Page 36 - MFM July 2019 W

I Know Who You Are

Robert William Marshall, Grand Lodge of Texas

“I know who you are,” he said with a fatherly smile. failed him. I think it was dementia but maybe it was just
a general decline and his memory took a hit. Whatever
is image was posted by a Brother for a caption the case, I was assigned by the Worshipful Master with
contest and upon seeing it, I immediately recalled one of two other Brothers to go and visit Max at the hospital.
the more special moments of my Masonic career. is is His sweetheart daughter met us outside the hospital
gonna be lengthy but give it a read. I think you’ll be glad room and admonished us, “ ank you guys so much
you did... for being here. It means the world. But look, he isn’t
remembering much and he probably will not recognize
Several years ago, when I was still a new Mason, there you so please, introduce yourselves and chat with him. I
was an elderly brother at my lodge who was kind of a bet he’ll love the company.”
legendary gure. You know the guy. Most lodges have
one. A War veteran, wise beyond his years(though he has So we go in and he greets us with a smile. We introduce
a lot of those too), and a real xture at the lodge. A pillar. ourselves one by one. I happened to be the last one and
followed the sincere intros of my peers.
Max was our large, brazen pillar. At the sh fries, he
sat at the entry table and took tickets. On the table, “Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Robert,” and I reached out
I remember seeing scattered photos of his days as a my hand to shake his. He grabbed it and his hand shifted
WWII pilot. He had been picked up to play ball for the a little awkwardly. I remember thinking that he must
St. Louis Cardinals, but Pearl Harbor changed things, for be a little shaky or something. en he squeezed and I
everybody. recognized exactly what he was doing with his grip.

As I recall, his plane went down in Germany and he “I know who you are,” he said with a fatherly smile.
was a POW. A prisoner of the Nazis, I can’t even imagine...
I get tears thinking about it even now. Look, I know
A few years later, he again served our country as a pilot dementia is messy. I know that him remembering that
in Korea. In fact, by retirement, he had own over 100 handshake and remembering me, in no way, means that
missions. I don’t remember the exact number, but Max Masonry was most important. e brain is weird. And
sure did. His memory was incredible. Max’s wife had dementia just picks away here and there.
passed away before I met him but he still talked about
her with a love I recognized as special. But for some unidenti able reason, Max’s memory
sprang forth out of the dark, unforgiving haze and it let
Yeah, as a young Mason, this was exactly the kind of him reach out to me and grab my hand to tell me that he
man I had hoped to meet and learn from when I came knew who I was. at meant a lot to a young man trying
seeking light. I was 18, a freshman in college, and haunted to answer the question, “Who am I?”
by the same question most of us are, “Who am I?”

I played dominoes with Brother Max. He told me
stories of an era my great-grandfather had told me about.
I cooked with Max’s son-in-law, another member of the
lodge I looked up to. I used the internet and my friend at
the local paper to publicize our sh fry and attendance
went up. e guys really liked that.

Mostly, though, I was just looking forward to another
chance to sit and talk to Max. I was like a thirsty traveler
in a desert and Max was an oasis of experience ready to
give me rich stories and good advice.

en, Max got sick.

I honestly do not remember the exact ailment, and
I’m not even sure I was ever told but I know his memory
Montana Freemason Page 36 July 2019 Volume 95 No. 5