You can address your comment to one or millions since 1964.

Admiration, that’s how it began for me. My parents died at age 42 and 44 respectively. At 19 years of age, I would begin my family with a wife of two years, a 15-year-old brother, and a 13-year-old sister. The only person older than me was my Grandfather. He called me to say that I was not alone. He told me to rely on prayer. He also said, anytime I didn’t know what to do (next), give him a call. I did. Over the ensuing years, there were many calls. There were more in the beginning and less as my family, including my siblings, grew to eight (for a time). My Grandfather said, “When you call, I will give you the principle upon which to make a decision. Make no mistake, the decision will be yours and yours alone.” When he was 87 he called me from Lake Isabella where he was living. I was living in Bakersfield, CA, and was reasonably close to him. I was forty minutes away. He said, “DR, I need you to pick me up today and take me to the hospital.” I asked why, knowing he would tell me in his own time. When I arrived, he was packed and quickened his pace to get in my car. He was not a man of many words. However, on the way to the hospital, he became “chatty Kathy.” He had so much that he wanted to say to me. He could hardly speak fast enough. Included were instructions, words of wisdom and so much more. Just before we pulled into the hospital's parking lot, he stopped talking and waited for me to park. Once parked, he said, “Will you become a Mason?” I said, “You know I’m running a business that covers three states. I hardly see my wife and kids now. Why would I take on more?” Here’s what changed my life. He said, “You know all of those principles and values we’ve discussed over the years? I said, “Of course. They have made me a better man.” He said, “How would you feel about becoming a Mason if you understood that the principles and values I’ve shared, have all come from Masonry and or the Bible?” I said, “There’s no doubt, I will be a Mason.” Then he went on to tell me that he had been a Mason since he was 21 years old. How And Why I Became A Mason My wife and I met and spent the next two weeks asking deep questions. You know the ones. The hard questions you think to ask just before you get divorced. Neither of us wanted to fail, again. Our marriage has lasted almost twenty-eight years. It’s because when we committed to each other, we knew what we were getting and what we each wanted. One of those deep questions from me to her was, “My Grandfather asked and then committed me to become a Mason. I don’t know how, but, is that a problem for you?” She said, “No problem here.” I thought great, now I just have to find out how. We’d been married about a year when I told my bride, “I’ve been thinking a lot about my Grandfather and becoming a Mason. Are you still O.K. with that? The next thing she said caught me off guard. Her words were, “Why don’t you call my Dad? He’s been a Mason since 1954. He joined the original Hollywood Lodge. To my surprise, my Father-in-law, Preston M. Jones, PP, 33, PM was well known in California Masonry. He had been an Inspector for the Grand Lodge for over twenty years. He was the El Bekal Potentate in 1981, Master of the International City Lodge in 1982, President of the Scottish Rite Charity in Long Beach, CA, and Master of the Robing Room for more than twenty-five years. It didn’t take long. I asked him to be one (a Mason). Then the process began. I learned so much more than my Grandfather had led me to understand. It wasn’t long before my Father-in-law (Dad) and I were always present at Masonic activities and with our wives. July, in California, is dedicated to letting others know you’re a Mason and why. I hope this story was helpful. See you on the square.

What Makes You Happy?  Quick, list five things (that are not food).

At Times, All I Did Was Travel  One of many life lessons learned while traveling.

DR Rawson Family Crest and Coat of Arms

I've just completed my third back surgery.

My Best Friend's Best Decision

Why I Write Why Do You Write

One Should NEVER Write about RRP It's also said that we shouldn't talk about it in public. Race, Religion, and Politics Growing up in the 1950s and 1960s in America, there were some rules that everyone was expected to follow. Unfortunately, if everyone followed those rules, we would never see real change in America. When I was growing up in the 1950s, I was so busy living life and breaking rules that it never occurred to me there was a rule. Race, Religion, and Politics were three topics you were never supposed to talk about or write about without people getting very upset. As a homeless kid at nine and ten years old (in the fifties), my sister and I went to the only school we could. Except for a few teachers, everyone was Hispanic but us. Our blonde hair and blue eyes made us look decidedly different than everyone else. As life changed, so did schools. We weren't homeless, however, we were still living in the poorest part of San Diego. Our middle school was all African American except for my sister and me. In each case, we thought it was normal, different but normal. Today, I couldn't be more grateful for my early childhood experiences. I had learned about poverty firsthand, but, it was in high school I also learned what it meant to be a different race. In high school, fifty-five percent of us were Jewish. Twenty-five percent were Hispanic. The rest of us were almost anything. We had East Indian, Indian, Muslim, and first-generation kids from Italy, England, Australia, Scotland, France, and then there were the rest of us mutts. I found out that I'm of English and that my lineage is as far back as the fourteenth century. That's a story for another time. At age forty-six, my first wife and I divorced. It was months before I decided to date. It was 1991 and I was so confused. The last time I dated anyone was in 1965 just before I entered the military. In October of that year, I married my first wife. We all know that there are so many choices. Personally, I've never had a belief in racial differences. My accidental and UnLikely upbringing almost ensured that I wouldn't. Here are the choices that I saw before me, white like me, and so many shades from where I was to a very dark rich chocolate. All of that was available to me. Then there are the additional considerations of age, height, and weight. So many choices. My first date came as I was explaining my sense of confusion to a beautiful young woman. She was five feet ten inches. She was also (from my perspective, much younger than me). She asked the question, "So, how do you like being single?" I expressed my sense of confusion with all the choices before me. I shared the information I've just shared with you. Then, I said, ". . . for instance, would a young woman like you consider going out with a man my age?" She said, "absolutely." I said, "How about I pick you up at 7 pm this Friday night?" She said, "Great, it's a date. Here's my address." That evening I found out that her father arrived in America at age twenty-two from Italy. Her mother arrived from Mexico at age 20. They met and married two years later. I was slightly older than her father. Opps, I don't think either of us thought that through. Still, we dated for several months. She loved putting on four-inch high heels. That way, she was only one inch shorter than me. It would be a few years before I met the love of my life.