Bill Cavitt

CAVITT, WILEY, SHEETS

Posted By: Connie Street (email)
Date: 11/4/2001 at 07:53:49

Wild Bill Cavitt
Van Buren County’s Greatest Storyteller

An essay by Connie Street

Many people referred to Bill Cavitt, the tall lanky man with the pungent cigar in his mouth, the ever-present cowlick and the drooping mustache, as "Wild Bill."
There is no agreement on the reason for this nickname. Some who knew him said it was because of his distinctive appearance; others say he earned the name because he told such "wild" stories. Bill frequently rode his buckboard to town, delivering fresh cream to the general store. It was here that a large group of men gathered in the afternoons to sit, spit, whittle and swap lies. Bill was expected to do the lying.

Bill Cavitt had a keen understanding of man's gullibility. Some of his stories bordered on the absurd, many times leaving his audience shaking their heads in amazement long after the laughter had died down.
The youngest of six children, Bill was born July 15, 1848, in Des Moines Township, Van Buren County, Iowa. Not far from his birthplace, one cold and windy January day, Bill's mother, Judicia, joined the Christian Church. The Fox River was frozen over, requiring the minister to chop a hole in the ice so he could complete the ritual of baptism for his converts.
After Judicia had been immersed in the chilly water, she was wrapped in blankets and hurried to the edge of a roaring bonfire along the riverbank. Somebody asked her if she was cold and her reply was "No." Hearing her response, Bill drawled "Dunk her again, Parson, she ain't quit lyin' yet."
From this time on, Bill Cavitt's reputation grew. His quips, comments and stories became legend.
About 1865, the pioneer spirit gripped the Cavitt clan and they headed west in search of California gold, traveling by wagon train. Years later after returning to Van Buren County, Bill enlightened the townspeople about his walk all the way to the West Coast. Many people scoffed at his story; in fact, countless early pioneers did walk to California, their wagons not being large enough for the entire family to ride in; that privilege being reserved for the oldest women and young children.
Bill found work in California and saved his wages for his return to Iowa. He often told that he had been one of the passengers on the first transcontinental train. He said he was present at Promontory Point, Utah, when the famous golden spike was driven. No records exist to prove whether Bill was present at this historic event. However, his experiences during his journeys gave Bill Cavitt fodder for many stories.
One day Bill boasted of his own heroism while telling about a cattle drive he had allegedly participated in. He said all the cowboys had long hair and traveled light. They slept in their clothes, simply rolling up in a blanket for the night. One night the drovers got caught in a storm that began with rain, changed to snow, and then became ice. This particular night was so cold that, the next morning, every one of those cowboys awoke to find their long locks frozen so tight to the ground, nobody could get up. Having his long knife in his belt, Bill cut himself loose, then went around giving everyone else a haircut to free them. He maintained that if he hadn't done this, they would all have lain there until the spring thaw!
After his return to Iowa, Bill married Mary Jane "Jenny" Wiley. They stayed in Iowa for the remainder of their lives. There has been much speculation as to the reasons for that decision since most of his family had settled in California. Some believed that Jenny wouldn't budge; others said, "If Bill Cavitt had wanted to move to California, he would have moved to Califor-nia."
It is assumed that Bill and Jenny eloped. Most weddings were performed in the home of the bride, but the young couple was married across the state line at the home of Bill’s oldest brother in Clark County, Missouri. Those who remember the Wileys are certain that no man would have been good enough for their daughter, especially this irreverent, boisterous, jocular man.
Some people called Bill Cavitt a braggart. He owned one of the finest herds of Jersey dairy cattle in Iowa and loved to boast about it. He often said, "Grass is king and the dairy cow is queen." One of the few times Bill was ever bested was when he saw his neighbor, Frank Sheets, dressed up for a funeral. Bill asked Frank where he got the fancy clothes. Sheets responded that if Bill owned black cows instead of Jerseys, he could afford to dress up, too. Frank often gloated about that moment being the only time he ever saw Bill Cavitt speechless.
Bill was nearly caught stretching the truth by a couple of city slickers. Having never met a stranger, he had described his fabulous dairy barn to them while on a business trip on the train. Bill claimed his barn was the ultimate in advanced technology, filled with every laborsaving device imaginable. He described things that hadn't been invent-ed – then or today. Bill assured the captivated listeners that having this modern equipment resulted in minimal physical labor for him and sweeter cream produced by his cows.
Bill left the train at Mount Sterling, leaving his audience to continue their trip. When he went home to do chores in his ordinary dairy barn he gave his extraordinary fictitious inventions no further thought. Weeks later on their return trip, the businessmen remembered Bill Cavitt’s stories. They decided they would like to see his incredible barn and its machinery. They got off the train at Mount Sterling, rented a horse and buggy, and drove out to Bill's farm. When they spotted Bill, they told him they had come to see his incredible barn. Their hopes were dashed when, without a blink, Bill's immediate response was, "You're too late. That barn burned to the ground last week."
Bill was a good farmer and not afraid to try new varieties of crops. One year, he claimed to have a huge potato harvest and offered to sell some of his spuds to his neighbors. One potential customer offered to buy one bushel. Bill stubbornly refused to sell, saying he would not cut a potato in half for anyone!
Bill's grandchildren had heard these tales all their lives, but knew there was much more to Bill Cavitt than his jokes. In the eyes of his grandchildren, he was a kind and softhearted man, who always carried pieces of licorice for anyone with a sweet tooth.
As the years passed and Bill grew older, he became too weak to take care of his farm. One of his grandsons helped with the farm work since Bill’s own sons had moved to California many years earlier. Bill often entertained the young man with his stories after the chores were done and Jenny was cleaning up the kitchen after supper.
Bill lived a long life and was loved by all who had ever heard of him. One of the special remembrances about Bill Cavitt was that he never spoke ill of anyone.
His most famous story was told one day when he was hurrying past a county road gang and one of the men yelled to him, "Hey, Bill, stop and tell us a lie." Without hesitating, Bill yelled back, "I don't have time. My neighbor just died and I'm on my way to get the undertaker." As his team of horses galloped down the road raising a sheet of dust behind Bill's spring-wagon, the men decided to visit the home of the newly bereaved family to offer their condolences.
Imagine their surprise when the man they thought was dead opened the door to greet them and they realized they had been told the lie they had asked for!

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