After 51 years as constable of the village of Chaseburg, Roland (Cactus) Kuester retired his pistol and parked the police car in the village garage. At the age of 81, Kuester believes he’s entitled to retire, but admits he probably wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for a couple health concerns which have taken the giddy-up out of his stride over the past two years.

With a little convincing from the village board and his own family, Kuester called it a career earlier this month after over half a century of patrolling the village of 306 residents on a daily basis. After 51 years on the job, Kuester still isn’t sure of all the street names, but he knows where every Tom, Dick or Harry lives so in his words, “what’s the difference.”

Kuester could have retired 25 years ago, “but why quit a job you like,” he said. He admits he didn’t stay for the pay, although he was earning a wee bit more than the $10 annual salary he earned as constable in 1957 when he started. What kept Kuester as Chaseburg’s long arm of the law for so many years is the same thing he’ll miss most about leaving the position, the people.

“I’ve met so many wonderful people through the years and I’ve watched generations of families grow up, move away and move back,” Kuester said.

Through the years Kuester never let the power of the position go to his head and he never issued many tickets. Instead he found that a good butt chewing had a greater impact on people of all ages. For the first 45-plus years of being constable Kuester supplied his own transportation, car radio and red light, until the village invested in a squad car, a move which according to Kuester created more headaches and backaches than it was worth.

When Kuester was on duty he liked the element of surprise. He lost that element when the village planted him in a squad car with red and blue bubble lights.

“It’s hard to sneak up on someone in a red, white and blue squad car. They see the car and they know they’re busted. It’s just not the same as catching them red-handed,” Kuester said.

Age wise, Kuester has always felt younger than his years until recently when he underwent both knee and hip surgery during the past two years. His recovery has been slow and forced him out of commission for extended periods of time. He uses a cane to assist his balance and has lost some of the desire to continue the job.

“It’s hard to get in and out of the car with a bum knee and hip. It’s no fun when your body starts causing you pain,” Kuester said.

Kuester’s disabilities forced him to forego his goal of becoming the oldest constable in the state of Wisconsin before he retired. With very few active constable positions remaining in the state, Kuester would have had to be on the job until the age of 86, the oldest recorded age of retirement.

A constable is deputized by the county sheriff’s department and is considered the designated peace officer of smaller communities. They are empowered with limited authority and jurisdiction. They are assigned a badge and allowed to carry a pistol.

Kuester was grandfathered into his position as constable and never received formal training to complete the job requirements. Today formal training is required and the school of hard knocks (where Kuester claims to have earned his certification) just won’t cut it.

Through the years Kuester has fired a few bullets and been fired at as well. In 1968, Kuester was commended for apprehending three burglary suspects who illegally entered Chaseburg Farmers Cooperative. As an employee of the cooperative for 30 years Kuester had the inside track on the armed robbers and knew the building layout.

“I knew the building inside and out, they didn’t. I learned after capturing the men that they were wanted statewide on various burglary charges. It was a proud moment and yet it scared the crap out of me at the same time,” Kuester said.

Kuester enjoyed his position, but not always the long hours. With a handful of bars in the community he’s taken many inebriated residents home at closing. According to Kuester his main goal was to make sure everyone got home safe, although he admits the laws were a lot less stringent then, than they are now.

According to Kuester, Chaseburg doesn’t have drunks, just intoxicated people. He claims there’s a difference and that it’s easier to make sure an intoxicated person gets home safely than a drunken skunk.

“It’s a lot less smelly too,” Kuester joked before seriously adding that he preferred the extra miles on his car any day over a trip to the morgue or being summoned to break bad news to families in the middle of the night.

“I’ve had to cover the dead with a sheet and fought to keep others alive until help arrived. I wouldn’t wish those scenarios on anyone,” Kuester said.

For years Kuester said he’d stay on the job as long as God was willing and the creek didn’t rise. But as we all know the creek rose higher than ever in 2007 and as luck would have it Kuester was out of town with family recovering from surgery.

"It rose and I was gone so maybe God is simply telling me to slow down,” Kuester said. Of course most village residents agree that if Cactus drives any slower around town he might just as well park his car and walk.

He’s worked for the county delivering prisoners to other facilities and been the lead entry in the Chaseburg Trail Days parade for the past 38 years. Kuester is looking forward to spending time eating, sleeping and doing absolutely nothing. Most of all he’s looking forward to not catching heck, when a plan doesn’t come together.

To honor Kuester for his years of service to the community of Chaseburg, a recognition party is planned for Saturday, April 26 from 2-6 p.m. at the Chaseburg Village Hall.