convinced of Jim Curwood’s future. Her name was Miss Boyce and her
loveliness always made Jim’s heart beat faster. At that time she was a
lovely young woman, not many years his senior and she possessed one of
the most lovable characters that Jim had ever known. She was constantly
urging him onward as only very few others in all of Owosso were doing.
She even went so far as to arrange a schedule whereby she could have Jim
alone and thereby instruct him privately. The private teaching took
place in her own home and Jim was sincerely moved by her earnest
interest in his career.
Throughout James Oliver Curwood’s short though illustrious and glorious
life he often thought of the beautiful and kind Miss Boyce, and more
than once he wrote her into his stories. It was through her that Jim
learned that he might enter the university by taking special entrance
examinations instead of the usual ones that other students would be
required to take. From that moment on there was nothing on earth that
could stop James Oliver Curwood. There was not an obstacle which he
could not overcome in his climb to success. He was young and he realized
fully that only God could keep him from realizing his ambitions.
“I was fully embarked on the project of becoming an author. Nothing but
death could stop me.”
Summer arrived none too soon for Jim, and with its coming Central School
was to see the last of its most ridiculed student. At last he was free.
As soon as classes were out Jim sought out work and quickly found it. He
clerked in a grocery store for several weeks, with the remainder of his
summer being spent in the nearby forests that all but surround Owosso.
He planned, he saved and he studied for those glorious days ahead of
him. Actually he had been able to save the magnificent sum of One
Hundred and Twenty Dollars, which also included the $5.00 received from
the _Gray Goose Magazine_. He had never cashed the check.
At last came the fall of 1898, and Jim Curwood was ready for his trip to
Ann Arbor and the University. There were no crowds at the station to bid
him good bye and good luck. There were just his family, Fred Janette and
his mother, Miss Boyce and a few others. Seemingly the friends of the
family and even his own chums had very little confidence in his ability
to succeed at the great institution of learning. In fact they all
believed that within a very short time Jim Curwood would be back at
home. But Jim’s family and his close friends had confidence in him and
were firmly convinced that he would successfully pass his special
entrance examinations. They were certain, however, that should he fail
he would not return to Owosso for they knew of the confidence James
Oliver Curwood had in himself at that youthful and momentous age of
twenty. To fail would mean disgrace not only to Jim, but to his parents
and friends, and they were sure that he would never come home until he
had made something of himself.
With Jim when the train pulled out of Owosso were his lone suitcase
carrying only absolute necessities, and of course his ever present
typewriter.
It was a long, rough ride to Ann Arbor and throughout it all Jim wished
that he were already there and had all of his connections made. Two
weeks were still to elapse before taking his entrance examinations, but
Jim had carefully planned his trip this way to enable him to have more
time for study and to brush up on the necessary subjects.
It was at a Mrs. Gray’s that Jim decided to have his meals after he had
arrived in Ann Arbor and had made inquiries. The prices were very
reasonable and she served an excellent quality of food. In all there
were fifteen college men who ate at Mrs. Gray’s, and each one took his
turn at serving as cashier, waiter or dishwasher, thus receiving meals
at far less than the usual prices.
Mrs. Gray treated Jim exceptionally well and almost instantly he felt as
if he were at home. The food she served was plain, everyday food, but he
paid little and still had all he wanted to eat. Jim Curwood soon learned
that Mrs. Gray was respected and highly recommended.
It was here that Jim met Walter Parker, who later became the chief of
staff of the Owosso Memorial Hospital, and Jim Greene, who became an
Assistant Attorney General of the State of Michigan. Greene’s official
capacity at Mrs. Gray’s was that of cash master.
After securing a place in which to eat his meals Jim went in search of a
room, after spending the first night at Mrs. Gray’s house. The twenty
year old did not have long to look for a place in which to lodge, for
just a few blocks down the street he came across a room for just one
dollar a week, which suited him well.
The first night in his new location he labored long into the dawning
hours. He studied as he had never studied and crammed before. The
passing of the examinations now meant more than anything had meant to
him in all his life. It meant that in the event that he should pass he
would be well on his way toward a successful literary career.
