After 73 Years, Curly Howard’s Mystery Has Been Solved… And It’s Bad | HO!!

LOS ANGELES — For generations, Curly Howard has been the face of slapstick comedy, his wild antics and unforgettable catchphrases immortalized in nearly 100 Three Stooges shorts. Behind the scenes, however, the man who made millions laugh was quietly battling personal demons and a devastating illness that ultimately ended his career—and life—far too soon.

Now, more than seven decades after his disappearance from the spotlight, new revelations have finally solved the mystery of Curly’s tragic decline, painting a heartbreaking portrait of fame, pressure, and the frailty of the human body.

Early Life: Resilience Born in Brooklyn

Jerome Lester Horwitz, known to the world as Curly Howard, was born on October 22, 1903, in Brooklyn, New York. The youngest of five boys in a Lithuanian Jewish immigrant family, Curly was shy and soft-spoken, often overshadowed by his more assertive brothers. A childhood accident at age 12—when he shot himself in the ankle—left him with a limp he would later disguise through exaggerated physical comedy. The “Curly shuffle,” a movement millions would find hilarious, originated from pain.

Despite lacking a formal education, Curly was a natural performer. He played basketball, danced with surprising grace, and could mimic animal sounds with uncanny precision. Before comedy, he worked odd jobs—a construction worker, a ballroom floor cleaner, even a singer at parties.

His destiny changed in 1932, when his older brothers Moe and Shemp Howard, already in vaudeville, suggested Jerome join Ted Healy’s act. Initially rejected for not looking “funny enough,” Jerome shaved his thick hair completely off, inventing the iconic Curly persona. He wasn’t just accepted—he became the breakout star.

From the start, Curly’s life was marked by resilience. He turned pain into performance, awkwardness into art, and setbacks into timeless comedy. These traits would define his career, but also foreshadow the struggles that lay ahead.

Meteoric Rise: The Three Stooges Phenomenon

When Jerome Horwitz became Curly, he didn’t just change his look—he lit a comedic spark that would make him a household name. His high-pitched voice, unpredictable movements, and spontaneous sound effects (“nyuk nyuk nyuk!” and “woo woo woo!”) weren’t scripted; they were pure improvisation. Audiences were captivated.

Between 1934 and 1946, The Three Stooges—Moe, Larry, and Curly—released nearly 100 short films for Columbia Pictures. Their fast-paced physical comedy brought belly laughs to moviegoers of all ages. Curly quickly became the fan favorite, a whirlwind of chaos and childlike innocence. Whether fixing pipes in “A Plumbing We Will Go” or crashing high society in “Hoi Polloi,” Curly stole every scene.

But offstage, Curly was quiet, reserved, and deeply insecure. He often doubted his appearance and covered those insecurities with food, alcohol, women, and parties—all of which took a toll on his health. Still, he was known as a sweet soul, generous to a fault, and fiercely loyal to his family. Moe, the eldest brother, often looked after Curly, knowing his health was fragile even in the early years.

Columbia Pictures worked the trio relentlessly, churning out short after short, sometimes filming six or more a year. Curly rarely complained. Despite exhaustion and a body pushed to its limits, he showed up camera-ready, prepared to throw himself into another hilarious misadventure. His improvisational timing and physicality remained razor sharp, earning him a place among the finest slapstick comedians of all time.

Cracks in the Facade: Health and Personal Turmoil

By the early 1940s, Curly Howard was a superstar. But behind the scenes, his life was unraveling. The first signs emerged around 1944: Curly’s voice lost its sharpness, his delivery slowed, and his trademark gibberish faded. At first, exhaustion was blamed, but those closest to him saw deeper issues. Years of hard living were catching up.

Curly’s weight fluctuated dramatically, putting strain on his body. By his later years with the Stooges, he weighed over 300 pounds, suffering from high blood pressure, chronic fatigue, and early signs of stroke—though the term was rarely used or fully understood at the time. These episodes left him disoriented, confused, and visibly weaker.

Columbia Pictures pushed the Three Stooges relentlessly, with little regard for their health. Curly, eager to please and fearful of being replaced, kept working through the pain. In late 1945, he checked into Cottage Hospital in Santa Barbara. Doctors found dangerously high blood pressure, significant weight issues, and cardiovascular strain. He was advised to rest, but the studio refused.

