A U.S. Army combat tank, topped with a 37mm gun, squats permanently on the front lawn of American Legion Post 179, in Grandville, Michigan, a few miles southwest of Grand Rapids. Inside the corrugated tin building, plastic chairs teeter in the entrance under a copy of an Iwo Jima poster and an American flag. Faded photos of veterans crowd the walls.
Under fluorescent bulbs in the main room, men in sequined fezzes welcomed people to the raffle. Tables and chairs faced forward, as if for bingo. By 10 am, Bob Seger bellowed from the speakers as the pulled pork, which was smoked in the pitmaster’s backyard for 20 hours, began scenting the room. A 15-year veteran of the police department inconspicuously spat tobacco at the bar, where the beer was flowing.
The potential winnings were displayed on an armorer’s table at the back of the room: dozens of freshly unboxed rifles, various Glock handguns, shotguns, scopes, boxes of ammunition. A commemorative Shriners rifle was displayed on a stand above them all.
This was the fourth annual Saladin Shriners Sportsman’s Raffle, put on by a Michigan chapter of the Shriners International organization, which was established as a Masonic fraternity in 1872. The organization says its mission is to keep alive the youthful spirit in men “by offering wholesome companionship, clean fun, and a welcome escape from the worry, carte and the drab routine of our daily lives.” All Shriners are Freemasons but not all Masons are Shriners; the organization seeks to disseminate traditional values of morality, self-improvement, and community service. In its 152-year history, the Shrine has recorded more than three million members, including Warren G. Harding, John Wayne, and FDR.
Considering how many young people are killed or injured by firearms in the U.S. every year — firearms are in fact the top cause of death for this group — raffling guns is an odd turn.
The Shriners’ creed is, officially, to “care for the less fortunate, especially children who suffer from burns and crippling diseases.” The organization’s real focus, however, is survival. Chapters are expected to partner with other Masonic fraternities, as well as youth and women’s groups; organize brotherly recreation and bonding, and contribute to their philanthropy, Shriners Children’s, a network of 13 pediatric hospitals and other medical clinics and affiliates established over more than a century. In that time, it claims to have aided more than 1.5 million children.
The hospitals pride themselves on being at the forefront of pediatric care for orthopedic, neuromuscular problems, and spinal cord injuries. Members boast of the work being done there, which serves as the stated charity for each respective temple, though many of the chapters primarily play a role in helping with transportation for patients and their families.
For the last few decades, Shriners have institutionalized local gun raffles to keep their chapters afloat despite declining membership. In 2008, when the organization was among the nation’s wealthiest charities, an internal report documented evidence of ethical and financial improprieties at the highest levels of its leadership.
This year alone, nearly a third of the Shriners’ 177 U.S.-based chapters hosted the lucrative fundraisers, often referred to as a “Sportsman’s Raffle”; some have been hosting them for decades. One chapter, in Texas, recently held its 81st, while the Detroit chapter — revered as the fundraising exemplar — commemorated its 20th year of gun raffles, which it now holds twice annually. This year alone, each Detroit raffle put more than 100 guns in the hands of its winners. In 2024, The Trace documented 51 local Shriners chapters advertising more than 4,500 firearms.
The Shriners International organization did not respond to requests for an interview, nor did Shriners Children’s, formerly known as Shriners Hospitals for Children.
“It’s just a tool for us,” said Mitchell Devrees, the Saladin chapter’s “potentate,” or leader. He won a crossbow as we were talking and, later, a 40 gauge shotgun. “We would be selling batteries or soap or whatever if it was the best vehicle.”
In 2021, guns became the leading cause of death among children and teens in the U.S. Many firearm deaths and injuries among children and adolescents are unintentional, and pediatric firearm injury is associated with high mortality, especially among the youngest victims. The same year that firearms overtook car accidents as the leading cause of death of American children, children under 5 were among the groups with the highest rate of death from accidental shootings, and approximately 40 million children and teens lived in homes with at least one gun. Of those, 4.6 million households reported storing firearms loaded and unlocked.