At last came the fateful morning on which he was to take his
examinations. Jim left his little room on State Street and headed for
the university. He wound his way through the heavily foliaged campus,
past the library and onto the Central Stand itself. Then up long,
winding stairs Jim made his way to the room where Professor Scott was
awaiting his prospective students. At least a dozen other young men and
women were taking the tests with Jim that morning and they were given
two hours to complete them.
[Illustration: _James Oliver Curwood At the Age of Seven_]
[Illustration: _Street Scene, Owosso, Mich., June, 1940_]
[Illustration: _The Shiawassee River (“Sparkling Waters”)_]
[Illustration: _The James Oliver Curwood Castle Taken from Off John
Street, Owosso_]
[Illustration: _The Boat Landing, Curwood Castle. On The Shiawassee
River_]
[Illustration: _Just James Oliver Curwood, more than a Million of
Whose Books are Owned by Enthusiastic Readers_]
[Illustration: _Mr. and Mrs. James Oliver Curwood, in Their Garden
in Owosso, Mich._]
[Illustration: _Curwood, Camping in the Yukon_]
[Illustration: _Curwood, the Writer, in a Corner of His Gun Room_]
[Illustration: _Curwood Before the Cabin which he Built in the British
Columbia Mountains, and in which He Wrote “God’s Country” and "The
Trail to Happiness”_]
[Illustration: _Curwood, The Woodsman, Preparing for a Night in the
Woods with Mrs. Curwood_]
[Illustration: _An Unusual, Striking Picture of Curwood_]
[Illustration: _The Curwood Outfit Going Down the Fraser River_]
[Illustration: _The Cabin on the Au Sable (Old Curwood Cabin)_]
[Illustration: _The Conservation Clubhouse, Six Miles North of Owosso.
Curwood donated several Thousand Dollars for Its Construction and the
Property Surrounding It_]
[Illustration: _The Home of James Oliver Curwood at 508 William St.,
Owosso, Mich._]
[Illustration: _Curwood Grave in Oakhill Cemetery, Owosso, Mich._]
The room was silent and still as pencils moved over the papers. As Jim
pondered over them he began to feel a strange paralysis come over him.
Even at that time he firmly believed with all his heart that none of the
teachers at seemingly far off Owosso and Central School could have
answered a single one of those almost terrifying questions. It was with
a feeling that his scholastic grave was already dug that Jim ploughed
into the series of questions. He tackled them with all the fury of a
wild, untamed lion. But at the same time the long, silent wilderness
trails beckoning toward Alaska and the great North came in a vision to
him. Was this vision to prove to be one of those unexplainable destinies
in his life? He wondered.
Young James Oliver Curwood, just slightly past twenty, sat many long
minutes trying to answer the questions. Evidently Professor Scott must
have noticed the sick look upon his face, for he came over to Jim and
told him he need not hurry. He explained to the young man that he had
plenty of time, that he would accomplish more if he proceeded slowly.
For the entire two hours and up until Professor Scott called the
examination to a halt, Jim sat there writing as fast and accurately as
his arm and brain would permit. He had been a little slow at first, but
as time went on his memory seemed to return and he remembered more. When
the allotted time was up he handed in a sheaf of papers that would lead
one to believe that Jim Curwood had written a full length novel.
A few anxious and worried days went by before the big news came telling
of the results of the examinations. Jim Curwood had passed the difficult
examinations with “flying colors,” while over one-fourth of the others
had failed. He was jubilant and overjoyed at his great success.
Immediately he rushed off to the telegraph office to send back the news
to all of Owosso.
James Oliver Curwood plunged deep into college life. Now, besides being
a part of the university he was also a resident of Ann Arbor. It later
became known that it was not only the studies that interested him but,
strange as it may seem, being a resident of Ann Arbor gave him a
soul-satisfying thrill, a thrill so great and real that for many years
afterward Jim could never quite fully describe it.
The weeks that followed were filled with the usual pranks and escapades
that come to all college students, and Jim was by no means an exception.
