The Subtlety of Fraternity
When you encounter a man who is wearing a Masonic ring, lapel pin, or tie tack, you are witnessing the Subtlety of Fraternity. The clue is there for you, should you wish to open a conversation. It is not overt, it is not compulsory, but when the circumstances permit it, there is no reason why you should not greet your brother and make yourself known to them.
I have found myself in this situation a number of times - I do not wear anything Masonic in my day-to-day life, so it is the brother that I encounter whose subtlety initiates the exchange. The reason I do not wear jewelry is a practical one - I am in a wheelchair, so rings on my fingers can irritate them - and I try not to wear a tie when I can help it (grin). Depending on the temperature, I either wear a leather jacket, or my old flight jacket, which is much warmer, but neither seems to be the appropriate place for a lapel pin considering that they do not have lapels…
On the tube in London on the way to visit the Nelson Memorial, I encountered two men who were dressed in typical business suits - neither displayed anything that would indicate that they were followers of The Craft - until I noticed the brass buttons on one of their vests - the Square and Compass. How very subtle.
At the State House in Boston I was covering a story, and I encountered a fellow member of the press who I sort of know but am not friends with. As we sat next to each other, he pulled out his notebook - a moleskin cover that you slide the standard reporter’s / evidence pad into. Embossed into the cover was the Square and Compass. How subtle.
On a flight between Amsterdam and Boston, I was confident that I would have plenty of room because the door was minutes from closing, and the two seats next to me were empty. Just seconds before the door closed, a very thin and scruffy man boarded, made his way up the aisle, and yes, glanced at the designator plate for my row and nodded to me as he stored his bags in the overhead bin and took his seat on the aisle. So much for laying down across the seats, I thought. From appearances we did not look like we might share interests - until he removed a pocket watch from his jacket to check the time - and as it opened the first few bars of the Magic Flute played, and I saw, engraved in its cover, the Square and Compass. How incredibly subtle.
On the beach in Florida on holiday with my family we were seeking the solace of the sun in mid-Winter, sitting on the sun chairs, an umbrella overhead, and cold boat drinks in our hands, when a couple with accents that screamed “Alabama” sat down next to us. They were loud, they were happy, and they were too close to disturbing the peace that I had been enjoying. The gentleman ordered a can of beer from the beach waiter, and when it arrived, he pulled a foam can-coazy from his wife’s beach bag and slid the can into it. The dark blue coazy had, in gold print, the Square and Compass, and the name and location of his lodge. How usefully subtle…
We were in the process of extracting me from the car at the service plaza on the New Jersey Turnpike to get something to eat on a trip to DC when a large burly and very hairy man pulled up and parked nearby on his motorcycle. He was with five other similarly attired, leather-clad men - and one of them pointed at our car. Without a word, the man approached the car and surprised my wife, who was trying to remove my wheelchair from the boot, when he stepped next to her, reached in and pulled it out as if it weighed as much as a feather. She stood siltenly as he opened the chair and positioned it nearby my door, and then he smiled, and spoke - “I saw your sticker, brother,” he said, and then returned to his mates and they went into the plaza. On his back was a large patch whose central theme was a Square and Compass.
The sticker that he was referring to was a small white Square and Compass that I received in a book that I was given by my sponsor on the night that I was raised to the third degree. I had placed it in the rear window of the car - but my dachshund has since eaten it off of the window. Perhaps I should get a medallion for my car - that is a very subtle sign, I believe.
This past December I was waiting for my wife to finish her Christmas shopping, sitting in the food court at the mall in Hyannis drinking a hot chocolate and reading a book that had just come in the mail - The Freemasons: An Illustrated Book of an Ancient Brotherhood - when I felt a tug on my elbow.
I looked up to see an older gentleman standing there - he smiled at me, nodded to the book, and told me that he has a small dog about ‘this tall’ that likes to lick his neck ‘just so.’ I invited him to join me for some hot chocolate, and I learned that he had retired to the Cape but was originally from Boston, and had found Freemasonry while he was working in England in the 1950’s. It was an interesting conversation, and it happened because of the book I was reading.
Signs of a subtle nature are all around us - we just have to look for them. Certainly we, as Masons, have no corner on the market when it comes to subtlety, but on the other hand we are pretty good at it. Here is to subtlety in all its forms - it has served well to introduce me to people I never would have known otherwise, and I trust it will serve you all just as well.
Cheers!
CMBF
