Two rough hewed cabins set back in the wilderness of brush that fringed a muddy creek, stick in the memory of Mrs. Amanda Veale, 2932 Meadowbrook Drive, who with twin brother, was born 85 years ago in Rusk County. This was their first home.
W. R. Ables, together with his sister, Mrs. Veale, watched the state evolve from its wilderness period. Ables lives in Dublin, but both take delight in visiting each other and talking over the pioneer days.
They believe themselves to be the oldest pair of living twins in the State. And from the present state of health, they expect to add many more years on what each jokingly terms, “borrowed time”. In their span of 85 years they have seen hardships, wars, pleasures, and the world readjust itself a half dozen times. But each gets the same enjoyment out of just living and comparing.
Mrs. Veale declares the one big regret is that she did not reserve on paper the impression of that pioneer age when Texas was being exploited by the early settlers. “Just think about putting in writing the conversations we had about the airplane or the railway when both were being looked upon as mad men’s fancies.”
Harrison Ables, father of the twins, came to Texas in 1836. He joined forces that fought for Texas’ Independence, fighting under Sam Houston and being a member of that detachment that captured Santa Anna. With a free State, Ables envisioned the future empire and established the Texas home in Hill county, on Jacks Branch, four miles from the present town of Hillsboro stands.
Ables died in 1860, just previous to the outbreak of the Civil War. But he had heard the rumblings of war clouds and warned his children of what was to come before he died.
Miles from any settlement, Mrs. Veale admitted that the howl of the wolf mingled with the savage war cry was often dreaded terror in their little clearing. “But as a general rule, the Indians were pretty friendly. They stole horses and cattle. But the Indians came from Oklahoma and struck mostly on the run.”
Farm diversification was a necessity in those days and not a matter of dollars and cents, Mrs. Veale declared. “If we didn’t raise a variety of food we went without it,” she said. “Brother and I helped grind our own meal in a hand made mill that set in the front yard many a time. We just had to raise most of our groceries,” she smiled.
Flour, coffee, and sugar, known as the great luxuries of life, were obtainable by a long wagon trip to a small settlement near where Houston now stands. The goods were transported by wagon trains from New Orleans and distributed to Texans. “Those were real meatless and sugarless days,” she declared.
Mrs. Veale looks with disgust of disillusion upon the modern age. “Young folks are living and having a good time and why shouldn’t they? But they should remember the early pioneers who shouldered the work of opening the way to settlement of Texas. Most of them have passed on; brother and I are living on borrowed time.”
Except for being slightly blind, Mrs. Veale appears in perfect health. She lives with her daughter, Mrs. H. C. Casey, who keeps her in touch with present day events by reading the daily papers. Three months’ education, with split logs for seats and dirt floors for a carpet, was not noticeable in the conversation which was both intelligent and graphic.
“And to see the people some of them looking like scared rabbits, when the first puffing train came steaming in,” she smiled. “Oh, yes, it’s different. But it’s still old Texas to us and we love every foot of its ground.”