Being a freshman was not an altogether happy affair, what with the
periods of “hazing” and “paddling” and peeling of onions that became
parts of his daily existence. But through all this Jim’s sense of humour
never left him and, while he did not particularly enjoy these
“persecutions,” his understanding of them made them easier to bear.
At last came the time for Jim to take notice of his financial standing.
He had paid his tuition fees, purchased his books and all minor colleges
fees had been taken care of. Even his room and board were paid up for
the entire first semester. Still, Jim was running short of cash. So he
set out in search of work. Any job that paid any wages at all was what
Jim Curwood wanted and would take. Luckily there was a university
employment agency on the campus and Jim lost no time in contacting it.
For several days he practically haunted the agency and at last after a
week of waiting he secured employment at a house that needed someone to
tend the furnace and take out ashes after school hours. Though the
compensation was little it helped Jim immensely to carry on his college
work.
It was not long before a similar position presented itself, and this
together with the first one, netted him the then magnificent sum of
$6.00 weekly. Jim’s education, at least for the present, looked a little
more secure.
As the first year at Ann Arbor was rapidly drawing to a close, the final
examinations came up. Jim soon began the ever tiresome task of studying.
The light in his room burned from early dusk until early in the morning.
This was one time when he realized that he must burn the proverbial
“midnight oil.”
After many long, hard hours of intense study, Jim managed to pass the
examinations. His first year at the University of Michigan had been a
success and he was quite proud.
CHAPTER SIX
NEWSPAPER WORK AND EARLY WRITINGS
In September, following the completion of Jim Curwood’s freshman year at
Ann Arbor, Professor Scott convinced him that there was an excellent
opportunity in newspaper work in Ann Arbor.
So once more Jim began to write. He wrote stories he felt people would
love to read—the type of stories that he loved to write. Jim wanted to
write about nature, something which would appeal to the public in a big
way, tales of adventure where the women were clean, pure and brave, and
the men valiant and courageous.
From that time on stories of all types flowed from his pen and his
typewriter. He wrote high grade adventure yarns which were slightly
tinged with an air of romance. Jim even gave detective fiction a try but
found that he was unsuited for it.
His stories were mailed to newspapers all over the middle west. Detroit,
Bay City, Indianapolis, Toledo and many others were on his mailing list.
At first they all came back with the usual rejection slips. Then out of
a clear sky, checks began arriving. He sold a great many of his stories
to Detroit newspapers and to various other city newspapers. His monthly
earnings now began to total as much as seventy dollars and were never
less than thirty dollars.
Jim’s ambition now was burning more fiercely than ever before. His
desire to have millions of people read his stories became an obsession
with him. His stay in Ann Arbor at the University was now assured.
Henceforth Jim Curwood dropped all other college activities, for his
writing and studies were taking all of his spare time.
The little room he occupied on State Street had now been turned into a
regular beehive of activity. The throes of creative composition were
swarming in his adventurous blood and write he must. Papers were strewn
across the floor and completely covered the space all about his desk,
the top of which was covered entirely with manuscripts, correspondence
and tid-bits of notes. Jim was unceasingly racking his brain for new
plots and new angles and different settings.
Detroit began buying more and more of his stories and it was all he
could do to continue the steady output. He was producing stories of the
great Canadian Northwest, stories that were so jammed with
heart-stirring adventure that the newspapers to which he sold them were
selling their papers by extra hundreds daily. James O. Curwood’s stories
had selling appeal. People, as well as the editors, were beginning to
wait impatiently for them. Jim was eternally grateful and thankful, in
fact, more thankful than he had ever been before. He had been writing
for the past twelve years and now at last some degree of success was
coming to him.
