Jeffrey R. Horton, 32°

The Sword of State, carried by the Grand Sword Bearer of the Supreme Council, 33°, is a symbol of authority, just as the Tyler's sword is a symbol of protection. Photo: © Maxwell MacKenzie, Washington, D.C.

I served my Lodge, Marion McDaniel #56, Tucson, Arizona, as Master for the second time in 2002. My officers were different than the ones who served with me in 1990 except for one, my Tyler. Each time I chose my father, John Orville Horton, to be my Tyler, and, although he would have been just as happy on the sidelines, he agreed both times to take the office.

In a way, my father has always been my Tyler throughout my life. The job of the Tyler is important, but often overlooked by many in Lodge as well as in life. The Tyler protects us from "cowans and eavesdroppers" and from undue interruptions.

I grew up in the 1960s. It was a time of great change in every aspect of society. As I listened to rock and roll, my father listened with me. Never once was he critical. He told me how my grandparents disliked his love of jazz and that he could see the good in all music, even rock and roll. He said you should never be quick to judge something that you don't understand. Instead, take the time to learn more about it and only then decide what is good or bad. He still prefers the sound of the big bands but also recognizes that the Beatles were talented and their music was good.

Illegal drugs also came prominently on the scene during the decade of the 1960s, and I wondered what Dad's thoughts were on the subject. Was I surprised by his answer! He told me about drug use in the 1930s and '40s. It was nothing new, only now it was headlined in the media. People who used cocaine were called "snowbirds" in Dad's time and were to be avoided. He said there will always be weak-minded people who think they need something more to make their lives better. It was his explanation that kept me away from drugs. He never said "Don't do it." Rather, he explained why people took drugs and asked if I wanted to be part of such a dependent, going-nowhere group.

My life's Tyler never kept anything from me. What he did do was set an example to live by and let me make my own decisions based on a firm foundation of right and wrong. I was 21 when I returned home from serving in the Army, and my mother took me aside to tell me that if I wanted to become a Mason, I should ask my father. There were questions in my mind about joining anything, and he told me only I could make that decision. He was sure there would be a right time for me someday. Again my Tyler knew what was best.

As I began my career, I found myself working odd hours and being transferred from New York to California and, finally, Arizona. By then, my job and family had settled down to the point where I was working regular daytime hours. I finally decided it was time to become a Freemason, and, at age 35, I petitioned Marion McDaniel Lodge #56 in Tucson. When I told my father about becoming a Mason, he sent me a check for the fees. It seems his father did the same for him. My Tyler had just helped open the door of Masonry for me. He was unable to see my Degrees, but he looked forward to coming to Arizona just to be able to sit in Lodge with me.

The author's father, John Orville Horton, is a 50-year Mason, the Tyler of his son's Lodge, and of his son's life.

After a few years, my parents did move to Arizona, and my father took dual membership with my Lodge. Over the years, his advice has served me well, and, although he had no desire to hold an office in Lodge, he did agree to be my Tyler. I have been fortunate in my life to have such a close relationship with my father. His advice has help me become aware of life's "cowans," and, because of his example, I have been able to hold on to my own values even when others have not agreed with me.

A few years after my mother died, I had my father move in with me so that I could care for him. His eyesight and hearing have diminished, and, although he was reluctant to come live with my wife and me, he now believes it was the right move. I have become his Tyler and I wouldn't have it any other way.

At 89, my father still enjoys going to Lodge with me, and every once in a while the Master will ask him to fill in as Tyler. Having a Tyler for your life is a good thing. I know, for I have been so very blessed.

Jeff Horton was raised a Mason in 1983, was Master of San Pedro Lodge #55, Benson, Arizona, in 1994, and is active in O.E.S., the Shrine, and the York and Scottish Rites (Degree Director of the 6°, Valley Tucson). His son, Bro. Phillip Horton, is in the U.S. Air Force, currently stationed in Afghanistan. Bro. Horton retired from IBM in 1995. Contact: 9139 E. Calle Diego, Tucson, Arizona 85710; hortonsjp@msn.com