by Christopher Hodapp
It began in a bar, as only the finest, dazzlingly harebrained schemes should, over watery glasses of well-brand scotch. It was predictably frigid in Washington, D.C. that February on the Saturday night of Masonic Week, too cold to sit outside and smoke pipes and cigars while weaving plans within plans with fellow plotters and organizers of secret cabals.
Masonic Week of 2008 was one of those moments you can look back on and say that
right then was when things changed. There ...
Published on August 20, 2020 13:21