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This story, much as it reads as though it came from the pen of Mark Twain, perhaps, or Booth Tarkington, is non-fiction, a chapter from the autobiography of Amanda Durfee Williams Woodward (1890-1973) – she went by Amy, so that’s what we’ll call her from here on out.

When Amy was 18, and with the help (or scheming?) of other townspeople, she hijacked Wellsville, Utah’s Fourth of July.

Amy is the grandmother-in-law of Keepa’ninny LauraN, who shares this story with us in celebration of the holiday.

Goddess of Liberty

That summer (1909) we had a burlesque parade on the Fourth of July. We called it “Burying the City Council.” It all came about this way.

Our City Council appropriated $75 for a July 4 celebration. The baseball team got a bid to go to Brigham City for their 4th of July celebration and a day or so later our orchestra the B and B’s (Browns and Baileys) got a bid from Preston. Now these were real opportunities to make some money so they both wanted to go. Our Mayor Joseph Brown called the City Council together to discuss the situation. Norman G. Allen and Heber C. Parker voted to stay home and have our own celebration. Robert A. Leishman and Thomas T. Darley voted to call our celebration off. The Mayor cast his vote with the last two and the celebration was called off. The townspeople were not too pleased. So the Council hired the Hyrum band to come to Wellsville on the morning of the 4th. They thought that a patriotic meeting in the morning and a dance at night would solve the problem.

Well, we young people were very much perturbed and real piqued. So on Sunday the 3rd and after Sunday School a bunch of us got together to air our beefs, and all at once we came up with the idea of having a burlesque parade and spoil the meeting by parading around the square while it was in session. Definitely our idea was not a meeting. Our idea was a crazy funny parade to go around and around the public square and disturb and break up the patriotic meeting. The more we kicked the idea around the more feasible it became. So we decided to do something.

We solicited the help of all the young people who wanted to help. Some were a bit reluctant for they thought it might be breaking the law. So I was appointed to go to the Bishop’s house and ask him if it would be against the law. He said if we were not rowdy, he could see nothing wrong with the idea. So we were off toward the most exciting and unusual celebration our town ever had.

We decided to rig up a hearse of some sort with a casket on it and I offered to take over the job of getting it made. So I chose some help and the rest of them divided into small groups with the idea of producing one entry each. We decided to go up to Elva’s father’s farm to get it ready. With the unity and the enthusiasm we had that day nothing could fail. I knew Norman G. Allen real well, so I went to his house and told him what we planned to do. He asked me several questions which I answered and then he said, “Well where did I fit in.” I said I wanted you to open the store and sell me some black cloth that I would have to have charged to me. I would see that it got paid for. He scratched his head a bit and said, “Well, now let me see. There was $75 appropriated for the celebration. So you get what you need and I will charge it to the city. And I will see that they pay for it, and if you will sign this slip.” We talked all the time he was getting the stuff I needed. He insisted I take some pins and some tacks and a pint of black carriage paints and a small brush. I sort of feebly protested but he said we didn’t have the time to run around and hunt things. And then he said what are you going to paint on there anyway. I hadn’t given that a thought yet, but I flashed right back to him:

“Our City Council
Gone Over the Great Divide”

He laughed so hard he had to sit down. While we were locking the front door, when we were leaving the store, he turned to me and said stay here until I can get my Model T and we will go over to the city hall, to get some flags and some bunting that belong to the city. When all these things were stacked in the back of the Model T, he said, “I want you to give me your word of honor that you will bring it back to me folded and in order just as it is now, not later than July 5th and I will get it back here and put away just like it was.” I promised.

He then told me to telephone Heber C. Parker and ask for some teams. He said I will try to contact him before you call and tell him I told you to call him. It was very uncanny how everything worked out. We got teams, wagons, and everything we needed including a real Uncle Sam costume in Red, white and blue, a flowing robe for the Goddess of Liberty, and ideas which were popping into our heads just like magic. When dusk came, the parade was all but ready. Early next morning we were back on the job.

We took an old wooden couch and covered it with black and put it on top of the double bedded wagon box. The wagon box was covered with white muslin and painted on each side were the words, “Our City Council Gone Over the Great Divide.” The wheels were draped with bunting. The black casket was festooned with bunting and on the casket reposed a big green wreath made of maple leaves.

We had William Lee’s big chestnut matched team hitched on the wagon. Two girls drove the team, Nora Murray and Ethel Maughan, one was dressed in white and one in black with contrasting sashes, shoes and stockings. Both girls wore stove-pipe black silk hats.

We had Uncle Sam on a horse-drawn mower. The Goddess of Liberty was on a hay rack with a pitch fork for a staff. I was the Goddess of Liberty. My crown was made from a gold colored lard can lid cut like a pie and the points bent upright, the tallest in the center of the front. The sunlight flashed on it real classy. Miss Utah was on a hayrack. All the towns in Cache County were sitting around the edges of a flat rack, with Logan in the center sitting on a beer barrel.

These were all decorated with what was available. We started down from Murray’s farm, southwest of town, in all our glory, and found the Hyrum band and most of the townspeople at the south end of center street waiting for us. We paraded once around the square and were made to go into the meeting which was not even started yet.

The fats and the leans played a game of baseball. We had one real enthusiastic holiday. There were those who could have choked us to death gladly, and those who approved. It was a great day. Enthusiasm is very catching and is hard to dampen. There was enough to last all day. we had fireworks at night and an old time dance. To this day I never did find out about those fireworks. How or where they came from to get here in time. It could be they had been ordered before the celebration was called off and were here all the time. As could be expected two of the councilmen and the Mayor were real upset. I did hear that someone threatened to have us arrested. The real problem was who really started the thing. I was right there all the time and I could not say for sure. Perhaps it was sort of spontaneous and all helped with the spark. I was a target for some of the venom. It could have been because I signed the slip at the store, but all is well that ends well.

For many years, we had a saying, “I’ve never laughed so hard since we buried the City Council.”

I must mention one more fact. In those days a committee was chosen to meet and make plans for the celebration. Well, some three years later I was with just such a committee and we were formulating plans for a Fourth of July celebration. We were getting things pretty well worked out when Mayor Joseph Brown stood up and after a very complimentary speech nominated Amy Williams for Goddess of Liberty. I was flabbergasted and all but speechless. I did manage to pull myself together and rise to my feet and thank them for the nomination and decline and then I turned to the Mayor and said in the sweetest tone I could muster, “I’ve been Goddess of Liberty once, perhaps you don’t remember.” They all had a hearty good laugh and we went on with the meeting.

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