• IN ONE RESPECT, this fountain differed from most others; it sported electric lights. This electrified wonder likely had no peer in Utah and existed as one of the few electric fountains found in the western United States.

Later that evening when electricians turned on the red, white and blue lights adorning Provo's illuminated curio, most people agree it was an impressive sight. Everyone agreed William M. "Billy" Wilson was the man chiefly responsible for planning, financing and erecting that imposing embellishment in Provo. The Provo Herald even referred to the newly built structure as "Wilson's Fountain."

According to a short biography written by his son, William M. Wilson was born in Canada. While Billy was still a youngster, he emigrated to Utah with his father. William lived in Salt Lake City for several years before moving to Provo, where he stayed for the rest of his life.

From the time Wilson first arrived in Provo, he found employment in one business enterprise or another. By 1916, he worked as a field representative for Portland Cement Company. Billy served as the secretary for the Provo Commercial Club (Chamber of Commerce) and became one of the foremost promoters of Provo and Utah Lake. In 1907, Wilson wrote and published a promotional book he titled "Pictorial Provo."

In the years prior to World War I, Provo began moving out of the horse-and-buggy age into the era of the automobile. Like people in other cities and towns across America, proud Provo citizens united behind the City Beautiful Movement, hoping to improve the quality of urban life and increase property values at the same time. Provo's city government, supported by local volunteers, conducted clean-up campaigns and improved roads, sewers and garbage disposal.

Citizens eventually united to establish Memorial Park and constructed an island down the middle of Center Street from the State Mental Hospital, at the base of the mountain, down to the edge of the business district. They "parked" this island with grass, flowers and decorative street lights.

Billy Wilson and other members of Provo's Commercial Club promoted their city as a clean, progressive community on the cutting edge of technological advancement. They were proud of the fact that in 1916 the only eight blocks of concrete road in Utah County were all in Provo's business district.

During the summer of 1916, the Provo Commercial Club met in a session to determine what they could do to further the progressive image of their community. The city needed an initial civic project that would hopefully form the nucleus of other projects of a similar nature.

Billy Wilson presented the idea of building a municipal fountain as a symbol of progress. The Provo Herald noted his effort: "Secretary Wm. M. Wilson of the Commercial club publicity committee, is interesting the city commission and others in the erection of an ornamental fountain at the intersection of Center Street and Academy Avenue."

Wilson's plan called for the fountain to be built in the middle of town where it could form the hub of the business district. He suggested making the fountain from concrete to match the new stretches of downtown road that had recently been completed.

The Commercial Club thought the city should provide the money for the fountain. After finding that the municipal government suffered from financial problems, the club decided to raise the money for the project by collecting public donations. The city and the club eventually approved Wilson's plan, and selected him to lead a four-man committee to supervise the project. Others on the committee were Mayor James E. Daniels, James Clove and W.F. Violett.

For several months, Wilson and his committee worked to raise enough money to launch their plan. They also contacted R.T. Woodard, a cement sculptor of national prominence whose creations had received favorable comment at the Panama-Pacific Exposition. After viewing photographs of his work, the committee selected Woodard to supervise the construction of the fountain.

Woodard promised that the finished work would be "emblematic of the industries of Utah County." He said it would serve as a valuable advertising tool for the city. The Provo Post echoed his sentiment: "When completed ... this city will certainly have something of which it may be justly proud."

While Woodard was in town, he also constructed a "petrified wood" arbor and a small fountain on the grounds of the Roberts Hotel. To the chagrin of many preservationists, a wrecking crew recently demolished these concrete works of art and the hotel they embellished.

The Commercial Club hoped the fountain would add to the attractiveness of Provo as a place to live and do business. Its members wanted visitors to be pleasantly surprised that a town the size of Provo possessed such a noticeable spirit of progress. Perhaps the fountain would stimulate other municipal improvements.

The Post officially announced the fountain project on February 9, 1917, and the news generated much excitement. The city declared March 1 to be "Fountain Day." On that date, a committee of "prominent businessmen and society people" sponsored a successful dance in the Ladies Gym located across the street west of BYU's lower campus.

Before work on the fountain began, laborers constructed a small shelter in the middle of the intersection. They hoped the shack would protect the men who were laboring on the project from inclement weather. The cover served a dual purpose. A degree of secrecy stimulated public interest and curiosity.

Work progressed without a major complication until March 5. On that date, a fierce windstorm blew down the temporary shanty covering the fountain site. Luckily, workmen saw the danger of their situation soon enough to run for safety. They were out of the way when the shack came down.

The accident may not have injured any of the craftsmen, but it damaged the fountain slightly. Falling wood knocked off a portion of the middle basin's rim. Under the hands of skilled masons, the imperfection soon disappeared. Carpenters did not reconstruct the shelter, since the components of the fountain stood completed and ready to assemble.

