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What makes Dupont sights so special is the quiet way, with the history here whispers through the fields and the few streets. I remember driving over the old railway bridge, which dates back to the 1880s for the first time, and I immediately felt that this little town has more to tell than to guess at first sight. Perry Township, which surrounds the village, was once an important hub for the agricultural supply of the county, and this one still feels today when you pass the old barns that look like rusty time capsules.
A short detour by Columbus's car over the US‐24 is hardly more than half an hour – and suddenly you are in the heart of Putnam County, where people are still talking about their own stories with an eye-catcher. I often wondered why the locals are so proud of the annual harvesting festival; the answer is probably in the unmistakable mix of rustic hospitality and a hint of self-iron, which you can immediately feel at the chat in the local diner. So if you're looking for a place that is not overrun by tourist crowds, but where you can feel the real Ohio, then Dupont is just the right thing – and that's not only true for the few but fine Dupont sights I've discovered here.
This guide invites you to sneak with me through the tiny but self-willing dupont, where I feel a bit in the past every time I see the old water tank.
I must admit that my first meeting with the Dupont Historical Museum was rather random – I was looking for a place to silence my thirst for history, and landed in a rebuilt school house that seems to be more dust than dust collectors. The exhibitions are not highly polished tourist attractions, but rather a lovingly collapsed collection of old school books, photos of farm families and a crunchy swing chair, which was apparently no longer moved since the 1930s. If you are a fan of honest, not exaggerated stories, this is your thing; I don't quite understand the hype about shiny museums, but this honest corner of Dupont has something authentic that makes me dwell every time.
A short walk further leads you to Dupont Community Park, a place that is more than just a playground – here the locals meet to the Sunday roast, baseball games, and occasionally to spontaneous karaoke sessions that you don't hear if you don't happen to sit in the background. Parking is usually easy, except on Saturday night, there will be a real problem because then the whole village seems to have decided to grill there at the same time. The small lake in the park is not deep enough for swimming, but perfect for a bit of duck observation, and the noise of the wind through the trees is almost as soothing as the sum of an old stereo system.
If you prefer to look for a little rest between the loud conversations, then stroll to Dupont Public Library. I spent more time there than I would like to admit – between the shelves from the 1990s and the creeping reading table, I find again and again a forgotten book about the history of grain mills in Ohio. The librarian, Mrs. Hargrove, knows every visitor by name and occasionally raises an ironic commentary about the “modern” world of e-books, while it reaches you an old but well-preserved copy of “The Grapes of Wrath”.
A short detour to St. Mary's Catholic Church lets you stop the time. The brick building from the early 20. The century radiates a silent dignity that is rarely found in such small communities. I took part in a midnight Mass there, because I had run, and the echo of the organ sounded almost like a further call from another era. The windows decorated with colorful glass throw colored patterns on the wooden bench, and the whole thing has a charm you don't find in guides because it's just too... everyday.
Another highlight I cannot overlook is the old Dupont Train Depot. Today it serves as a community centre, but the original rails and the rusty sign “Dupont – 1905” remind that once trains were full of travellers. I once met a local historian who told me that the depot was the heart of the trade before the trucks took the road. Today there are sometimes flea markets where you can find old maps and rusted tools – a paradise for treasure hunters and nostalgists.
One might think that this is all that Dupont has to offer, but then one falls the massive, unmistakable Dupont Water Tower in the eye that watches over the fields like a silent guard. I have never found an elevator there, but the view from the foot of the tower, when the sun goes over the corn fields, is a sight that I would put to everyone's heart. It is not a place where you can find a café, but the picture is so iconic that it has almost become a symbol for the whole city.
I do not want to local grain mills forgot those who, like silent witnesses of agricultural history, sit on the main road. I once met an old miller who told me that the mill is still in operation, even at special occasions. The sound of the grinder that slowly grinds is almost hypnotic, and the whole scenario reminds me of why I visit this place again and again – it is the mixture of work, history and a pinch of dusty romance.
So if you travel to Dupont the next time, remember that the Dupont Attractions not in glossy brochures, but in the small, slightly dusty corners that only a real visitor discovers. And if you don't see me anymore, you'll probably find me at the water tank, where I think with a coffee in my hand about why I come back here again and again – because it's just real.
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