Center of the storm in Watertown

She is perhaps the only member of the Watertown Town Council whose outbursts have been regularly posted on YouTube, as entertainment alongside clips from "The Daily Show" and grainy cell phone videos of celebrity sightings. Her relationship with local police is, to say the least, frosty. And she gets along no better with the town manager, town council president, or town attorney.

Long before she was charged with throwing a curling iron at a beauty shop clerk on April 13 , Marilyn Pettito Devaney , a longtime Watertown town councilor and governor's councilor, has been infuriating opponents and alienating allies. And yet Devaney, 69, has been the top vote-getter in every town council race for the last 12 years, easily outpacing her nearest competitor, the council vice president, by about 600 votes in the most recent election. When she does not get what she wants, she has been known to raise her hand, grab her microphone, and yell.

"You made personal attacks against me, Mr. President!" she shouted at a recent meeting. "You're out of order!"

Whether she can survive the latest embarrassment is Topic A in Watertown, from the dispatch office at McCue's Taxi to the lunchtime takeout counter at Joe's Variety, and at Town Hall, where locals have been watching Devaney's antics with grim amusement and stubborn pride for years. Some are demanding her resignation.

"I'm very, very concerned," said John DiMascio , a friend who has known Devaney for 30 years. "A lot of her supporters, and even some of her detractors, are shaking their heads and wondering what's going on with her."

Devaney said in a telephone interview Friday that she hopes to put the whole mess behind her. "I believe from my heart that the truth will come out and the facts will be known and the truth will prevail," she said. "There's no doubt in my mind. . . . I love what I do. I love serving people and just being there for someone who doesn't have a voice and doesn't know where to go."

The Waltham police report charges Devaney with "assault and battery with a dangerous weapon [curling iron]." When a clerk at Sally Beauty Supply wouldn't accept Devaney's check without a driver's license, Devaney grew frustrated. "Don't you know who I am?" Devaney asked, according to the report. Then she pointed at the Governor's Council license plate on her blue 2004 Chrysler PT Cruiser parked outside. After the clerk said no, Devaney allegedly tossed a bag containing a curling iron and other beauty products. She denies it. The case is scheduled to go to court May 16.

While the confrontation made headlines for Devaney far beyond Watertown, she wasn't always such an incendiary figure. As a mother and former first - grade teacher, Devaney won a seat on the town council in 1981, eager to fight for construction of a Boys and Girls Club, which was stirring opposition because it was to be built on town parkland. She has held the seat ever since, and in Watertown she has become a force. Nearly everywhere people go, it seems there she is: comforting grieving families at wakes, shaking hands at the senior center, helping out at St. Patrick Parish.

"Over the years, she has become the go-to person for people who don't have anywhere else to turn," said Mary-Ellen Manning , a friend and fellow governor's councilor. "And they're always just regular people who have some kind of problem. She always tries to help people. Always."

She can also push people away. Watertown councilors have grown so weary of her objecting to even the minutest procedural motion that the council president has suggested hiring a sergeant-at-arms to keep the peace. After arguing with Devaney at one meeting last year, the president, Clyde L. Younger , warned her: "I am not above banging that gavel all evening and for that matter obtaining a larger gavel if necessary!"

Devaney's supporters admire her independence and persistent skepticism about spending. They point out that she has raised questions about the cost of a Ford Explorer that was leased for the town manager, pay increases for town officials, and any budget item hashed out behind closed doors.

"This isn't a government; it's a do-it-yourself," she protested at a recent meeting. "It all takes place down at a pub or behind closed doors, that's where the business is being done."

After running unsuccessfully for state representative in the 1980s and in 1994, Devaney beat eight candidates in her district to win a seat on the Governor's Council in 1999. The little-known eight-member panel approves Treasury payments, pardons, and judicial appointments. There, she and Manning are often the only voices that oppose the governor's judicial picks, citing what they say are a lack of credentials and experience. Devaney has said she loves the job.

Between her two elected positions, Devaney earns $31,025 and does not hold another job. In 2001, Devaney's husband, Jack , a town firefighter, died, and Manning said her friend seemed to struggle. Records indicate that Devaney has had three car accidents since 2002, though none has resulted in serious injuries. Then on Jan. 22 this year, police stopped her in Watertown and cited her for driving with no license and an expired registration. A police report said Devaney tried to get out of the ticket by explaining that she was a governor's councilor. Devaney has also denied that.

While she awaits the May 16 court date, Devaney has been keeping a low profile. "Marilyn is emotionally distraught by this," said her lawyer, Timothy Flaherty . And in Watertown, her friends and foes are wondering whether Devaney, for all her gusto, has finally crossed a line. Pamela Piantedosi , a former council president who often sparred with Devaney, said there has been "a lot of cheering and applauding" among those who believe Devaney is getting her "comeuppance" for "all the pain she's caused others."

"She would be doing the best service for the community, and for herself, if she stepped down," Piantedosi said.

But others say they want Devaney in the fight. "People keep voting her in because they want her to speak up," Manning said. "But it does take a lot out of the individual who is the lone voice in the wilderness."

Michael Levenson can be reached at mlevenson@globe.com.