Author: jjapitana

Read the new issue at californiafreemason.org

Since 2015, the Grand Lodge of California has made a priority of developing new Masonic lodges throughout the state. The idea is to both establish a greater presence in communities without an existing lodge, as well as to offer a greater range of choices to members.

It wasn’t always like this: Only five lodges that launched from 1970 to 2000 are still in existence. However, in the time since then, a whopping 36 new lodges have opened up (including two research lodges), along with four more under dispensation. Of those, 25 were established since 2017.

What has this lodge-building boom meant for the fraternity?

For Danny Foxx and the other charter members of Pilares del Rey Salomon № 886, it was a vision for a Spanish-speaking lodge that wouldn’t just meet and confer the degrees of Freemasonry, but also be a hub of Masonic education and philanthropy. At Seven Hills № 881 in San Francisco, Mark McNee says the challenge was to forge a new culture from scratch. Charlie Cailao, the current master of Palos Verdes № 883, points out that his lodge received its charter over Zoom. As a lodge without a home, his group relied on an unusual commitment from its members to stay together.

That was certainly the case for the eclectic band behind Ye Olde Cup and Ball № 880. Formed as the first “affinity” lodge in the state, Cup and Ball is made up of Mason-magicians who meet at Los Angeles’s venerable Magic Castle.

In this issue of California Freemason, we’re exploring what it takes to get these groups off the ground, how they define themselves within the landscape of Masonry in the state.

Ethnically diverse, culturally attuned, sometimes proudly eccentric, these groups show that while building a lodge is no easy feat, it’s also worth the reward.

Read the new issue at californiafreemason.org

Read the new issue at californiafreemason.org

The parallels between Masonry and magic are clear to anyone who’s sat in a lodge room during a degree conferral or been astonished at a performer’s card trick.

They are both ageless institutions associated with secrets that members promise to keep within the circle. Both require a certain showmanship and panache to deliver a truly memorable experience, but most important, they share some significant membership overlap: virtually every one of the most celebrated magicians of the past 200 years have been Freemasons.

In the Magic Issue of California Freemason magazine, we’re casting a light on some of those connections; we look back at some of history’s famous Mason magicians, sit down with the first-of-its-kind magic affinity lodge, and hear from an expert about one of history’s earliest stage performers.

Read the new issue at californiafreemason.org

Read the new issue at californiafreemason.org

Most people know that there are two things that Masons don’t discuss in the lodge room: politics and religion. Instead, they focus on the things that bind them, not that divide.

Could that be a model for a more harmonious world outside the lodge? Well, yes and no. In this issue of California Freemason, we’re going deep on the idea of common ground—and the way Masons seek it out. Is it realistic for people to never get into heated arguments about politics? Probably not. But Freemasonry gives us a framework for establishing and nurturing relationships in which we seek to move beyond the familiar old hangups that keep so many people at a perpetual distance.

That’s something Masons may be specially prepared to do. Says Past Grand Master Russ Charvonia, “We as Masons are better equipped than any other organization or society that I can think of, including religious organizations, to do this work.”

Read the new issue at californiafreemason.org

Read the new issue at californiafreemason.org

It was 1957 when Grand Master Leo Anderson stood on the corner of California and Taylor streets, at the top of Nob Hill, and looked out over the nearly complete California Masonic Memorial Temple. It had taken more than a decade to get to this point—ten years of planning, false starts, relentless fundraising, and even tragedy. But at long last, the temple was rounding into form.

“Hardly a day has passed since construction was started that I have not gone to the top of Nob Hill to watch the workmen at their labors,” Anderson wrote. “I saw it as a mighty steel frame, showing the strength and mighty sinews of California Freemasonry. Then they poured the cement that united the structure into a common mass. And finally, as you will now see it, they adorned the Temple with beauty by applying the white Vermont marble slabs that face the building.… Brethren, a part of that building is mine. And even in its unfinished state it is among my most treasured possessions, because it is not something I have bought, but something I have given. I hope every California Master Mason will be able to look upon the California Masonic Memorial Temple with the same pride and sense of ownership.”