It was during this terrific onslaught of writing fury that Jim strayed
farther away from nature than ever before. He missed it terribly and
yearned to get back to it. That urge was constantly burning within him,
the same as was the desire to become a writer. Fortunately enough he was
writing about the great open spaces, the deep, silent forests, and the
many lakes and streams, and this allayed his longing somewhat. As often
as possible, however, he would break away from his room long enough to
take brief walks of an evening. Sometimes these walks would develop into
strolls across the rolling ridges and hills and wanderings into the
beautiful glens and forests that lay nearby. Atop these ridges on the
outskirts of town he could look down upon Ann Arbor as it nestled among
the many silently swaying trees. Even on cold, wintry nights he would
sometimes climb to the tops of these ridges as the world lay asleep and
look down upon the glimmering lights of the campus and town. Here he
could see the lights twinkling and flickering through the light of
steady downfalls of glittering, gleaming snow. Jim Curwood loved the
falling of the snow. He loved it almost as much as he did the ever
glorious arrival of spring.
All through the cold winter Jim worked feverously on his studies and on
his writing. His mind and nerves were constantly on edge, so deep in his
work was he engrossed. Still he turned out stories that eventually found
a market and that was what he was searching for.
With the arrival of spring, Jim was still engaged in his free-lance
newspaper work. But the proceeds of his writings were not yet sufficient
to assure his staying on at the University, so he accepted a position
offered by Professor Adams who had undertaken a huge railroad
statistical job for the government and was in need of a few college men
to assist him. Jim was to draw $75.00 per month, with room furnished.
The job was to last all summer long. As this work was comparatively
easy, consisting only of calculations, Jim enjoyed doing it.
When the fall term opened Jim returned to school with over $200.00 in
his pockets. He now had sufficient funds to provide himself with a
little relaxation and some luxuries. The year of 1900 was to prove one
of the most enjoyable and changing periods in all his life.
Because he was now better off, financially, Jim decided to take larger
quarters, so he rented a two-room apartment on Jefferson Street. Then he
bought a new suit of clothes which materially changed his appearance.
With a pipe and a mandolin, previously acquired, he became a typical
“college man.”
“As a sophomore I devoted only a little attention to the incoming
freshmen. The enthusiasm with which I had entered into under-class
rivalries the preceding autumn had worn itself out, or rather, had been
supplanted by my interest in newspaper work.”
What with his writing, his difficult studies and the planning of his
work, Jim was truly as busy a man as there was on the whole of the
campus. He spent his spare time, as little as there was of it, in
strolls about the campus and the wooded sections on the outskirts of the
city. Here he loved to walk along slowly and take in nature as it
actually was. He loved to watch the birds flit from tree to tree, to see
the chipmunks, the squirrels and the various other creatures of the wild
in the throes of their work and play. They always appeared so
industrious to him. But Jim Curwood did not watch them merely for the
thrill of it all, but because he studied their every move. Here it was
that Jim discovered that he cared for nature almost selfishly. At times
it seemed as if he could not break away from his wanderings in the
forests and along the lakes long enough to accomplish anything else. The
birds, the trees and the rippling waters entranced the young man. The
many squirrels and rabbits that infested the places that man did not go
held constant fascination for him.
Jim watched nature and wildlife with gifted eyes. He would see creatures
of God where no other human eyes could detect them. Jim Curwood was a
staunch believer that everything on the face of the earth was an
important item in the worldly scheme of things.
“If I did not believe a tree had a soul I could not believe in a God. If
someone convinced me that the life in a flower or the heart in a bird
were not as important in the final analysis as those same things in my
own body I could no longer have faith in a hereafter.”
Those words seal the case of Jim Curwood’s love of nature and of all
living things.
* * * *
The sophomore year at the University of Michigan came and went almost as
fast as had his previous year as a freshman, with but one exception. Jim
Curwood had begun to take a keen and glowing interest in the young women
of the campus. Previously he had hardly looked at girls and at times
hardly realized that there were such lovely creatures about him, save
for his childhood sweetheart, “Whistling” Jeanne. Those memories of
Jeanne Fisher, however, were not haunting him now, for the beautiful
women of the University were taking her place. Jim began to notice their
pretty dresses, their hair-do’s, and their feminine pulchritude. It was
the glory of womanhood and all it stood for that made Jim happy. He
began to realize more and more that womanhood was probably the most
wonderful of all things on the earth. He began to glorify them in his
stories as he had the creatures of the wild and all nature about him.
