Nickolas "Nick" Curtis

Continuing a long memory entry:

Officer Curtis told us why the rocket tube would not be a good idea. It would have been a bomb of sorts, which we had already kinda figured out.

Then he asked us where we had gotten the stuff: Stan told him and I realize now that the smart policeman was probably making a mental note to visit the merchant and caution him.

And we stood there for a while, talking, man to man, human to human. Nick

Continuing a long memory entry:

Officer Curtis told us why the rocket tube would not be a good idea. It would have been a bomb of sorts, which we had already kinda figured out.

Then he asked us where we had gotten the stuff: Stan told him and I realize now that the smart policeman was probably making a mental note to visit the merchant and caution him.

And we stood there for a while, talking, man to man, human to human. Nick Curtis was taking our measure, I am sure, and thank God we had already decided to be straight with him because he ended up being straight with us.

"Don't do it again," he suggested, after confiscating the remainder of the gunpowder.
No call to parents, even though Stan's were right inside the house, and no recriminations.

I never became a cop, but I have always remembered that encounter with a genuine officer of the law who had a human touch. Looking back, I realize now that Nick could have a hard look about him. I saw it at other times, when there was real trouble. But he handled us quickly, firmly and decently.

Stan passed away at the age of 26, after we had parted ways. I keenly missed him when I heard of his death.

I spent my life as a reporter and writer. I encountered many policemen of all kinds. But I don't think I ever met one who I admired more. Evan Maxwell, WHS class of '61.

I left Willmar in 1960, at the age of 16, but I have many fond memories of growing up there. One came to mind just the other day, perhaps December 30, the day Nick Curtis left the world after 89 years of serving his community.

I must have been about 14. It was spring, March, toward twilight. I was messing around, as teens are wont to do, in the front yard of a friend, Stan Lucas.

Stan was a brilliant light in

I left Willmar in 1960, at the age of 16, but I have many fond memories of growing up there. One came to mind just the other day, perhaps December 30, the day Nick Curtis left the world after 89 years of serving his community.

I must have been about 14. It was spring, March, toward twilight. I was messing around, as teens are wont to do, in the front yard of a friend, Stan Lucas.

Stan was a brilliant light in his own life. Great student, athlete, proud son of Al and Velma Lucas. Al was athletic director at WHS and a tough disciplinarian, but that didn't prevent Stan from being a bit of a wild card.

Stan and I had become fascinated by rocket propulsion because of Sputnik and the U.S. space program. And we had decided to experiment with propellant. That's why we found ourselves in possession of a few ounces of heavy-grained gray gunpowder that some local merchant had sold to us because we seemed like such nice young guys.

And there, in the chilly evening, we decided we needed to set off a bit of this stuff to see what we had on our hands.

Gunpowder ignited on a sidewalk does not explode. But it does burn furiously and issue a huge, billowing cloud of smoke. That smoke drifted lazily for half a block, passing beneath a street light at the moment Patrolman Nick Curtis drove through.

Oh, crap! What do we do.

Like the basically decent kids we were, we stood still. Patrolman Curtis, widely known to kids in town, backed his patrol car up, turned down the street and came to the curb in front of us. He got out calmly, came around and said something like, "Hey guys, you want to tell me what's going on."

No fuss, no muss, no bother. Just calm everyday police work.

So we told him, simply and directly, what was going on. We had touched off gunpowder to see how it burned before we tried to stuff it into a rocket tube.

I think we had already figured out that the stuff wasn't rocket fuel but Officer Curtis explained to us why the tube wasn't a good

Thanks for keeping us safe.

When I think of your Dad I remember him in his police officer uniform and how proud he was of his profession. I also remember how much my parents thought of your Dad. My Mother, who was the emergency and operating room supervisor at Rice Hospital would often mention how Pete Curtis would bring in the victims of horrific auto accidents. Your Dad is being welcomed by all those he helped here on earth.

Thank you Nick for over 60 years of frindship. I have many fond memories of Nick, and will never forget him. He was so sad after losing his wife and now rhey are together again.

My family purchased the home I grew up in from the Curtis family in 1969 when I was 5 years old. (12th Street SW). My condolences to the family.

Nick was my Sergeant for the 10 years I was with Willmar, 1969-78. Many stories, much fun, some tears, all good.
RIP Sarge.

My thoughts and prayers are with the family. He was a geat Police officer and wonderful man. vickie