The Commercial Club prepared two time capsules to seal in the fountain. Members purchased two airtight containers and filled them with current newspapers, historical data, a copy of Wilson's book on Utah County and a letter from Wilson to future generations.

Wilson's letter said, in part: "This bottle is placed in this cement stone with its various enclosures in order that you of the future may know that the present generation is not sleeping. ... Provo is evolving from a village to a city. Her people are awakening to the fact that in unity there is strength."

In order to give those future generations a real taste of the spirit of the times, Wilson added a bottle of first-class Scotch to a cavity in the fountain. Then laborers sealed the whole collection in the fountain's base.

In mid-April, the Post announced that workmen had finished assembling the fountain and were adding molded concrete shells and cornucopias to its outside. They also assembled and attached brackets for the electric lights.

Provo's municipal electric fountain made its debut on April 25, 1917. Many people passed in review that day and during the evening. The Provo Herald summed up the consensus of public opinion:

"To get the full effect of this excellent fountain one should see it in the evening when the colored lights are on. Even in the day it is a splendid ornament to our city and does much toward enhancing the beauty of our broad streets and forming a sort of hub in the center of the business district."

The new fountain added a stately air to Provo's main intersection. The structure stood an impressive eighteen and a half feet tall, and its base measured twelve feet in diameter.

The inscription on the fountain's base may have fulfilled a necessary function, but it detracted from the ornament's dignity. In large, readable, bas-relief letters on the four sides of the bottom level of the fountain, stretched the rather unpoetic, mundane phrase, "KEEP-TO-RIGHT." A shell motif separated each phrase.

Above the fountain's water-filled base hovered two basins from which water spilled in sheets of veil-like spray. The middle basin spanned 7.5 feet, and the pedestal on which it stood sported bas-relief cornucopias. The upper receptacle measured 4.5 feet in diameter, and sculptured vines wrapped around the upper pedestal.

The fountain sported a variety of lights. A large, white-globe-covered light surrounded by a lower cluster of four, smaller lights crowned the top of the fountain. Red and blue lights shined from the interior of the two upper basins, illuminating the falling water in patriotic colors.

Most citizens agreed the fountain was well worth the reasonable cost of between $500 and $600. The Herald stated the reason for the modest cost: "Mr. Woodard did the work more to show what can be done in artistic cement work than for pay, as it is understood that he barely made expenses while doing the work, and Provo should tender him their thanks, for the work is first class."

R.T. Woodard and his helpers finished their work on the fountain almost flawlessly. When workmen first turned on the water, however, critics noticed that the north side of the middle bowl rose slightly too high to allow the water to flow over its edge.

The Herald chastised these faultfinders for complaining but doing nothing to alleviate the problem: "For the last month a number of reformers have called attention to the need for this improvement; but none of them have done anything more than talk about it, as is the usual way."

On June 13, J. Milton Jones decided to do more than talk. Under the supervising eyes of Billy Wilson and a crowd of admirers and advisors, Jones used a hammer and a chisel to trim the elevated concrete lip to the proper height, allowing water to descend in a symmetrical circle of spray. Now the people of Provo could truly be proud of their innovative fountain.

For the next decade and a half, Provo's electric fountain served as the backdrop for many of the town's school, civic and patriotic activities. The first civic party over which the fountain officiated transpired during World War I on July 4, 1917. Provo residents and their guests demonstrated their patriotism that year with a flurry of flag waving. The fountain added beauty to the celebration.

Local officials closed Academy Avenue between Center Street and 100 South. Volunteers supervised by BYU professor Elbert Eastmond transformed the street into a large outdoor theater to be used for patriotic programs. The Provo Herald referred to the area as "the Community Street Auditorium."

At the north end of the large, outdoor theater, workmen stretched a cable diagonally across Center Street and Academy Avenue from the tabernacle park to the Knight Block. They used the cable to hang a large American flag over the intersection and suspended it above the fountain. A special spotlight illuminated Old Glory.

Professor Eastmond transformed the fountain into the center of the day's decorations and called his creation "A Tribute to Prosperity." A flock of amateur florists banked the base of the fountain with pine boughs, palm leaves and flowers. The Herald asserted that the finished product "produced the effect of water falling into a forest of green vegetation."

At the south end of the outdoor auditorium, laborers strung another unique flag across Academy Avenue at 100 South. Workmen fabricated this large, electric flag by stringing together cords of red, white and blue lights.

Eastmond and the volunteers created a patriotic stage for a July 4 program that imbued residents of Utah County with a sense of local and national pride. The new fountain played a major role in this celebration, and through the years, other celebrations centered around Provo's symbol of progress.

• Find out what happened to the Provo fountain in next week's History Page.