Curtis Ray Clayton

Curtis was the only child of Kirk Maurice Clayton and Vernice Leon Beard. He was married to Molly Dean Carter, giving birth to Eric and Raedean, married to Kharen Diane Pella, giving birth to Nhickolle, Sarah, and Michael, and married to Cynthia Parks giving birth to CC, Jacob, and Luke. He has eight grandchildren. Curtis' children from all three marriages came to know and befriend one another, which he considered one of his greatest gifts in life.

He spent time growing up on a ranch in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, played high school football, and served in the Korean War doing underwater demolitions as a Navy Seal. He loved to ride bulls in rodeos, and to fly small airplanes. He was a hunter, a trapper, and traded guns, gold, jewelry, horses, boats, land; you name it. Even a barber's chair. He leaned toward Native American beliefs and was an honorary Shoshone Owl Clan member.

Curtis was a businessman of imports/exports and owned a factory that made saddles and leather goods in Nogales, Mexico. He owned cattle and horse ranches and residences in Wyoming, Nevada, Idaho, California, and Arizona. Self-employed his whole life, he greatly valued his freedom. Though being 6’3” and over 200 lbs., he did work once as Bill Harrah's (casino-chain owner) personal bodyguard.

He loved boating and hiking in the backcountry, and built a houseboat with his last wife, Cynthia. They lived in the backwaters of the Colorado River for five years with son CC, and after Curtis delivered second son Jacob (right on the houseboat), they needed a bigger nest. They moved to Camp Verde, near Sedona, Arizona, where he once owned a downtown jewelry shop. They bought property, and Luke was born at home on Clear Creek. They spent 20 years living on the creek.

Going by the nicknames of Chris, El Coyote, Whiskers, River Rat, and some we won’t mention! He loved to tell stories and was remembered by all whom he met. He lived an adventurous and extraordinary life worthy of storytelling. One of Curtis’ favorite memories which he often shared, was of the time he owned the factory in Mexico.

“I had several thousand dollars in my pocket, enough to buy a new Corvette, and was invited to one of my saddle makers' homes for dinner. They were sweeping their dirt floor when I arrived. There was a big piece of well-used meat hung over a bean pot on the stove, and they would lower it into each pot for a few minutes for flavor. Their clothes had mended holes; shovels were worn down, kids running all around. The father was playing a guitar with a missing string. Yet they were happy! That was when I realized it was not what money could buy that I wanted, but genuine happiness.”

Family Members’ Favorite Memories

Daughter Raedean:

Just after Dad died, I bought a pair of red cowboy boots. Why? As a little girl I used to want to dress and look like my dad. He had a pair of red cowboy boots, and I wanted a pair so badly. He had a pair made for me! We had the exact same boots. Another story is when we went camping for a couple of weeks. Where we camped was a horse stable. I fell madly in love with a pony. I named him and visited him every day. At the end of the camping trip Dad said, “Let’s go say goodbye to your pony.” I took his daily apple and cried when I said my goodbyes. Dad was talking to the owner of the stable. When he came over, I was crying uncontrollably. Dad said, “You love this pony?” I of course said I couldn’t live without him! Dad said, “Would you like to take him home?” We did! We took my pony to our home, Cottonwood Ranch in Yerington, Nevada.

Daughter Nhickolle:

My Father was a true adventurer. He lived by his own rules and was a lover of nature and the outdoors—a passion he passed down to me. When I was six, we lived in Arizona, in the middle of nowhere. Much to my mother’s chagrin, my father would rally my sister and I to go on nighttime adventures. Armed with flashlights and Laura Scudder peanut butter jars, we would flip rocks and shake bushes for our next home-grown science project. Usually discovering scorpions, rattle snakes, tarantulas or a lizard, you name it. If it fits in the jar and was preferably dangerous, they would be our quest. Once secured, we’d observe our catch of the night for a day and then let them go the next night. I’m sure this is one of the reasons I don’t fear things others would consider “creepy crawly.” It also engrained a deep respect for animals and the natural world around us.

My father could be on the back of a horse, me riding in front of him, and pointing down at the ground at a tiny flower. He was big and as strong as they came, but he made time to acknowledge the tiny things in life. I’m happy that we shared the years we did together and from that, I know how to catch a rattlesnake if necessary.

Wife Cynthia:

Curtis Ray Clayton above all—trusted life. When we met, with only $30 in his pocket he was planning to travel north to Idaho and trade Indian jewelry along the way at fruit stands for produce to eat and gas money. He asked me along. I liked his confidence and said “Yes.” When money got tight, he knew more was around the corner. He gave thanks to “the little man on my shoulder.”

He slowed down and mellowed out a lot in later years, and though we'd been separated, I visited when in town. "Come with me" he said one Valentine's Day, holding two mysterious big black trash bags. He wouldn't tell me where we were going. Arriving at the local nursing home, I discovered that inside the bags were gently loved teddy bears he’d collected from swap meets, where he loved to sell goods and tell stories. We went from room to room giving the bears to the elderly and sharing many hugs. He ended his life with kindness and compassion in his heart.