“We don’t condone anything with firearms that is tragic,” said Devrees.
Still, said member Drew Swanson, “It’s a good fit for the demographic in Michigan.” Swanson joined Shriners because of the hospital philanthropy, he said, flashing a photograph on his phone of a girl who was going to lose her leg before she underwent 18 surgeries at Shriners. “Every time I work one of these events, someone comes up and talks about what it did for them. We treat any child regardless of ability to pay.”
One Shriners hospital, in Philadelphia, is treating a child who was paralyzed by a gunshot wound. Shafir Tate, 17, was hit by a stray bullet last year while he was waiting for a friend at his neighborhood basketball court. His mother, Jasmine Tate-Supplee, said he was transported by ambulance to St. Christopher’s hospital before he was moved to Shriners. “You never think anything like this is going to happen, not to you, your family, your child. It is emotionally hard to wrap your head around. He was paralyzed,” she said.
Her family has joined a community of child patients living with the ever-changing realities of spinal cord injury. “There have been good things to come out of this,” she said, describing the level of attention and dedicated care her son continues to receive at Shriners, free of cost. Though she said she “really doesn’t like” the fact that local chapters hold gun raffles, “I’ve also seen the good they are doing with my own eyes, in multitudes. Here and outside of this country. So many people would not have been able to receive this care.”
An average of 95 children and teens are killed by firearms in Michigan every year, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. The Trace’s gun sales tracker estimates that 346,000 guns were sold in the state so far this year, including 35,860 in March, when the chapter held its raffle. Child firearm mortality rates have steadily increased across the state since 2017.
Yet in Michigan and dozens of other states, Shriners chapters are opting into gun raffles, rather than the demo derbies, toy drives, rodeos, tree festivals, silent auctions, football fundraisers, car shows, barbeques, or even disparate circuses once hosted by most chapters. The sportsman’s events are seemingly mundane, but they’re lucrative; the guns are displayed or described, with excitement, into a microphone onstage, tickets are purchased against the background of booming American music, and the prizes are distributed through a licensed firearms dealer according to federal and state law. By selling $2 to $15 tickets for more than 100 guns, a chapter can bring in upwards of $45,000 in a single day, enough to operate for an entire year.
According to tax law and the Shriners’ own organizational bylaws, the gun raffles should in no way be associated with the temple’s philanthropy, Shriners Children’s. The bylaws state that, when a chapter is fundraising for its operations, “there can be no representation, express or implied, that the proceeds will be for the benefit of Shriners Hospitals for Children.” But it’s often hard to tell where the line is between individual chapter and organizational mission.
“The raffle today is supporting the chapter,” exclaimed Rick Williams, the Saladin chapter’s business manager at the raffle outside of Grand Rapids, who went on to explain the organization’s mission. “Our charity is a network of hospitals that provide help to children in need of orthopedic care and burn victims; we drive people to and from those hospitals.” He then told the audience that a former patient — a child — may be in attendance later in the afternoon, giving attendees the impression that participating in a drawing for an assault-style rifle or ammunition, a handgun or a crossbow, would somehow benefit ailing children.
“We can’t use our philanthropy’s name for this event,” Devrees emphasized to The Trace. “This money is not in any way going to our philanthropy today.” But there was a minivan parked outside with the Shriners Hospitals for Children decal emblazoned on it, one of the transportation vehicles used to help children and their families reach treatment, and several mentions of the hospital’s mission.
“That’s where the money goes, to the hospitals,” said ‘Childcare Chairman’ Tom Van Kampen, whose title is emblazoned in sequins on his fez and who was under the impression the raffle was a hospital fundraiser. “This is our main fundraiser for taking care of the kids, which is our main event. This isn’t about guns, it’s about kids.”
