Laurel Druley)

"Back then if you couldn't depend on each other there was nothing. While it may not be as necessary today to depend on each other, we still need each other - we still need to be connected," says Lutzke.

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.

"It's the place where they want to raise their children, and they want to be accepted like anybody else," says Rodriguez.

She says Plainview residents want their Hispanic neighbors to feel welcome, but they don't know how to make them feel accepted.

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.

"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," says Moore. "It's like we have two separate communities within Plainview. It's benign neglect. A lot of people in the white community don't run in the same circles. They're doing the jobs that a lot of white people won't do."

Cafe owner Diane Lutzke says it all boils down 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 clubs, the desire for community - in whatever form - will still exist.