Moe Howard pleaded with Columbia executives to let Curly take a break, but the studio’s head, Harry Cohn, reportedly saw only dollar signs. Curly was the face of the franchise, and the show had to go on.

The Stroke on Set: Mystery Revealed

On May 6, 1946, during the filming of “Half-Wits Holiday,” Curly’s body finally gave out. The storyline was simple, but behind the scenes, something far more serious was unfolding. Curly appeared puffy, distant, and almost lost between takes. His legendary timing was off, and his body, once so elastic, moved with stiffness.

Between takes, Curly sat in the director’s chair to rest. Suddenly, his head drooped forward, one side of his face collapsed, and his right hand slid off the armrest. He was conscious but motionless, eyes open and glassy, lips twitching but no words coming out. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

At first, the crew thought he was pulling a stunt. Moe, sensing something was terribly wrong, rushed over. Paramedics were called. The film’s climax—a pie fight—was reworked on the fly. Curly was lifted onto a stretcher and rushed to the hospital, where doctors confirmed he had suffered a massive stroke, the result of years of unchecked high blood pressure and overexertion. He was just 42 years old.

The studio was silent. No official statement explained his absence from future shorts. Fans were bewildered by his sudden disappearance, and rumors swirled: retirement, alcoholism, firing. The truth, now finally revealed, is far more tragic. Curly wasn’t reckless or irresponsible. He was sick—silently suffering as he tried to keep the laughter alive.

Aftermath: The Quiet Goodbye

Curly’s career ended abruptly. He spent months in recovery, undergoing therapy in hopes of regaining mobility and speech. Though he made some progress, he would never return to his former self. His speech remained slurred, his memory inconsistent, and his once-limber body frail.

In 1947, fans received a brief gift: a silent cameo in “Hold That Lion,” where Curly appeared in a train baggage compartment, bald as ever, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. It was the only time Curly, Moe, Larry, and Shemp appeared together on screen—a quiet tribute and symbolic farewell.

Curly’s health remained unstable, but he yearned to contribute. In early 1948, he attempted another return in “Malice in the Palace,” but his body and mind couldn’t keep up. It was clear, even to him, that his time in front of the camera was over.

Yet Curly accepted his limitations with humility and grace. He married his fourth wife, Valerie Newman, in 1947 and had a daughter, Janie, in 1948. Becoming a father brought him immense joy, and he doted on Janie despite his failing health.

Mostly confined to a wheelchair, Curly built a therapy pool in his backyard and spent hours with his dogs. He was fascinated by television, watching westerns and playing gin rummy with family and friends. Friends and family recalled his overwhelming generosity—even while living with disabilities and financial strain, Curly never hesitated to help those in need.

Final Years: Quiet Strength

By the early 1950s, Curly Howard’s condition had worsened. The once vibrant entertainer was nearly immobile, his speech reduced to whispers, his memory fragmented. In 1948, he suffered another major stroke, leaving him almost completely paralyzed. Valerie cared for him as best she could, but eventually, Curly was transferred to the Motion Picture and Television Country House and Hospital in Woodland Hills, California.

Doctors tried to manage his condition, but the damage was too far gone. Curly’s laugh was now a faint breath. Visitors said he occasionally lit up when old Stooges shorts came on TV, but he could only watch passively. In February 1951, his condition deteriorated further, and he was moved to a private nursing facility. Within weeks, another stroke followed. On January 18, 1952, Curly Howard died from a cerebral hemorrhage at just 48 years old.

His funeral was a modest, quiet affair in accordance with Jewish tradition. He was buried at Home of Peace Memorial Park in East Los Angeles. Hollywood barely noticed; there were no large tributes, no retrospectives, no parades. For those who truly knew Curly, the loss was immeasurable.

The Legacy of Curly Howard

Today, people still quote Curly, imitate his silly sounds, and laugh at his old routines. Few know the depth of the man behind the slapstick—a man who lived through pain, heartbreak, and humiliation, but never stopped giving joy to others. He didn’t just make us laugh; he made us feel something honest, innocent, and pure.

Now that the truth has finally been solved, we’re left with more than just old footage and funny lines. We’re left with the bittersweet story of a man who gave everything—including his health and spirit—to a world that never fully gave back. Curly Howard’s mystery has been solved. And it’s worse than anyone imagined.