The author remembers his recently deceased father as a quiet man and hero.

Photo: At age 90, Bro. Bill Boyer, 32°, considered the cigar one of the unofficial Working Tools of the Craft.

Not every Masonic hero founded great nations or led mighty armies into battle. Not every Masonic hero painted his achievements on a global canvas or wrote music and poetry to make the angels weep with joy.

Indeed, most Masonic heroes did none of those things. Instead, they went about their daily lives, living a Masonic philosophy of charity, prudence, temperance, and commonsense. In doing so, they became heroes on a very small scale and, when totaled with others like themselves, they left a lasting imprint on the lives of communities, organizations, friends, and their own families.

This morning [October 21, 2001], one of those quiet heroes was summoned by the Great Architect to the Lodge not made by human hands. After nearly 91 years, he welcomed the call to rest and refreshment. That didn't make his passing any easier for those who loved him.

Brother Bill Boyer, 32°, my father, was a member of John J. Mercer Lodge No. 290, A.F.& A.M., Omaha, Nebraska. He came to the mastery of the Royal Secret on April 30, 1953, in the Valley of Omaha. His Masonic career was not spectacular. He never served, as his father and grandfather had, as Worshipful Master of his Lodge. He enjoyed the fellowship of the Lodge and celebrated his 90th birthday with his Brothers, but felt uncomfortable in the limelight of Craft leadership. He was one of the very first members of the Order of DeMolay, being initiated into Omaha Chapter No. 2 in 1922 or 1924, depending on whose records you study. By that time, he was supporting his widowed mother and that took priority. Many years later, he took great pride when I became Master Councilor of the Omaha Chapter and greater pride years later when I was raised a Master Mason.

Brother Bill was the son of a pioneer Omaha family. His mother's family settled in that river town in 1868; his father's family arrived a few years later. The Boyer family grew up with the rowdy town and contributed to its growth in the way that many families did by simply living decent lives. Of course, he had his wild moments. As a teenager, he once terrified his mother by swimming the perimeter of nearby Carter Lake. She discovered his feat when she read the morning newspaper. He was still in the water at the time.

The author is pictured here with his father and son at the latter's wedding.

When he was born, he was entered on the Cradle Roll of Clifton Hill United Presbyterian Church and, in time, became its oldest and longest member. He lived his entire life in the old Clifton Hill neighborhood and married his sweetheart, Margaret, at the family church in 1940. The Boyer family has been marrying and burying from that church since the 1880s.

A veteran of World War II, he served in Motor Torpedo (PT) Boat Squadron 15 in the Mediterranean. In the years after the war, he established Boyer Twine Company, a wholesale cordage and rope sales firm, which he operated until five years ago. He served as a trustee of his church, presided as president of the Midwestern Amateur Athletic Union, and helped establish age-group swimming in Omaha. You can read all that and more in his newspaper obituary, but that's not what made him a hero. He learned how to be that, a father, on his own. His dad, Wor. Bro. Frank William Boyer, 32°, died when he was only seven. He was a strict disciplinarian and made sure that his three children understood and practiced his values. Similarly, late in life, when accused of being a "tough old man," Bro. Bill told me, "It wasn't important that I be your friend when you were growing up. It was important that I be your father." From that came a sense of responsibility that has been the hallmark of the family.

What makes him a hero?

I'm not sure. In time, he became my best friend and advisor. As a teenager, I was frightened to death I would grow up like him. Now, I'm afraid I'll never be half the man he was. He became a quiet financial leader in his church and, in his own way, touched the lives of countless people, many of whom never knew he was their benefactor.

Dad was one of those quiet Masonic heroes who made a difference by simply being who they are and living a life that made a living thing of the Masonic virtues. You'll never hear much about such heroes, largely, I think, because they don't realize what they are doing is anything special.

Let me suggest to you that it is. In a society that seems to be without a moral anchor, men like my dad, men who bring a solid set of values and a sense of personal responsibility to the living of their lives, are the real heroes.

Thanks, Dad. We'll miss you, Brother.

William H. "Skip" Boyer has been writing since he was three. His mother objected to crayon on the walls, however, and set his career back several years. A member of the Scottish Rite Bodies of the Valley of Phoenix, Arizona, he serves as Master of Paradise Valley Silver Trowel Lodge No. 29. A native of Nebraska, he is Director of Executive Communications for Best Western International and serves as the company's Executive Producer and Senior Writer. He is a fifth generation Master Mason.