In this issue of California Freemason Magazine, we’re casting our gaze anew at our fraternal home. The fact is, the building has only grown more important since those words were written. It’s the meeting place, staff offices, and general headquarters of the Masons of California, yes. But it’s so much more. It’s an architectural treasure, a city landmark, and a thriving arts and music venue. It isn’t just Masons who can look at the building with a sense of pride and ownership; it’s the entire community.

Now, the building is entering a new phase in its evolution—one that will begin to fuse its dual purposes. This October, as thousands of Masons and their family members gather at the CMMT, they’ll see a series of QR codes posted around the building, linking visitors from within the fraternity and outside of it to information about the building’s history, its uses, and its significance to Freemasonry. They’ll also find information about the wonderful Emile Norman endomosaic window, the newly built Freemasons’ Hall, and a primer on what Freemasonry is all about.

Sixty-five years ago, Anderson was bowled over by the significance of the California Masonic Memorial Temple. It’s safe to say it’s lived up to his hopes for it—and then some. We think he’d be awful proud.

Read the new issue at californiafreemason.org

When Saul Alvarado, now a member of Santa Monica-Palisades No. 307, first began researching Freemasonry, he had a good idea about what it was all about. What he was more surprised to learn was Masonry’s importance to Mexican history. Just as the founding fathers of the United States had been Freemasons, so too had the heroes of the Mexican Revolution and the War of Independence. “It was like, wait a second, Mexico has Masons, too?” he recalls thinking. “That really gave me the nudge to learn more. It made me want to get more involved.”

In this special issue of California Freemason, we’re doing just that. We’re taking a Masonic road trip south of the border to learn about the long history of Freemasonry in Latin America, the surprising state of the craft both there and in certain pockets of California today, as well as taking a peek into what the future holds for the fraternity in multiple countries. From an architectural road trip through Cuba’s Masonic lodges, to dispatches from the center of a Masonic population growth in Brazil and Argentina, to inside California’s two Spanish-speaking lodges, it’s a chock-a-block tour through Masonic Latin America.

In addition, be sure to check out some fun online extras this issue, including video profiles of Logia Panamericana No. 513 and Napa Valley No. 93, plus a multimedia slideshow of a 1909 train trip from Los Angeles to Mexico City carried off by a special Masonic delegation.

By highlighting and celebrating the fraternal connections between members in California and those in Mexico, Argentina, and all points in between, we can deepen the bonds of friendship binding Masons together throughout the world and—just maybe—help to usher in our vision of “a world in harmony.”

Says one member in Guadalajara, Mexico, “When you go to a lodge in another country and see someone you haven’t met before, he’s going to call you a brother. It makes you feel like you’re part of something that’s very ancient and very big. I feel like I have a responsibility to keep it going and to keep it great.”

Spoken like a true hermano.

Read the After Life issue: californiafreemason.org/deathsdoormen

These Masons working with death have an intimate familiarity with the other side: an emergency medical technician, a musician-slash-gravedigger, and hollywood’s go-to medium.

By Antone Pierucci

The Lifesaver

Driving an ambulance is about as stressful as it gets. That’s when Dondi Manzon falls back on what he’s learned from Freemasonry.

 

Guillermo “Dondi” Manzon
Emergency Medical Technician
Sunnyside № 57

Health care workers face death and dying on a daily basis. It’s an experience that can rub a man raw if he lets it, especially in the pandemic era. For Guillermo “Dondi” Manzon, an emergency medical technician and former officer for Sunnyside № 577, the philosophical teachings of Masonry are some of his most important tools for staying grounded.

Manzon, 58, didn’t originally set out to pursue his current line of work. When he immigrated from the Philippines in 2002, he had a degree in engineering and experience as a pharmaceutical rep. At first he found a job in marketing for a private ambulance company. But he was intrigued by ambulance work itself, and within a few years he gave up his job to start his next chapter. “Just like that I was an EMT,” he says. Well, not quite: There was training involved. “Lots of training,” he says with a laugh.

