On the pages of Austin history, we stop at the year 1864 and find VIGILANTE JUSTICE ON 6TH STREET…….
Whether referring to Jon, Jay, William or Joe, if a Willis or a Willis relation was seen walking towards you on the 6th Street boardwalk, you stepped down and crossed to the other side of the street. They were a nasty bunch, those Willis boys. History clearly shows that the name Willis meant trouble. At the Austin History Center under the file’s nuisance, horse thief, drunk and murderer the name Willis reigns.
The seven Willis boys, their father and extended family grew up in the hills west of Austin, known today as Westlake Hills. No mention has ever been made of a mother.
The terrain west of the city was as rough as the people who lived there. The plant and animal life able to survive on the glen rose limestone offered little means to earn a living. The rocky earth could not support corn, cotton or cattle.
There was, though, an abundance of cedar trees. Many wealthy Austin families owned large tracts of land in the hills and employed the locals to cut and chop the cedar and haul it to their homes and businesses for fuel. This is how many hill people earned a living and they have since been referred to as ‘Cedar Choppers’.
Apparently, the Willis’ believed they were too good for such work, in fact, they felt downright resentful. Why should they chop cedar for some rich city folk?
Money, did though, continue to be a necessity and in 1864 they found that their funds were running low.
It was a frightening thing to imagine a Willis boy thinking, especially while drinking. But it happened, in the long dingy room in a saloon on 6th Street. There one sat… smoke, the setting sun and bad lamps made it difficult for him to see. Even so, when Mr. William walked through the swinging doors it was crystal clear what he thought of the place and everybody in it. The manner in which he turned up his nose as his disapproving eyes scanned the saloon said it all. Catching sight of Mike, the stable hand, he immediately moved towards him, pulling him up by his arm and dragging him out the door as fast as he could.
As the swinging doors snapped back and forth this Willis was sitting alone at a small round table next to the back wall watching, hate his only emotion. Seething hate toward Mr. Williams and all his sort. Folk like the William’s just naturally irked any Willis. Hardworking, family oriented, just plain predictable. The concept grated on his rotten soul.
