--ARTTURNE.JAN
                      Freemasonry Wins Again!

                      D.S. "DAN" TURNER, 32
         7175 South Poplar Way, Englewood, Colorado  80112

                                 
     Back in the l950's, while pursuing my profession as a field
geologist, I was driving my Jeep in the hinterlands of southern
Utah on a uranium exploration job.  Suddenly, my Jeep coughed and
quit in a dry gulch.
     Even with a full packet of tools and a modicum of technical
know-how on Jeep engines, I was barely able to get it going again. 
Chugging along, sputtering and bucking like a western bronco
through the loose gravels of several arroyos, I finally emerged
onto a dirt road.
     I sighed with relief thinking that at last I would encounter
someone or someplace sooner or later.  After an hour or so and many
more miles, a little desert town gave me some respite from the
dust, heat and struggle.  A small single-bay service station with
a mechanic's shingle over the door was a glorious sight!  In
addition, a country bank, general store, cafe, stable and a few
dilapidated homes were sprinkled here and there along the road.
     The cordial mechanic and station owner, without much work,
could tackle my problem immediately.  As he labored on the Jeep and
I watched, we told stories of our desert experiences, complained
about the heat, and exchanged hair-raising rattlesnake stories.  As
he wiped the grease from his hands with a kerosene-soaked rag, I
noticed a 32 ring emerge from the grime encasing his knuckles.
     The bill would be $150.  In the l950's, with gasoline about 28
cents a gallon, I never carried that much cash in the field! 
Credit cards were not yet in vogue, and since I was a stranger in
town, the mechanic logically declined to take my check.  Cash flow
was a problem in his business in a remote outpost.  What to do?
     Suddenly, the Masonic light dawned!  I held up my grubby right
hand to show him my 32 ring, asking if there were other Brothers
in town who might have a cash reserve on hand.
     "Oh, yes," he said cordially.  "I'll introduce you to the
president of the bank.  He is a 32."
     We scuffled along stirring up the red dust of Main Street and
crossed over to the bank.  There, sitting behind his desk and
talking to the lone teller, was a Brother of us both, quite a
rarity then in Utah, especially so far out in the desert.  My ring
and a Rock Mountain Consistory dues card were perfectly
satisfactory!  I paid my mechanic and Brother rescuer on the spot,
and the three of us plodded through the dust of Main Street to the
cafe for lunch.
     Freemasonry wins again! 



Retiring from a long career as Professor of Geology at several
large universities, Brother Turner is a member of the Rocky
Mountain Consistory, Denver, Colorado, and is now a geological
consultant for the Rocky Mountain area.

