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The Sunday before Thanksgiving in 1990.

VirginiaPM

Registered User
The Sunday before Thanksgiving I was driving a van full of equipment from a trade show in Seattle back to Virginia. At the the I was WM of my mother lodge in Falls Church, VA. I got up at 0500 in Billings MT and got an early start. Too early as it turns out.

About two hours south of Billings, I found a patch of black ice. About as fast as I could say Oh S***, the truck swapped ends and rolled two times. The windshield popped out and I was hit in the back by a tool box going out the front of the truck. The truck slid down the embankment into a frozen creek.
I undid my seat belt and fell out of the truck into the snow. No coat, no glasses came and my shoulder hurt. I walked about six feet from the truck and found my glasses in the snow and my coat. I looked around and realized that I was very alone. No cars or trucks in sight and COLD, about 20 degrees in the middle of no where.

I was picking up my gear from the debris trail when a family stopped on the way to church and helped me pickup my clothes and tools and gear, they gave me some coffee and promised to call the police and rescue squad in the next town. About 45 minutes later the State Trooper and local first responders showed up. About two hours later I was on my way to the local hospital with a dislocated shoulder and some cuts and bruises. I wound up in Hardin MT in a small hospital. A very pretty doctor fixed my shoulder (OUCH) and a couple of sutures and aspirin later I was feeling better.

Called my wife in VA, told her not to worry. Then on a hunch I looked in the phone book and called the local lodge. It turned out that there were several brothers there fixing dinner for a Widows Night. The spoke to Bro. Earle Grosse, Secretary and explained what happened. I told him that needed an hotel and something to eat and a ride. No problem, replied Bro. Grosse. He knew exactly where I was and met me five minutes later. I asked him about a hotel and he said no need for that, I could stay with him and his wife. She was also a great cook.

I attended the dinner and lodge in Hardin over the next three days while I got squared away with my company, insurance, the state police and the local doctor. Earle and I have talked several times since that Sunday.

Freemasonry is first a brotherhood and a fraternity. When I needed it most, a friend and brother came to my assistance on a cold winter day.

I was raised 25 years ago today by my father, uncle and brother. I have been to the East twice and about to go for a third time in two states.
 
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