Sadly, the Fall, 2008, issue of the UU World, announced the passing of Rev. Ric Masten, a true original, after a long and courageous battle with prostate cancer. You can find a chronicling of his battle with this terrible disease on the web simply by goggling his name. Ric was known as the “troubadour minister,” because he performed for years with music and poetry before many UU congregations across this country. Although he attended several colleges, he never received a degree as he struggled with dyslexia and a troublesome hearing impairment. He probably was the only fellowshipped UU minister who never graduated from college or a seminary, being ordained in 1971 at the UU church in Arlington, Virginia.
Ric had a long history with May Memorial, having appeared here several times in the 70s and 80s, usually with a 12 string guitar in tow, his wonderfully animated voice, and a large repertoire of poetry and song. His first appearance here may have been in 1971, at least that is the first mention of him in the archives. To see a photo of that visit, go to http://history.mmuus.org/ricmasten.pdf. To see a more recent photo during the period of his struggle with cancer go to http://history.mmuus.org/RicMasten2.jpg
I was fortunate to see him in the early 80s in what may have been his last visit to May Memorial. I remember being enthralled and he certainly seemed to captivate all of us in attendance. He talked openly about the problems he had faced in life, including the marital struggles he was undergoing. If memory serves me correctly, his wife, Billie Barbara Masten, poet, author, and actress, performed with him that evening. I seem to remember them talking together about the struggles of staying married with his and their hectic travel schedules when she went with him. They even split at one point, remarried, and then maintained a ritual of reaffirming their marriage with stated vows each year, an activity that Billie insisted upon until the end.
A winner of many honors, in his last award ceremony this past January he told the crowd in attendance, “All you have to do is catch a fatal disease and the awards just fall out of the trees like apples.” His ashes were spread on a steep dirt road leading to his California home as per his wishes so he could “leave behind a little winter traction for his neighbors.” His passing is very sad, but he left behind a legacy of quirky (he was even a quick-draw artist with a pistol) but beloved troubadouring.
Rog Hiemstra, Chair, History Committee
Written September 7, 2008