There are many other examples of conflation: tabs on the Tangier chapter’s website place ‘Hospitals’ next to ‘Sportsmans’; in 2023, the Sesostris temple in Roca, Nebraska, explicitly published the headline, “Help Children in Need Though [sic] the Sesostris Shrine’s 19th Annual Sportsman’s Event,” and placed a past potentate — a former beneficiary of Shriners care — on the local news to advertise the event. At an annual conference of the Shrine Fundraising Association, a raffle chairman from South Dakota made a 45-minute presentation on the most effective way to maximize profits through the gun raffles, which he called an “everyman event,” and “our second biggest fundraiser that we have at El Riad, next to our circus.” This is their 20th year.
In the first few seconds of the 10th annual winter raffle in Detroit, which was livestreamed, the hosts play a promotional video featuring a burn doctor from one of the hospitals talking about saving children. People in the massive warehouse gathered to salute American flags onscreen; they thanked veterans, local law enforcement, and introduced the potentate for the national anthem, a recording by LeAnne Rimes. Throughout the event, on the main stage, they are selecting winners of the main raffle, and at one point feature the host of a popular outdoors show.
On a side stage, they’re drawing tickets for Heads/Tails ($5 extra) and the women, whom the emcees refer to as “girls” and “Shrine ladies,” wear tight black dresses and high heels as they hold Henry Lever Action 22s, one of the guns actually on site. On the livestream, men at the table in front of the camera are building a beer can tower, and a stamp periodically flashes onscreen, saying “Fun with a purpose!” The chapter raised $49,645.
When confronted with statistics on child deaths by firearm, the Saladin members in Michigan acknowledged the tension inherent in raising money by raffling guns. “There is some dissonance between raising money through firearms and the statistics of harm to children. We watch the news. We’ve had discussions,” said Ryan Smith, the former potentate. But, he said, the survival of their temple depended on it. “The long and short of it is we’re not particularly good at fundraising. No one has come in to say there’s a turnkey solution to supplant the fundraising of the circus. This is one leader who put this into place.”
Devrees echoed his point: “This came about because one of the members was familiar with firearms and raffles, and we just haven’t changed it.”
Nearly all of the senior board members for Shriners Children’s are members of a chapter that hosted a gun raffle this year. The chairman declined to comment for this story. A source, who requested anonymity due to fear of reprisal, told The Trace that his chapter conflated the fundraising with the hospital for years, and was ultimately pressured to donate the money they raised to the hospitals.
The temple’s raffles have been more successful each year, particularly since 2020, when, during the pandemic, more chapters adopted the gun raffles to raise funds online. But it’s not only in the context of children that the dissonance is acknowledged. The Saladin business manager said the event changed locations at the last minute because it was “not appropriate to have it at the Masons’ temple [in town] because of the psychiatric recovery and mental health rehabilitation of veterans there.”
At the American Legion, the armorers allow a few attendees to handle the weapons. One occasionally rests his right hand on the handgun holstered on his hip. Michigan is an open carry state. A member laments that, in February, the state laws changed so winners can’t take the weapon with them the same day. He explains to the crowd that “now you have to go to the local law enforcement department to get your weapon at a later date,” after a background check.
A preteen Amish boy in black suspenders and a straw hat eagerly peruses the weapons. He purchases a few raffle tickets from a Shriner at the armorer’s table, who rips a playing card and keeps the corresponding half for the raffle. A few minutes later, the kid’s ace of spades is called — he won a 12 gauge. The Shriner pulls the kid aside to tell him that his mother has to claim the gun on his behalf. The kid smiles and nods, elated.
An attendee says that the Amish are avid hunters — rabbit and deer — and have a strong relationship with the Shriners because most hospitals won’t treat them because of their lack of vaccinations; there’s one in Pennsylvania that does, so the transportation offered by the local Michigan chapters is key. By the end of the day, the lanky kid is standing in front of the event poster right next to the stage, with raffle tickets dangling out of his hands, past his knees. He’s holding out hope for the final prize, taking deep breaths and smiling sweetly. The potentate takes a sip of his White Claw, and the final ticket number is called.