A Close Encounter

During his first shift, Manzon immediately had a brush with death. “We got a call for this man who was on dialysis; he was unresponsive,” Manzon says. On their way to the hospital, Manzon had an epiphany of sorts. “I remember staring at this man, who was only in his fifties, and thinking to myself, Wow, I need to lead a good life while I can.” It took him several more years to find Masonry, but when he did, it all clicked. “Here was a group of men who made it their mission to do good in the world,” he says. “I knew I wanted to be a part of this force for good right away.”

Although he had grown up around Masonry, with his uncle and other relatives in the Philippines belonging to lodges, Manzon had never really thought much about the fraternity until he began his second career.

Over the years, Manzon has clung to Masonic philosophy when times get tough. In a dozen years as an EMT, he’s never had a patient die on him, but he’s still seen more suffering than most people. “Freemasonry has helped me deal better with my ill patients,” he says. “It’s given me the tools to be a better man and look after people the best way I know how.” For Manzon, the most impactful tenet of Masonry is the one that charges a man to be an upright citizen. “That directly translates to my work,” he says. “I strive to be a better EMT every day because of it.”

In the end, Manzon knows there’s only so much he can do for the individuals that pass through his care. But with Masonry in mind, he has a framework to better handle the stress his work can entail. “Religion has taught me salvation after death,” Manzon says. “Freemasonry has taught me how to live.”

The Caretaker

A musician and erstwhile gravedigger reflects on what we leave behind.

Dylan Luster
Artist & Gravedigger
Yucca Valley № 802

The first song Dylan Luster ever recorded was written after spending an uncommon amount of time among the dead. He was 25 years old, newly sober, and coming off stints as a gravedigger and crematorium worker. At the crematorium, his task was to crawl into the facility’s incinerators to sweep out the residual ash. The furnace was massive—and imposing—reaching temperatures of 1,800 degrees Fahrenheit. “The door was like 400 pounds of steel,” Luster recalls. “If the chain that was hoisting it up broke, there was no way to lift that thing. Sometimes I think about it—like, jeez, I was in some other mindset.”

The grisly work forced Luster to confront big questions about life and death. And it awakened his artistic spirit. In one of his first recorded songs, “Soul Remains,” he writes, “I been workin’ on my life, through the pain and the trouble and strife / They can break my body, but the soul remains.”

Songs of Transience

Years later, the indie-folk singer still finds inspiration in transience. Luster’s time at the crematorium was bookended by a groundskeeping gig at a cemetery near his childhood home in Norwalk. The work, quiet and contemplative, suited his temperament. While watering flower beds, mowing grass, and yes, digging graves, he let his mind wander. “Once I started to really sober up, I wanted to go back to the peaceful gardening at the cemetery,” he says.

That wasn’t Luster’s only inspiration. Around the same time he decided to get clean, Luster’s mother shared three blue books with him, inscribed with the words “NOVEMBER 6, 1933 INITIATED.” They contained the work The Symbolism of the Three Degrees by Oliver Day Street.

The books had belonged to Luster’s grandfather, who belonged to a Masonic lodge in Fort Worth, Texas. Though they’d never met, for Luster the books served as a channel through which his grandfather could offer him guidance from beyond the grave. Finding Masonry at that tumultuous time gave Luster something to work toward. In 2013, he applied to Golden Trowel Norwalk №. 273; the following year, he was raised to Master Mason. In 2019, he affiliated with Yucca Valley № 802.

Where Your Spirit Goes

Masonry helped Luster navigate sobriety and process his thoughts. “It can occupy your mind with different philosophical questions and different threads to pull,” he says. It also sharpened his thoughts on death. “When I think about the afterlife, I don’t think of some other dimension. I think whatever you do in this world, it impacts other people. That is kind of where your spirit goes.” That outlook in turn helped Luster focus on his music career. In 2016, he released a self-titled EP. Last year, he put out two more singles, “Judy’s Highway” and “Eastward Winds.” Both explore those themes of impermanence—a common refrain in Luster’s work.

These days, Luster has a collection of 10 new songs in the works, grouped loosely on the experience of waiting for something to pass. Each song features instruments played and carefully recorded, one track at a time, by the musician. One of the tunes, “Other Side” could be about achieving a goal—like the completion of an album, or completing the degrees—or reaching the other side of this existence. He’s leaving it up to the listener to decide.

The Medium

 

In Hollywood, Chris Sanders is the go-to guy for the esoteric and paranormal.

 

Chris Sanders
Paranormal Consultant
Culver City-Foshay № 46

Though his official title on the television series My Ghost Story on A&E’s Biography Channel was casting producer, it’d be more accurate to call Chris Sanders a paranormal consultant. His work on the show entailed things like scouting haunted houses, sourcing esoteric experts, and vetting real-life ghost stories.

The gig was just one of many to showcase Sanders’ unusual expertise. And in the years since, he’s carved out a special niche for himself at the intersection of esotericism, metaphysics, and Hollywood. “I knew where to look,” Sanders says of his foray into what one might call supernatural television programming. “I knew how to speak the language of these folks.”

Sanders has had a lifelong interest in “the arcane and metaphysical.” In 2000, newly single, he moved to Los Angeles in search of something new. A chance encounter led him to a Hare Krishna temple, right around the corner from Culver City Foshay № 467. He decided to take a leap of faith. “It was a magical moment,” he says of approaching the lodge. “My prayers were answered. That sent me out on a whole new path.”

Sanders connected immediately to the philosophical aspects of Freemasonry, and within a year had been raised as a Master Mason and was serving as a lodge officer. In 2008, he became lodge master.

An Expert Opinion

His personal interests have also opened some unlikely doors in Hollywood. While Sanders has had small acting roles in blockbusters like Pirates of the Caribbean: At the World’s End, Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland, and HBO’s True Blood, he’s also built himself into an on-screen authority on Freemasonry. In 2009, he was featured as an expert speaker in the History Channel show The Nostradamus Effect, as he was in the 2017 documentary 33 & Beyond: The Royal Art of Freemasonry. In addition, he’s served as a producer on the WeTV series Ghosts in the Hood, performed an exorcism on the 2013 A&E series American Haunting, and appeared as an actor and producer in several cult and horror films.

His entrée came from a suitably unlikely source: A couple of well-known witches who ran an occult shop that Sanders frequented. Having been approached by a TV producer, the shop owners recommended that Sanders be involved in a proposed reality series— which eventually became My Ghost Story: Caught on Camera. “They knew I had a background in the paranormal and was good on camera,” he says.

In February of 2020, Sanders landed his dream gig: a “fly-on-the-wall show” for a major cable network, shot from the barstools of the Little A’Le’Inn, a watering hole near Area 51 in Nevada. “You walk into this strange bar, you’re at the counter grabbing a beer, and the guy next to you is like, ‘I was abducted by Bigfoot,’” he explains of the show’s premise. “And you’re like, ‘Well, I was abducted by aliens.’”

Those are actual stories that would have been featured on the show—if not for COVID-19. Still in early production when the pandemic hit, the project was shelved.

It’s unlikely that project will be raised from the dead, but in the meantime, Sanders isn’t waiting around. Now, he says, his next project will be a memoir. “I thought, What do I have to offer this world?” he says. “The people I’ve met, the things I’ve seen and done. I have these stories in me. And they should be told.”

Read the After Life issue: californiafreemason.org/cemetery

Masonic cemeteries offer a tantalizing glimpse into the history of the fraternity. Now, a pair of frontier graveyards are being brought back to life.

By Ian A. Stewart

 

It was getting close to midnight when the dozen or so members of Logos № 861 walked out of the historic Columbia Masonic Hall and into the street. They’d gathered there for their annual lodge retreat, which features a degree conferral and what often turns into a lively festive board dinner. Now it was time for the unofficial third part of the event. Someone brought along a bottle, and the group headed toward the edge of the tiny gold-rush-era town in rural Tuolumne County, away from the din of the party.

The group hiked through the dark toward the tiny cemetery on School House Street where 110 early members of the fraternity had been lain to rest. In the quiet of the night, the group crossed the picket fence gate and gathered around a large granite stone where a memorial plaque was embedded. “Soft and safe to thee, my brother, be thy resting place,” it read.

The group wandered the overgrown park, stopping to look more closely at headstones dating back to 1853, the year the cemetery opened. At last the members gathered again and, with glasses held aloft, offered three salutes: to one another, to their fellow members around the world, and, finally, to those who’d entered the “celestial lodge above.”

Digging Deeper

Dylan Pulliam, a past master of the lodge, was among those present. For him, the impromptu service resonated deeply. “It’s spiritual,” Pulliam says. “It reminds us that our time on earth is short.” But it was more than that, too. Being among headstones as old as the state of California, the sense of history on display was practically palpable. “It makes you want to dig deeper,” he says.

Pulliam isn’t the only person to have that thought. Though seldom used these days and easily forgotten, cemeteries like Columbia’s play an important role in the history of California Masonry. In many places, they represent the close link between lodges and their communities.

Beginning in 1852, with the first records of California lodges establishing their own burial sites, Masonic cemeteries have provided a final resting place for some of the most important figures in the state’s history. From Shasta to San Diego, they’ve brought Masons together to celebrate, mourn, and pay homage. Packed to the brim with history, they really do make you want to start digging.

An Underground History

The first recorded Masonic funeral in the state occurred in 1849, when an unknown figure was found drowned in the San Francisco Bay. The man was carrying a silver shekel that indicated he was a Mark Master Mason, and had tattoos of various Masonic working tools and symbols. An account of the event published in The History of Nevada, 1881 recounts that “A large concourse attend[ed] the burial; the impressive service of the craft was read; the sprig of acacia was dropped into the grave by the hands of men from all quarters of the globe.”

During the Gold Rush, these sorts of Masonic send-offs were common. Back then, one of the most important roles of the fraternity was to provide a respectable burial for those who’d died penniless and far from home. Soon California lodges, many of them in the Sierra foothills, began to set aside or purchase plots for members and their families. To this day, Masonic cemeteries abound in the area along Highway 49, including sites in Jamestown, Sonora, and Calaveras County.

Among the most notable of these Gold Rush-era grounds was the Sacramento City Cemetery, where an annex was set aside for members of the city’s five Masonic lodges. By the late 19th century, they’d outgrown their corner and banded together to purchase an eight-acre plot adjoining the old graveyard, still known as the Masonic Lawn Association Cemetery.

By and large, these cemeteries were managed by the lodges that controlled them, and later by special associations made up of lodge members. That decentralization meant that it has long been unclear precisely how many Masonic cemeteries there are in California. And whether through sales of property, purchased plots, or co-management arrangements, questions inevitably arose over how lodges were meant to deal with their dead—questions that did not always have easy answers.

Keeping Up Appearances

By the middle of the 20th century, those issues were front and center. So Grand Master Louis Harold Anderson recommended the formation of a Masonic Cemetery Committee to review the status of all Masonic cemeteries in the state. “This is not only a safeguard to the resting places of the brethren who have gone this way before us, but it is a guarantee by California Masonry of today to future generations of Masons that they, too, may rest in peace until time is no more,” he wrote. In 1957, the committee made its first report: It concluded that there were 23 cemeteries owned by Masonic lodges in California; eight more owned jointly with another organization, often the Independent Order of Odd Fellows; plus 27 former Masonic cemeteries now being operated by an outside entity; and 23 instances in which a Masonic lodge owned plots within an existing cemetery.

Within a few years, the committee had taken charge of five historic graveyards whose parent lodges had either gone under or consolidated: These included cemeteries in Columbia, Jamestown, Fiddletown, and Michigan Bluff—all in gold country—and, for a time, Fallbrook Masonic Cemetery in San Diego County. It also took over management of the Peter Lassen Grave and Memorial near Susanville, in Lassen County. (Lassen is credited with bringing the first Masonic charter to California.) In each case, the upkeep of the cemeteries was supported with modest funds from the Grand Lodge and managed by volunteers.

For more than three decades, that committee ensured that the sites were maintained. But by the early 1990s, the transfer of responsibility had been passed through several other committees and boards. By and large, the matter had disappeared from public view. It wasn’t until 2013, when a new committee began looking into the tax implications of cemetery ownership that the issue came up again. After recommending slight changes to the California Masonic Code, the issue was largely put back to rest.

Portals to the Past

To visit a Masonic cemetery today is to be reminded of the fraternity’s long history in California—and its relationship to the earliest days of the state.

At the Shasta Masonic Cemetery, which was founded in 1864 and is operated by Western Star № 2, headstones include some of the most prominent figures in the town’s history. One of them is Daniel Bystle, a pioneer of early Shasta, a charter member of the lodge, and, ironically enough, the town’s first undertaker.

Another such local luminary is engineer Frank Doyle, the “father of the Golden Gate Bridge.” He is buried in the Masonic section of the Santa Rosa Rural Cemetery. In fall 2021, members of Santa Rosa Luther Burbank № 57 came together to install a memorial plaque there honoring Doyle and the more than 100 Masons buried on its grounds. “All the movers and shakers of early Santa Rosa are interred here,” says Paul Stathatos, a member of the lodge who volunteers at the cemetery. “There’s a lot of history here.”

A Personal Connection

In some cases, the local Masonic cemetery embodies larger historical trends. For many years, Ronald Andaya led a team of volunteers from Anacapa № 710 to clear weeds at the Oxnard Masonic Cemetery. Working there, he learned that the Masonic lodge that managed the cemetery had, in the early 20th century, donated a section of the plot to a nearby Buddhist temple so it could bury its Japanese Americans members there. Their remains were prohibited at the time from being interred in nearby Ventura. (The cemetery was recently sold to a private real estate developer, though the burial site itself will be preserved.)

For others, the connection to these places is personal. Dennis Huberty, a longtime member of Milton Lodge № 78 (since consolidated into Calaveras Keystone № 78), has for years served as the de facto head of the windswept Milton Masonic Cemetery, where headstones date to 1850. “It’s a typical pioneer cemetery,” he explains. “We’ve got the place fenced to keep the cattle from tramping all over it.” Huberty’s great-grandfather, William Samuel Dennis, was a past master of the Milton lodge and first worthy patron of its Eastern Star chapter. He was buried in the cemetery in the 1930s. Says Huberty, “You take care of your dead. It’s the most basic reason we’re in Masonry: To preserve history and honor those who were in the craft before us.

Resurrection

It’s with precisely that legacy in mind that a new effort is being launched to bring two historic Masonic cemeteries back to life.

The two cemeteries are the Columbia Masonic Cemetery, inside Columbia State Park in Tuolumne County, and a smaller site in nearby Jamestown. Both suffered from deterioration in recent years, but in November 2020, Grand Lodge staff took the first steps toward a full renovation of both sites. That meant repairing fencing and signage, clearing brush, and making other small repairs. At the same time, workers began making detailed surveys of the topography and conditions-assessment reports. The reports lay out a treatment plan for each monument, headstone, and mausoleum. “We had to determine, inventory, and account for every one,” says Khalil Sweidy, the Grand Lodge director of financial planning and real estate and a member of Columbia Historic Lodge. The effort involved using ground-penetrating radar and specially trained dogs to scour the grounds for unmarked remains.

The plans detailed in the two reports run to more than 30 pages each. They’re also, unsurprisingly, expensive. Now plans are being hatched to fund the most ambitious elements of the work needed to restore the two cemeteries to their former glory. “These cemeteries deserve some attention,” Sweidy says. “It reflects well on us when we take care of our cemeteries. We’ve done a lot of planning and prep work, but there’s still a lot to do.”

In the meantime, those buried in the old cemeteries aren’t going anywhere. And with their weathered monuments, they offer a poignant reminder of the links between generations of Masons. That point was driven home earlier this year for Sammy Hanes, a past master of Western Star № 2 who helps maintain the Shasta Cemetery. The graveyard had been practically wiped out during the 2018 Carr Fire, and a large acacia tree planted there was burned down. This year, though, the first green shoots began to reappear from its roots. Now, the Masonic symbol of regeneration is, once again, coming back to life.

For James Tucker, another member of Logos № 861, the Columbia cemetery isn’t just a trip back in time. It’s also a way to consider the future. “To be there,” he says, “you think about some lodge in the year 2100. For them to come to my grave and toast me, that’d just be the best thing ever.”