The guy on the "third side of Morava" (the logbook held 13 students per page, and he was 27th when we were in 2nd grade). A large guy from a nearby village (about 25km). At first he came across as somewhat rude or crude, short fused, with a rather heavy accent (bosnian or herzegovinian, still don't know), but he quickly tamed his quarrelsome temperament and turned out to be a good friend to practically everyone, except perhaps Bajče - for some reason, he always picked on the little one, from first grade to the days of IV5pp.
He graduated economy, and I actually didn't see him much until he got an apartment on 25. maj, even though it wasn't my neighborhood anymore. His wife worked at the heating plant, which was our customer then (early nineties). Even at the time when I was working at stour and he was some kind of a manager in Čelik, which was just half a block away and I did visit occasionally, saw him there only once or twice.
Last time we met was during The Walk, january 1997, when he said he heard a lot about how the gourd broke at DBA, and that he was proud of me for turning out to be a man.
Those days Čelik was falling apart, and he was forced to become the director of it, which he knew he couldn't take for long, so he evaded it by switching to work at the city police. That's where he still was when I heard he died, around 2003 or so. He was sitting in front of the supermarket, on a bench having a beer, between to shifts of driving a tractor (still had some land in the village), when he just keeled over, out of the blue. He was the first one of us to go.
1-V-2021 - 15-IV-2026