His championship of conservation in the fullest sense often brought him into conflict, and in several meetings, national and state, he stirred a storm of controversy.
In 1926 he abruptly resigned as a director of the Izaak Walton League in a stormy meeting in Chicago. At a meeting held in Owosso, he opposed policies of John Baird, then Michigan director of conservation, so heatedly that the state conservationists formed factions to which they held strongly for several years.
With the conclusion of the term of office of Baird, and the election of Governor Fred W. Green, Curwood was appointed to the new conservation commission. Frequently at meetings he protested against what he termed the lethargy of the other members.
Besides his keen interest in conservation, Curwood was deeply interested in civic enterprises in his home city, contributing liberally to such undertakings.
Two daughters are children of Curwood’s first marriage. A son, James Oliver Curwood II, and his second wife, who was Miss Ethel Greenwood, Owosso teacher, also survive.
On that fateful thirteenth day of August, 1927, the news was flashed to the entire world that one of the greatest of all outdoor fiction writers was dead. James Oliver Curwood, beloved teller of tales of the beautiful Canadian Northwest, had passed away. It was an unexpected blow which the entire world mourned and bitterly regretted. For, in losing Jim Curwood, no longer could the great tradition of the mighty northlands be upheld.
Even the Crees, the Chippawayans and the Shiwashes Indian tribes of the far reaches of the north mourned the loss of the “great white father,” who to them was “Jeems.”
The old sourdoughs along the wilderness trails also felt the loss of Jim’s cheerful presence. The old men of the north whom Jim had invited down to his Castle on many occasions from the distant reaches felt the hurt of losing Jim Curwood probably more than anyone else, save that of his own immediate family.
The following epitaph appeared along with James Oliver Curwood’s last article, his last work. It was entitled “Thou Shalt Not Kill,” and was written and completed but a few days before he was stricken. The foreword to this article was written by the editor of American Magazine in the December, 1927, issue, exactly four months after Jim’s passing. Of all the articles he had ever written, this last one, his last and final plea for wild life, affected the public most of all. It was truly his last stand, and a glorious ending it was:
“James Oliver Curwood is dead. One of the most popular fiction writers of his generation, one of the most ardent and courageous lovers of outdoor life, he leaves millions of devoted admirers to mourn him.