february 1983.

I smoked genuine Herzegovinian škija as fermented and cut in Zadar. That one doesn't stink. I know, a colleague of mine, in MPSŠC, had to quit smoking. He had a bad flu, which turned worse than he thought, but coming the 2nd semester he just felt he had to go to work. As his sense of smell returned, said "everything stinks... except that stuff you're smoking, that's the only one that's still nice".

It turned out he went back to work too early. He died within two weeks. Practically whole staff room came to the funeral, plus a lot of colleagues from other schools, his whole class and, of course, family.

I guess the year is 1983 because I remember the first floor windows behind him, not ground floor - and we didn't put schools together until fall 1983, when we moved into the big frontside staff room (actually two and a half classrooms put together, by those movable walls). At that time, we were still in the small staff room above the workshop. Unless my memory is quite off.


Mentions: MPSŠC, Zadar, in serbian