Word: hockaday
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...Roosevelt cortege drove through Oklahoma City, out of the crowd toward the President's car ran a tattered figure. Firemen and National Guardsmen fell upon the man, pummeled him until the Secret Service identified him as harmless Woody Hockaday, 52, Kansas eccentric who two years ago, shouting "Feathers instead of bullets!" burst a bag of feathers in the office of Acting Secretary of War Harry Woodring (TIME, Aug. 17, 1936). This time eccentric Hockaday's idea had been to shine the President's shoes for 10?, raise $1.40 more through 14 other shines, buy a bushel...
Last week Radiopriest Charles E. Coughlin was addressing a state rally of his National Union for Social Justice at Detroit's Fair Grounds. One listener not a member of the National Union was Frank ("Woody") Hockaday, onetime Wichita, Kans. automobile accessories dealer, now chiefly interested in promoting peace by means of sudden dramatic appearances with a bag of feathers. This punchinello of the 1936 political campaign first received public notice and fell into the hands of the police in June when, attired in red shorts and an Indian war bonnet, he strewed his feathers all over Philadelphia...
Last week, resplendent in a costume consisting of a red coat, white pants and a white cap, this amazingly ubiquitous character climbed unnoticed onto the speakers' platform at Detroit. As Radiorator Coughlin was loudly explaining the difference between Communism and Christianity, nimble Woody Hockaday showered him with feathers, deftly sidestepped a punch the priest aimed at him, shouted into the microphone: "You can't mix religion and politics!" While Peaceman Hockaday was being hauled off to a cell, Father Coughlin regained his composure, continued his address, feathers fluttering with every gesture...
...face and bare chest, a long white sack under his arm. Whooping, "Feathers instead of bullets," the visitor dumped 40 pounds of white feathers over Secretary Woodring's desk, scampered out before the Cabinet officer's return. Caught two hours later, still seminude, featherbrained Frank ("Woody") Hockaday, 50, onetime Kansas business man who now considers himself an apostle of peace, was lodged in the Gallinger Municipal Hospital psychopathic ward, where attendants remarked he would remain "for quite some time...