contact LeMars.NET © LeMars.NET His eyes were sunken and piercing, placed on a face right out of a central casting call for prophets or hermits.  His hair long, tangled salt and pepper that hadn't been touched for who knows how long.  Concealing what appeared to be an undernourished body was a long, heavy overcoat that was robe like enough to add to the appearance of one right out of the Old Testament. Something befitting a prophet who was assigned to the Northern climes rather than the Holy Land.  It was obvious he hadn't shopped at the corner men's store for awhile – like forty years. Not only didn't he fit in Le Mars, did he fit on Earth?  What was his element?  Certainly not a Midwestern, small college town full of Northern European Methodists, Lutherans and Catholics.  We're neat, tidy, usually polite, yet guarded to the core.  We're of a religious heritage where only an occasional nutcase dares mention hellfire or brimstone.  But then again, the 1960's had us all questioning what was going on in the world around us. Located just two blocks south was Westmar College.  Educational pursuit was in high gear the day Brother Epstein appeared.  Westmar was humming at its peak