Echoes of the Willow

By Michelle Allen

Michelle Allen is a community storyteller dedicated to preserving the history and charm of Hesperia. Learn more at http://www.echoesofthewillow.com.

Long before its name changed, long before milk trucks became tankers, there was a place in Hesperia where butter was born.

Alpha Creamery Co. was established on September 9, 1919, by Ed LeFevre, though in its earliest days it bore a simpler name–Hesperia Creamery. It served a practical, vital purpose: farmers brought in sour cream that had been separated right on the farm. The creamery churned it into butter, a lifeline for local families trying to eke out a living from the land. Local farmers brought in their cream—separated at home—and the creamery churned it to life. It wasn’t just a factory; it was a lifeline.

Not long after, the name changed to Alpha Creamery, but the mission remained the same. It wasn’t just a business; it was a haven for rural resilience, especially during the lean years of the Great Depression. Families credited the creamery as a godsend, a place that quite literally turned hardship into sustenance.

The family legacy deepened when Ed’s nephew, Clement Kraus, moved to Hesperia to work at the creamery. He later opened his own dry goods store, another thread in the ever-growing patchwork of small-town economy and survival.

The Depression pressed hard on small towns, but Alpha stood strong. It kept doors open and families afloat. As war loomed, Alpha was awarded contracts to produce butter and condensed milk for the military. By 1947, it had become the largest creamery in Western Michigan, handling Grade A whole milk and boasting a record production year.

But tides shifted. Rationing ended. Contracts vanished. By September 9, 1948, exactly 29 years from its founding, Alpha closed its doors.

At some point, the Carnation Company took over the building, operating until 1961, continuing to serve area farmers from the same site. From cream cans to condensed milk, the building churned stories into every batch.

And though I never saw it with my own eyes, a piece of it still feels like home.

I believe my grandfather, Arthur William Birr, Sr., worked at the Alpha Creamery sometime after the 1930s. He was a quiet man who also worked at the Crate Works—a local business that fashioned wooden shipping crates, another pillar of Hesperia industry. Though I never heard him speak much of it, knowing he walked those same creamery floors—maybe shoulder to shoulder with neighbors, maybe during those wartime expansions—roots this history in my own bones. His hands helped turn the wheels of this town’s economy. His footsteps are part of that churn.

And it doesn’t stop there. My mother, Helen Josephine Birr Newberry, used to churn butter by hand—from milk provided by our dear neighbor and family friend, William “Bill” Binns. I remember watching her pour off the cream and saving just a little for me. That sweet richness—cold, smooth, and pure—remains one of the best tastes of my childhood. Maybe it’s why I’ve never been able to give up butter entirely (and maybe that’s why I can’t lose the last few pounds either!).

These aren’t just stories—they’re threads of living memory, stitched into the quilt, woven inuto the fabric of Hesperia’s past. Reading Terry E. Wantz’s account, Creameries and Dairies of Newaygo Co., brings that legacy into sharper focus. It reminds us of the many hands that built these industries and the many families that fed these operations, quite literally. And the families whose labor kept them alive–from the butter churned, bottled, hauled, and stored. And how many hearts were carried with them? From the hand-cranked butter churns of the 1920s to the hum of refrigerated trucks of the 1950s, the evolution of dairies like Alpha, Blue Line, Fremont Co-op, Stroven’s, and Sunny Service created not just jobs—they built a web of nourishment, resilience, and quiet pride that held this region together.

So much of it is gone now. The buildings. The rail cars. The milk bottles with cursive labels. What’s left are rusted cream cans, calendars passed out at Christmas, and stories—if we’re lucky enough to still hear them.

If your grandfather once hauled milk on frosty mornings or your great-aunt remembered the smell of butter wafting from the cooling vats, if your family remembers the hum of the churns or the names on milk crates… I’d love to hear from you. 📬 Message me at allenmic6482@yahoo.com and let’s preserve it together—before it slips quietly from memory.

Because remembering feeds something more profound than history, it nourishes the soul — sharing preserves. And preserving protects.

From the information I was able to gather from Facebook and other sites, (please correct me if I am wrong!)
Identified Individuals in the Alpha Creamery Photo
• Back Row
o Man far left: Ben Schmidt – Butter maker
o 4th man from left: Possibly Delano Playter
o 5th man from left: Ed LeFevre – Owner
o Man with arms crossed (possibly): Dayton Kroepel
• Front Row
o 2nd woman from the left: Possibly Florence McLaren
o 4th woman from right: Evidene Meyers
o 6th woman from left: Mary Kroepel (confirmed by Ruth Kolbe)
o Far right woman: Margaret LeFevre
o Seated in front (possibly): Mary Diane McFarland’s mother, Arlene Kroepel Kies
Additional Individuals Affiliated with Alpha Creamery (Not Confirmed in Photo)
• Creamery Staff & Drivers
o Clarissa Markillie Kraus – Milk tester (late 1930s/early ’40s)
o Harold Adams – Night shift
o Marge Hammond – Bookkeeper after 1944
o Martha Bergklint – Worked in the 1940s
o Ivan Bolles – Tanker semi driver (early 1940s)
o Leo Bolles – Semi driver
o Hollis Schmidt – Hauled canned milk
o Marvin Moon – Hauled canned milk
o Jay Hettmansperger – Worked there in the 1940s
o Pete Theetge’s father – Early truck driver for Alpha
o William “Bill” Binns – Supplied milk to local families (connected to my mom’s butter-churning story, but not confirmed he donated to the Creamery)