Sick boy who was Calgarian of the Year dies at age 34
In 1986, young liver recipient’s story warmed the hearts of Canadians from coast to coast
As a child, he had the support of a community, city and country. As an adult, Curtis Nadeau just wanted to give back.
The 34- year- old died July 7, nearly 30 years after his story warmed the hearts of Canadians from coast to coast.
From birth, Nadeau had biliary atresia, a condition that stunted his growth, and by five years old was in desperate need of a liver transplant. Stuck on a waiting list for two years without any success, Nadeau and his family flew to London, Ont., in 1986 after a liver became available. The donor was a Windsor boy who was killed while crossing a highway.
The transplant followed an outpouring of support thanks to a public awareness campaign launched by Southwood Elementary School, where Nadeau went to kindergarten.
“It weighed on our heart,” said Nestor Yaremko, then principal of the school.
To raise awareness, the school’s 400 students held an outdoor rally, releasing hundreds of balloons while standing in a formation that spelled out the word “hope” from above.
Yaremko said the story taught students “to care.
“They fell in love with the little boy,” he said. So did many others. Nadeau’s story dominated headlines from September 1986 to February 1987 as the public kept up with his surgery and recovery. Public figures including then- mayor Ralph Klein sent their well- wishes. Nadeau was even named Calgarian of the Year at age six.
As hard as it was, Curtis overcame his illness with a smile on his face, said his father Robert Nadeau.
“It was just the type of person he was. I think he had the confidence he could get through anything,” Robert said.
“He just had a will. It’s hard to explain,” echoed his mother Kim.
Curtis returned to Calgary in December 1986 and life returned to normal soon after. He grew up loving cars, sports, music and dancing, and later, deejaying.
“He’d put on little shows,” Robert recalled. Curtis’s favourite dance routine was performed to the hit song Ice Ice Baby by Vanilla Ice.
Curtis was resourceful, said his mother. Able and willing to create musical CDs or fix phones and televisions, it was clear that one of his passions was helping others.
Throughout his life, the Calgary Flames were Curtis’ heroes. The team sent him a jersey while he was in the hospital in London and he was later a guest of honour at a game. He grew up idolizing Theo Fleury and even served as the Herald’s junior reporter at games.
“Anything with Flames on it, he would buy it,” Kim said. “He loved them to the end.”
But despite his joy in life, Curtis’s medical condition always remained a background concern. Complications arose with the antirejection drugs he was taking for his body to accept his liver transplant. The drugs damaged Curtis’ kidneys and landed him on dialysis for the past eight years, leading to an infection.
Throughout his 20s, Curtis worked off and on as a security guard in Red Deer and Calgary in between hospital visits. He dreamed of working as a police officer or starting his own security company.
“I felt that was his purpose,” Kim said. “He just liked making sure that people were safe.”
Curtis’s condition limited his activity later on in life, but he didn’t let it stop him. He lived his last six years at Carewest Dr. Vernon Fanning long- term care centre, waking up residents at night with a joyful scream after big Flames goals, and patrolling the area during the day as “a volunteer safety checker.”
Eight months ago, Curtis underwent open heart surgery for a faulty valve in his heart. His body went into septic shock after that same valve later suffered a bacterial infection that spread throughout his body and led to bleeding on his brain.
There was no hope. Curtis was taken off life support.
“Whether he chose it or not, he had an effect on a lot of people’s lives in a very positive way,” said Yaremko, now retired after 38 years as a principal. “You never know what the outcome is going to be when you start ( a campaign) like that. The public awareness may well have done something to help this boy. My personal guess is that, silently, a lot of other kids and other people were helped at that time.”
Kim said Curtis taught her about bravery and compassion.
“Even though he wasn’t well himself, he helped others. He was treated pretty special and maybe he was trying to pay it back. He wanted to help others like he had been helped when he was younger,” Kim said.
“He lived 29 more years and I’m forever grateful for that.”