The Henry and Annie Fal Dupont family lived in Butler from 1910 to 1918. Henry died in Butler in 1912. The family moved to Wisconsin and most of them worked in the Kimberly Clark Paper Company.

First I will tell you what happened to our family; Ma died in Kimberly in 1933. Harry was chief electrical engineer for Kimberly Clark, and died in 1948. Herman was head office manager for Kimberly Clark and retired in 1965. Frank is a Norbertine priest. He retired to Holy Angels Convent in Manitowoc, Wisconsin. John worked for Kimberly Clark at Niagara Falls. He died in 1964. Joe worked for Kimberly Clark in the electrical department, having retired in 1965. William also worked for Kimberly Clark as a chemist and retired in 1968. Mathew worked for Kimberly Clark and died in 1972. He was the only one of us who was born in the United States.>

Rev. Vanden Heavel came to Holland in 1908 to interest people to come to America. He was financed by Johnson Stock Farin Company, who wanted to sell land they bought from the government for about two dollars per acre, and sell to settlers at thirty dollars per acre. When we came to New York Mills, there were a number of horse-drawn buggies waiting to take us to Butler - I well remember the ride to Butler. Along the way Carl Gownitz, the stock farm manager, drove past and handed out apples. The farmer who drove our buggy took us right past the Hanson Store, (later Butler Store) where we were supposed to live, and brought us to the stock farm. There he let us know that that was as far as he went, so Ma and four of us kids walked back to the store. Ma found some strange bugs upstairs in Hansons' store. She did not know what they were, but they turned out to be bed bugs - about a million of them.

My dad had to buy sixty acres, but did not intend to farm, but rather to build and do carpentry work. I believe he was very disappointed and took sick after a few years. He then moved to the sixty acres and built a house and tried farming, about which he knew very little. The horses he bought had the heaves, the cows, Bangs disease, and the chickens froze to death. I remember when our first calf was born. Dad covered all the barn windows so we boys could not peek. He then got a chair and his doctor's book and sat in the barn all night, by the cow. He fell asleep and when he woke up, there was the calf.

Ma served as midwife to many farmers wives in the area, there being no doctor within miles. I still remember her as she went out wearing a big cape. She learned a lot about the natives while she was helping out like that. She was a well educated woman. There was a scarlet fever epidemic in Butler around 1914. Some of the kids died and nobody would go near them. My brothers Herman and Frank volunteered to help bury them.

When Francis Hendrickx died of blood poisoning, I went over to their house. Their uncle was making a coffin for Francis in the living room. It was very sad.

My brothers, Jack and Nick Polman went hunting and came to a mower that was standing in a field. Nick sat on the seat. His gun slipped and discharged hitting him in the shoulder and arm. Jack carried him all the way home.

We were swimming in Bear Lake when I went beyond my depth and started to dance to keep my head above water and danced right down hill to the center of the lake. John Polman formed a human chain of kids and got hold of me and pulled me out.

Our priest, Father Keyzers, fasted so much that he got so weak he could not support himself. When he said Mass, he was supported by brother John on one side and brother Harry on the other side. He was a very pious man. During a sermon one Sunday, he said that any girl going to a dance on Saturday night was a woman of the streets. Ben Roes, sitting in the back part of church, got up and said out loud, "No, No." He was shown out of the church right away.

John and I did quite a bit of trapping during those years. Muskrats hides were about four to five dollars, mink fourteen to sixteen dollars. Weasels were worth four to six dollars each. We also trapped skunk and tried to trap wolves but never caught one. We shipped the hides to Funston Brothers in St. Louis. That's about the only income we had.

During those years, John earned a dollar a week by going to school Dist. 263 early and firing up the big potbellied stove in the one room school. It stood in the northwest corner of the room and was about four feet in diameter. We used to toast bread (spread with lard) on top of this stove. Our teachers got about thirty five dollars a month some of the teachers I remember are Miss Nelson, Miss Hattie Herman and Miss Gunda Johnson. One noon hour us boys went to the fire tower in back of school. We all went up all right, but when it was time to come down, I looked down that ladder and panicked. We got to school at 3 P.M.

We used to hear the coyotes howling at night and always pulled the blankets over our heads to shut out the sound. It was scary.

There was a Baptist minister living about two miles north of the school. He was a very kind man. One Christmas season, he invited all of us Dutch kids to a Christmas party. His name was Pierce. His son Archie Pierce came to get us. He had a big deep bobsled filled with hay and driven by six big horses with sleigh bells. It was a thrill for us. We had popcorn, cookies, cake and pop. I saw the first movie in the town hall. It was "The Great Train Robbery." We also had some dances in the hall. I used to go to listen to the music. I had to be home by 10 o'clock. At one of the dances the Roberts boys (all six footers), and Herman Swenson came to the dance. They lived about three miles north of the school and were pretty tough Yankees, except Swenson who was Norwegian. Anyway, during the dance Gracha Dykhoff took off his wooden shoes and performed a cartwheel on the dance floor, and that started the fight. It was wild. I saw Dykhoff take his wooden shoe and clomp those guys over the head. Everyone was fighting. I got out through a side window. Behind the store two fellows were fighting, (Ben Roes and Andy Johnson from out Paddock way.) I watched for a while and then Ben said, "Let's stop and wash the blood off our faces." First Ben pumped water for Andy to wash his face and then Any pumped water for Ben. Then Andy said, "All right, let's go." and they started slugging each other again. It was getting late and I beat it for home, about a mile I guess.

The church and cemetery were on top of a hill and as I biked past the cemetery I heard a howl. When I hit the loose sand at he bottom of the hill, I took a bad spill. I just took off and went after my bike the next day.

The first band in Butler was started by brother Harry. We ordered some horns from Sears Roebuck. They had tissue paper instead of reeds for sound. We practiced awhile but nothing came of it.

There was a creamery on the old Dykhoff farm when we came to Butler, but it was later moved to the stock farm. The stock farm was experimenting with growing tobacco. They had drying barn on the Dykhoff farm. I think the manager, Carl lownitz, was a college man. For a while the stock farm was operated by the Fowlers. They were very musical. Belle Fowler played the piano and the boys also played some instruments.

Then there were the De Bruins who ran the farm. Prudent Jaques ran the store for many years and his partner, Emile Rosiere, ran the farm. I worked for Emile, who was a bachelor, about a year before coming to Kimberly. I got my first car ride from Jaques in his Ford.

Our farm never was much. Ma remembered that onions were very expensive in Rotterdam, so we planted about two acres of them. We worked hard all summer pulling weeds. When Fall came we took our onions to Perham, but nobody would buy them. We hauled our onions home and dumped them in back of the barn. The cows were so hungry they ate the onions and tainted the milk. We could not sell the cream.

As I recall, the first people who lived on the Dykhoff farm were named Browers. He was a big bombastic man. He wore a big watch and chain across his front. Also, the name of Beshort or Bischot come to me. I can't place him anymore. I must ask Frank when I see him.

I thank God that my parents brought us to this country, but it caused an early death to my father and worked a great hardship on my mother. Those people who induced my parents to come across and sold us that swamp land knew very well that no one could make a living there. At least they should have known. My Mother and Dad were city people and could not adapt to the situation. If there is a heaven and hell, those people will get their rewards.