Reminds me of a true story when I was invited as a guest to a local Elks Lodge in Point Pleasant Beach, NJ many years ago. It was billed as a clams and beer night .... all you could eat. Well, I accepted the invitation and was surprised to find several people in attendance that I knew at this function. One of them was the current Union President for Jersey Central Power and Light company, Val Loessa. I knew Val from our occasional broken pole call-outs, both of us being linemen; Val with Jersey Central, me with NJ Bell Telephone Company. Well, before I knew it, Val and I were engaged in an undeclared contest to see who could eat the most clams. Pile after pile of empty clams shells were stacked up in front of the two of us on the table along with a couple of empty pitchers of beer. Soon thereafter, the big Elks clock in the very large meeting room began to chime at 11pm (a solemn ritual Elks Toast that occurs at every Elks Lodge in the country at 11 p.m.)

You have heard the tolling of 11 strokes.
This is to remind us that with Elks, the hour of 11 has a tender significance.
Wherever Elks may roam, whatever their lot in life may be, when this hour falls upon the dial of night, the great heart of Elkdom swells and throbs.
It is the golden hour of recollection, the homecoming of those who wander, the mystic roll call of those who will come no more.
Living or dead, Elks are never forgotten, never forsaken.
Morning and noon may pass them by, the light of day sink heedlessly in the West, but ere the shadows of midnight shall fall, the chimes of memory will be pealing forth the friendly message,
"To our absent members."

To which Val muttered loud enough for several offended Elks nearby to take issue ...
"F**k 'em. If they ain't here they don't get any clams".
To which we were promptly escorted out of the building. (My apology to any Elks who are offended by this story)