"Mornin!"
          We had heard that cheery greeting many times the past seven years.
          We had heard it as we entered his kitchen; we had heard it as he had greeted hundreds of others, thru the wall that separates the BANNER from the Homestead cafe.
          As always, we noted, Louie Inselman was at his post; pleasant; eager that a new day had begun. And a new day, to Lou, held the promise of a rare coin, and interesting story, a visit from an old friend passing by, or a plea from a tramp who knew that here was a place one would not leave hungry.
          But, alas, Saturday was a different day. Louie, you see, died Friday night.
          True, the past year or so it was not unusual to find the world barred from his door. Lou's health had failed since a severe heart attack two years earlier; it suffered even more last September when he was away for three months or more.
         But he came back to his rightful spot--the cafe, the place that he, and his wife, had purchased in May of 1929. Though trying to take it easier, he succumbed about 11:30 in the night at his home after putting another day in that long line of days, when laid end to end, would amount to nearly 33 years in business in Kerkhoven.
          Death came, like Sandburg said of fog, "on cat feet", silently, peacefully. 
          Louis James Inselman had two loves. One was his love of Mother Nature. It must have been in youth on his parent's farm near Forest City that he learned to love the earth and all the beauty God sends forth from it. Often he spoke of hikes along the banks of the Crow river; wooded glens; spring green meadows. Forest City, his May 5, 1886 birthplace, was once the county seat of Meeker county Louie said rather proudly last week. It had a large flour mill, too, and Litchfield, the county seat now, must have taken a backseat, one could tell from Lou's tone.
          His folks, Edwin and Henrietta Inselman, besides their farm, operated a sawmill. That explains Lou's love of trees. He was an expert; did much tree-trimming in Kerk and was THE tree authority for many, many area folks who sought his counsel.
          The forests drew him as a youth to British Columbia, where for several years he worked in a lumber camp.
          Only a couple of weeks ago, as Lou and I walked, he carrying a box of bakery rolls slated as companions for his delicious mornin' coffee, he said, "fifty years ago today I started behind the counter." He explained that was when he returned to Forest City and ran a grocery store.
          His other love he found in that small Meeker county village. She was Iva Lou Pancake. The girl a farm or two away. They were married November 28, 1917.
          Lou worked for a time at Litchfield and in 1929 they came to Kerkhoven.
          In his many years here he was active in civic doings. Not in the foreground, perhaps, but as a booster of many worthwhile projects.
          Greatest of these was the beauty of the parks. He was the prime mover in changing the railroad park (Belsheim park) from a catch-all junk yard to a "thing of beauty."
          He had been a member of the Lions club and Commercial club and was an ardent coin collector. Coins and gardening were his hobbies and he excelled in both.
          Funeral services were held Tuesday at 2 p.m. at First Presbyterian Church, of which he was a member, with student pastor David Jamieson officiating.
          Pallbearers included Russel Schutt, George Engh, Wm. Doering, Lloyd Sundeen, Harley Denton and Kenneth Minor.
          The Baptist Men's quartet, Marvin Wahlstrom, Kenneth Peterson, Loren Peterson and Russell Bauman, sang "Rock of Ages" and "Sometime We'll Understand." Mrs. Russel Schutt was organist.
          He is survived by his wife and one daughter, Joyce Adelle (Mrs. Dell Rick), her husband and children, Michael and Gayle, of Litchfield; two brothers, Ellis of El Segundo, Calif., and Leonard of Litchfield. Three brothers died before.
          Burial will be at Forest City.
          "Beneath the shadow of the Great Protection, The soul sits, hushed and calm."