“Then I began to understand that no matter how successful a man may be,
how much money he may amass, or how many honors he may acquire, his life
is woefully incomplete unless a woman fully shares it with him. As the
tired-eyed factor at Fond du Lac once said, while he stood beside the
lonely grace under a huge spruce: ‘No country is God’s Country without a
woman.’”
One afternoon early in the fall of the year, Jim was on one of his
evening strolls down a byway along the very edge of the Huron River as
it made its way out of Ann Arbor. It was during the course of this walk
that Jim Curwood chanced upon one of the most beautiful creatures of
womanhood that he had ever seen. About a mile down this path along the
Huron from whence one turns off to follow the course of the river, Jim
found her. The path was called then, as it still remains, “Schoolgirl
Glen.” Jim had long come to consider this particular spot as his own,
and upon discovering the intruder, beautiful as she was, he resented it
somewhat. He had grown to love the bigness and glory of the solitude
here. From this spot a man’s eyes could roam for countless miles and see
nothing but the beauty and glory of nature.
As Jim came upon the young lady she turned about, smiled, and spoke to
him. Then he smiled, too. Smiled as he had never smiled before. It was
not as a matter of politeness that a smile came to his face then, but
because he felt like smiling at that particular moment.
All about them were massive pines, spruces and willows and many
varieties of shrubs and bushes. Jim later often referred to the spot as
one of the most beautiful that he knew of.
At first he was backward and shy, but when his newly-found companion
began talking about nature and the very things that Jim Curwood loved so
well, almost immediately his backwardness vanished and he found himself
in a veritable “Garden of Eden.” Jim could hardly believe that there
could possibly be two people in the same world who viewed things so
nearly alike.
For many hours they talked of the beauties of nature, of the wilderness
and of their own love of wildlife. They spoke of what they thought
should be done in order to preserve our natural resources. Jim found
himself liking this new youthful companion who loved nature as he did.
This meeting between the two was the beginning of a serious romance,
which resulted in their marriage on January 15, 1900, exactly six months
later.
From that time on Jim found that he had to work much harder than ever
before in order to make ends meet. He drove himself in his story
writing, hardly relaxing or letting up. Story after story and article
after article he would grind out in an effort to make a decent living.
In fact, Jim was all but driving himself to the very limit. When asked
why he was working so hard, he would reply:
“Why not? I have something to work for now!”
About this time the _Gray Goose Magazine_ began accepting Jim’s stories
more regularly. Various other magazines, both slicks and pulps, began
taking an interest in his work. What with all of his newspaper
free-lancing and his magazine work, Jim was finally managing to make
both of the proverbial ends meet.
At last when the school year ended and the glorious summer of 1900
began, Jim and his lovely wife began making new plans. So promptly and
without much deliberation, they headed for the Big Marsh country. The
call of adventure was strong in Jim’s blood once again. He was coming
back to nature and the life he loved so dearly, only this time he was
not alone.
The summer was wonderfully and educationally spent by just the two of
them. They were constantly on the move as they journeyed from one
beauteous spot to another, making sure they missed nothing. They were
taking in all the wonderous sights that were available in the Big Marsh
country. They loved the great open spaces where one could breathe clean,
fresh air and where all the creatures of the wild were at home, playing,
working and making ready for the coming of winter. That particular
summer of 1900 was one of the most enjoyable that James Oliver Curwood
had ever spent.
Once again September rolled around and with it went Jim Curwood to
become a member of the junior class at the University. But Jim did not
complete his junior year, for Pat Baker, a great newspaperman, wired Jim
that he had a job for him and he should come to Detroit at once. So,
with his wife and all their baggage, Jim withdrew from the University of
Michigan and headed for Detroit ... “land of opportunity.” This move was
to change the entire course of James Oliver Curwood’s life.
CHAPTER SEVEN
WITH THE DETROIT NEWS-TRIBUNE
Detroit, the land of opportunity for Jim Curwood. This was the lone
thought that raced through the young writer’s mind as the train sped
toward the great city. In fact, that was the only thing he could think
about. Here he would have the opportunity of writing for some 465,000
individuals every day.