With a squint of an eye, he becomes …

It was a study in contrasts—a dozen Snake River Stampede queen contestants wearing brightly colored broadbrim hats eagerly waited for the attention of a bearded, crotchety old cowboy with dust on his shapeless ten-gallon hat.

At every step he took, the worn-out spurs on his heels jingled. He rubbed his gnarled hand over the gray stubble on his chin, squinted his right eye, and reached for a pen held by one of the young women.

Into the Snake River Stampede program, under his picture, he scrawled "Festus Haggen," and under it neatly—he wrote his real name—Ken Curtis.

Festus Haggen

Ken Curtis

Then he joined the general pandemonium around him. Stampede board directors, television cameramen, radio and newspaper reporters, waitresses and dozens of other people all tried to jam into the restaurant conference room at once.

As he moved around introducing himself, the haggard face so familiar to viewers of CBS-TV's long-running western "Gunsmoke" disappeared. This fellow was cheerfully animated, thoroughly relishing being the center of all the attention.

When the TV cameras were set in place and the klieg lights turned on, he suddenly metamorphosed into Festus: "If yore expectin' any pearls o'wisdom to drop from mah mouth, yore barkin' up the wrong tree," he rasped.

Then—as Ken Curtis—he talked of his professional debut. "I joined Tommy Dorsey at the Paramount Theater in New York as a singer," he said. "I replaced Frank Sinatra. Of course, western is my native music. I was with the Sons of the Pioneers here at the Stampede in 1951. That makes this my fifth appearance here."He appeared with Milburn Stone, who played Doc on "Gunsmoke," in 1966, 1968 and 1970.

This is the first solo appearance for Ken/Festus and he has brought his band, the Dodge City Four, to back him up. "People at the Stampede will see me shell a whole lot of corn," he said, laughing. "I'll do some singing, with the Dodge City Four, and entertain folks in general." He said the folks would see some of Festus and some of himself in his act.

Curtis, who has made a profession of touring the country as Festus, first played his alter-ego in an episode of "Gunsmoke" filmed in 1962. The single appearance proved so popular that the character was made a regular in the western in 1963.

He played the part for 12 years, until the series' demise in 1975, but kept touring during vacations and slack time. "I really miss 'Gunsmoke,' " he said. "It was like losing my whole family.

"I'm reading a lot of scripts these days," he said when asked what his plans have been since the series ended production. "If everything works out, I'll start next month on a four-hour western special for NBC. I say 'if it works out" because with all these deals and commitments it gets complicated. I have commitments to play Festus at all these fairs, so the problem is shaving for parts."

Before taking the role in "Gunsmoke," Curtis starred for several years in a syndicated adventure series called "Ripcord," in which he played a parachute jumper. "We did some jumping at the start of the show," he said in an aside after the press conference ended. "We went out without telling anyone—and the studio like to killed us.

"They were threatened with cancellation of their production insurance. I would have gone into it as a sport but in this business (acting) it's too risky. You break a leg and 150 other people are out of work while production is shut down. It's not like you were an accountant and could still work with your leg in a cast.

"The scenes in the show were filmed with a crew of really excellent stunt jumpers, but we had the feel of the parachutes, so we could be more realistic in the roles. And it helped us off-screen, too. You know, kids can ask some of the hardest questions when you're signing autographs. They can pin you down," he said.

He has a reputation as a gentle man, who can make a fan comfortable and happy. His wife, Torrie, a lifelong radeo fan and former rodeo secretary, was asked if Festus often came home instead of Ken. "The only difference between them is Ken's clean and well educated. He's kind and gentle, and he loves children," she said. The couple have two children, Bill and Danelle, both grown up.

"Actually, the two are one and the same," Torrie said. "When Ken would study the scripts for the next day's shooting, I could tell when he read his lines—because he'd squint that eye. He didn't even know he was doing it."

Curtis shares the fondness for the cocky little character he played. "I wouldn't care if they tatoo 'Festus' all over," he said, waving his hand across his forehead. "He's been good to me.

"I think I singlehandedly support Goodwill," he said, when someone mentioned his grizzled costume. "They bought me five or six of these vests all brand new. They laid 'em out on a board and went after 'em with sandpaper. That's the shape I get 'em. I keep thinking, not too long, I'm going to have these boots bronzed," Curtis said, swinging the aged leather footgear up onto the table. "They've seen a lot of rodeos.

"I think people are getting interested in rodeos as a sport. I feel like people are trying to reach back—this is our heritage. People are discovering these fellows are real athletes and the things they do are real. They used to do all those things with ropes and horses out West.

"I've thought about doing other dramatic roles besides westerns but I grew up in the West and I know the West. Many of my parents' friends grew up in that era—the 1870s, like 'Gunsmoke' and I heard a lot of stories. I grew up 100 miles from Dodge City, across the Colorado line from Kansas.

The man who made TV westerns his middle name—he even rode to the press conference in the Stampede's horse-drawn stage coach—laments today's TV programming. "I'm pretty discouraged and disgusted," Curtis said. "So few really family shows are left, where fathers and mothers and children can all sit down and watch together without being warned about the contents.

"I'm really proud of 'Gunsmoke.' We put on a good show every week—one that families could all watch together without offending anyone. I hope they do get back to some sanity on TV."

Published by The Idaho Press-Tribune, Pioneer League Newspapers, Boise-Nampa-Caldwell, ID, 83652