In my father’s Masonic Bible, which I inherited, there is much good and interesting material. I did not follow in his steps as a Freemason, but I admire him for having been one. I did not ask him much about it when he was alive, nor have I investigated such secret-society-related matters beyond my own interests in Ordo Templi Orientis and Thelema.
However, there is that strange matter of May 31, 1957.
Dad attained his highest Masonic degrees on that date, according to notations he put in the Masonic Bible. This happened in Atlanta, Georgia, the city of my birth (Georgia Baptist Hospital, now Wellstar Hospital Center), in ceremonies that took place three days before I was born there. My father and mother lived in Roswell, Georgia at the time, and the location was convenient for them. And yet, it seems curious. Just three days before June 2, the date when my mother, under quite a bit of sedation and/or pain-killing medication, and with the aid of a pair of forceps if the most often repeated account is trustworthy, gave birth to me. The attending physician was one Dr. Fish.
The Masonic Degree received by my father on May 31, 1957 was right up there in the low teens. It was one that came with some special titles, and also was associated with recognition that the spark of Divine revelation is in all major faiths, despite them all departing from that Central Holy Truth in some way.
Three days before I was born. Thoughts of midichlorian tampering and Kwisatz Haderach engineering spring to mind, though North Georgia and Fulton County are about as far from being desert planet environments as one could wish. And in the light (!) of my recent May/June-centered and surprising inspirational episodes, my near-enlightenment experience happening before and on my 65th birthday, well, thinking back on this relatively recently revisited family history has been … interesting. Heir-raising, even.
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