Delecta Masten

Rochester Democrat and Chronicle, 1 April 1916

MOTHER AND SON TOGETHER AFTER FORTY-YEARS--For Twenty-five Years Each Had Supposed Other to Be Dead--Hurried Journey Across Continent Made by Son.

A story that has so sharp a dramatic twist that it would be regarded as exaggerating all laws of probability if it appeared in form of fiction came to light yesterday when it was learned that a photograph in the Democrat and Chronicle had united a mother and her son after a separation of half a century.

Addison G. Masten, a well-to-do California rancher, returned to his home near Los Angeles a week ago last Saturday night and was met at the door by his wife, who held in her hand a copy of the Democrat and Chronicle dated March 8th. Turning the pages, Mr. Masten came to a place that was marked. He stared in silence for a moment at the picture of a sweet-faced, white-haired woman. "Mabel," he said to his wife, "that is my dear mother!" Hastily searching for the wrapper of the newspaper, Mr. Masten found on it the name and address, "Mrs. Isabella Smalley, No. 974 Main Street east, Rochester, N.Y." He hurriedly wrote to Mrs. Smalley to go at once to the home of Mrs. Delecta Clark Masten, the name that appeared below the newspaper picture, and tell her that her son, whom for many years she had thought dead, was coming to see her.

Meeting of Mother and Son: A week ago today, at the supper hour, Mrs. Masten, who is in her hundredth year, rose from her pillow with a cry of pleasure and clasped the prodigal, who has reached his three score and ten years, in her arms. It was forty-eight years ago on March 21st that 21-year-old Addison Masten left the home of Selah and Delecta Masten in Livonia, and went West to seek his fortune. "Four weeks ago," said Mrs. Masten to her son, "I lay here sick and dying. The good Lord has seen fit to let me live to see my dear boy again. Now I am content to go." The delight of Mrs. Masten and her son, each of whom for twenty-five years thought the other dead, was pathetic to see. It was through failure of letters written by Mr. Masten to reach his mother that the unusual circumstances occurred. Up to a quarter of a century ago he wrote regularly, and his letters always were answered. Then the father and mother moved to Dansville. In some way their letter telling of the change of home miscarried and Addison Masten's later communications, sent to Livonia, never reached his parents. He changed his address at about the same time, and it is probable that Mr. and Mrs. Masten wrote letters that shared the same fate as his. The aged woman who reached her ninety-ninth birthday on March 7th, has been living at No. 447 Main Street east, the home of her daughter, Mrs. Helen M. Goff. The greeting between brother and sister, although Mrs. Goff was too young at the time of his departure to remember him, was touching, as they have been a common interest in the feeble mother. "We ascribde the uniting of the Masten family to the Democrat and Chronicle and to Mrs. Smally," Mr. Masten said yesterday.

Went First to Missouri: When he left Livonia, Addison Masten went to LaPlata, Mo., the home of a brother, who is now dead. After a stay of four years he went to Kansas, where he remained seven years, and then to Los Angeles. For fourteen years he was in the livery business. The advent of the automobile made this unprofitable, and he turned his attention to fruit and produce. Now he has a good-sized ranch, which he has named Little Nest, on which are growing lemon, orange and fig trees. It was in Los Angeles that Mr. Masten met Mrs. Smalley. In a corner of the block where his livery establishment was located was her husband's grocery. As an acquaintance developed it was found that Mr. Smalley and Mr. Masten had been boyhood friends in Lima. Mrs. Smalley came East some time ago and when the article telling of the 99th birthday of Mrs. Masten appeared with a picture, she sent it on to California to see if Delecta Masten was a relative of Addison.

Father Dead Twenty-five Years: Selah Masten, Addison Masten's father, died in Livonia twenty-five years ago. Addison married in Sterling, Kan., and his wife died seventeen years ago. Eight years ago he married again, in Los Angeles. "I feel that if I could stay all summer perhaps I could keep my dear mother alive," he said yesterday, "but it will be time for the harvest in three weeks, and I have my wife to care for. I must leave by the 1st of May, anyway." Mr. Masten moved rapidly after he learned that his mother was alive. The newspaper was received two weeks ago Saturday, and he reached his mother a week ago today.

Rochester Democrat & Chronicle, 8 March 1916

ILL FOR FIRST TIME AT 99 - Mrs. Delecta Masten Born on March 7th in Year 1817--Although confined to her bed, Mrs. Delecta Masten, of No. 447 East Main street, was in extremely good humor yesterday, for it was her ninety-ninth birthday. Mrs. Masten says being ill is a new experience to her, this being her first real illness in her long life.

Mrs. Masten was born in South Livonia, Livingston county, on March 7, 1817. She attended the village school and when 18 years of age went with mother to Geneseo, where she lived until 1839, in which year she was married. Upon her marriage she returned to Livonia, and lived there until 1902, when she and her husband took up their residence in Dansville. It was from Dansville, in 1908, that Mrs. Masten came to Rochester. Up to the time when she was taken ill, four weeks ago, Mrs. Masten not only was active, but had the use of all her faculties and retained her interest in current affairs. She has her views on who should be elected to the presidency of the United States. She is firm in her belief that Charles E. Hughes is the one man fitted to be president.

Rochester Democrat & Chronicle, 10 March 1915

Woman of 98 Goes Motoring, but Doesn't Approve of Movies or Other Public Exhibitions: Mrs. Delecta Masten on Monday evening celebrated another anniversay of her birth in a log cabin in the wilds of Livingston county on March 8, 1817. Just two years short of one hundred that makes the little old lady; and yesterday, as she sat in her daughter's home at No. 447 Main Street East she agreed that life had been interesting as well as long. She mentioned changes that have come within her lifetime and her eyes beamed through her spectacles. "Yes, indeed," she said, "I've seen changes. I've been through a lot; all the way from tallow candles to electricity." And all the way from stage coach to automobile, and all the way from the time when, as she expressed it, "there wasn't a frame house betwixt Conesus Center and Lakeville." As for the steam railroad, that, of course, has become an old story. "But I recollect the time," Mrs. Masten vouchsafed, "when the steam engine used to scare me quite a little." Surrounded by her daughter, Mrs. H. M. Goff, and a cousin and old friend, G.C. Bryant, Mrs Masten recalled days of seventy-five, eighty, or ninety years ago.

Mrs. Masten was born in South Livonia, the daughter of Gardner Clark. For a few years, when she was quite young, she lived in Geneseo; but most of her long life as been spent in the place of her birth. She has lived in Rochester eight years, and likes it. She has a busy street to look out upon, an occasional automobile ride, and always crazy quilts to manufacture. These pleasures seem to compensate for the loss of the more familiar ways of her older home. She sews constantly. Knowing her fondness for the occupation, neighbors and friends keep her thoroughly supplied with materials for patchwork quilts, the chief product of her needle.

She reads the newspapers every day, mostly the headlines, because her eyes are not quite strong enough for the fine print. But she reads enough to keep abreast of the news. There is one feature of modern life of which Mrs. Masten does not approve. It is the movies. She thinks they're rather silly. "Going to exhibitions is just a habit," she explains. "The more you go the more you want to go. If you don't go at all, you're not bothered all the time with wanting to go." Mr. Bryant claimed that at the birthday party Monday evening Mrs. Masten danced with the rest of the guests. But the little old lady smiled and refused to take credit for so much sprightliness. "They called it dancing, she explained, "but I guess it wasn't that exactly."

Sources

• Newspaper Article Dated 1 April 1916