Three years ago today, Louie Heckert died from injuries suffered when he was attacked by a rogue bull moose. Louie was a long-time member of the congregation I served in Colorado, and he was the most universally beloved man I have ever met. He was the character in chief in a town full of them, but unlike so many of the others, he was a gentle and welcoming man who always seemed to have a good word for everyone he met.
I will never forget telling my oldest daughter, who was then five years old, that he had been hurt and was probably going to die; her face grew sad and solemn, and she said, “I like Mr. Louie. He’s a nice man; he gives me candy.” There are a lot of things people will remember about him, and the candy is certainly one that children of all ages will remember fondly. There are others that stick in my mind as well, like his standard response when I asked him how he was doing: “Can’t complain, and nobody’d listen if I did.” I knew he had to be joking, but he said it as seriously as he ever said anything, with that twinkle in his eye. I wish I’d heard all his stories. I wish I had a good enough memory to recall all the ones I did hear. I’m glad I got the chance to get to know him.
After his death, folks in Grand Lake put a couple videos together, to help raise money to restore his old black Jeep and to advertise the town (something Louie would have considered an honorable tribute, given how much time and effort he put into advertising the town himself). Here’s the longer one, which includes interviews with Gene, John Cook, Steve Cormey, and others: