This link (
visit link) provides a history of the Lodge which includes:
"t is a matter of history that after Columbus landed on the island of San Salvador, other intrepid explorers rounded Cape Horn, followed its coast line and eventually landed on the shore of what is now Lower California. One of this number, a Spaniard, with two ships and a crew of less than 50 men, sailed into the mouth of what is now known as the Colorado River. The rush of water over a deep deposit of silt and sand was terrific. The water, less than five fathoms in depth, made their progress up stream both slow and perilous, and so with the discovery of a cave far upstream, they cast anchor and the crew divided into two parties, one to follow the course of the river afoot, the other to explore the country inland. After unbelievable hardships, occasioned by the lack of water, the unfriendliness of the native indians, the scorching sun, the burning sands, and the rock-strewn terrain, one of the expeditions arrived near what is now called "Bright Angel Point," and white man beheld for the first time the sublimity of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado River.
The other expedition which had halted in what is today Imperial Valley, traveled eastward. Although being repeatedly warned by the natives that further invasion of their territory would be repelled by force, its commander, however, pushed on through a territory eroded into fantastic shapes by wind and sand, leading his men across trackless desert wastes, over twisted volcanic eruptions, and up precipitous mountainsides "whose unscaled peaks their towering summits reared amid the thunder's sullen roar, and down into barren volleys whose heat rivaled the inferno of Dante. And so, the intrepid explorer pushed his way across what is now northern Arizona and southern Utah, blazing a trail which has become famous in American history.
For more than two hundred years afterward but few white men braved the dangers and terrors of that dim way, but, with the coming of the first Franciscan monks into Southern California, the trail was broadened by the passage of these devotees traveling inland to carry their doctrine to the Red Man, and to establish shrines along the way. And so the route became an established primitive roadway over which succeeding generations were to pass, or send their emissaries toward the "Golden West," lured by the promise of riches and happiness. It was a trail along whose course the bones of men and women and innocent children were to be scattered, victims of hunger, thirst and heat as well as hatred, hostility and treachery, a trail which should mark the development in later years in a rockbound canyon of one of the greatest man-made water systems in the world; destined eventually to reclaim much of the desert wastes, to bring new life and a new population in its wake, and to cause the land to blossom and bloom in radiant profusion.
Generations came and passed on. The muddy flow of the turbulent waters down the rocky canyon and through colored chasms, rushed unceasingly on, to join its murky tide with the blue of the ocean hundreds of miles away. In time, the fame of this unconquered river spread around the world, as travelers came to gaze upon its grandeur, and the rugged beauty of its fantastic, painted walls, and departed to tell of its sublime magnificence.
Foreign countries sent their hordes to look upon its chasms and picture rocks, fitting emblems of Creative Majesty. They stood beneath its towering walls, from which, "not forty centuries, but forty thousand ages," look down upon what are but atoms compared to this immensity. The voice of Divinity spoke in the roar of the swirling waters at their feet, while the artistry of an invisible but Almighty God was reflected in the sculptured forms eroded from the living rock above them, colored by the same Immortal hand, with rainbow hues, taken from a million gorgeous sunsets.
But the river remained unconquered; in time the flow of civilization spread along its banks and men sought to harness its rushing ride, but realized the futility of the task. There came a time, however, when engineering skill declared the project feasible and plans were made to impound its waters and store them, to water the thirsty land and bring comfort, wealth and beauty to a country which bore the stigma of having been forgotten by its Creator.
A site fitted by nature as a bulwark against which the constructive genius of man might build a barrier to dam the river's flow, was found and the conquering of the river was begun. And so, upon high bluffs surrounded by a territory bristling with rocks and boulders, and carpeted with sand, Boulder City was born, gateway to the highest dam ever built. The story of its construction is romantically thrilling and as seemingly impossible as a story from the Arabian Nights, but as alluring as one of Hans Andersen's fairy tales. But the little city is a reality, a monument to the constructive genius of man, and has become a veritable garden, set in the midst of a desert.
With the beginning of this huge enterprise, bound to employ hundreds of men during its construction, came an influx from almost every section of the country, but as the throng was numbered, a place was provided for every man, and every man was in his proper place and under the impetus of law and harmony. Order was created out of confusion, and a beautiful well-planned city sprung into being, upon the site of what but a short time before had been sand, sagebrush and rocks.
In this heterogeneous mass of humanity, in which the artisan, the engineer, the architect, the professional man, and the common laborer, rubbed elbows, in the task of creating order, and building substantially each in his chosen field of endeavor, Masonry was born. For to this spot, hailing from almost every jurisdiction in the country, had gravitated members of the craft who in the natural order of things, soon became known to one another as members of the order, and so, as the little city grew under the skilful hand of trained artisans and builders, and beauty and proportion appeared in well-ordered streets, flanked by commodious homes and attractive business houses, came the desire to build Masonically, and erect a visible temple, wherein Masonic work might be performed, and from whence Masonic Light might be spread. And so fraternal impulses were born, which led to a gathering of the brethren in the early days of October, 1931. The meeting was held in the old Post Office located in the Six Companies' construction camp. At this meeting a request was framed and forwarded to Vegas Lodge No. 32, requesting them to participate in any future Masonic activities of the sojourning brethren in Boulder City. It was not the intention of the brethren at first, to organize a lodge in Boulder City, but to start a Masonic Club where the brethren might meet to exchange Masonic experiences and enjoy social contacts. They planned also, to equip a reading room and fit it for the convenience of the brethren. However, after their first two meetings, their plans were changed, and it was decided to attempt the organization of a Masonic lodge in Boulder City if permission was obtained from the Grand Lodge of Nevada. In addition to the old Post Office being used as a meeting place, these gatherings were held at J. L. Finney's home, and in the lobby of the Government Administration Building."