A few days ago, someone knocked on my gate. It was a group of neighbors—some of whom I didn’t even know yet, as I had only recently moved to the area. They came to invite me to help build a pedestrian path along our houses.
SRBIJA NEWS – It turned out that residents had been waiting for construction materials for decades. This wasn’t just about convenience—it was about safety. The path would serve schoolchildren, the elderly, parents with strollers, and anyone heading to the local store, bakery, or vegetable stand. Without it, people had to cross to the other side of the street, constantly risking their lives with fast-moving cars.
Part of the new path was to run right along my fence. I had seen the activity and greeted the people working, assuming they were hired by the municipality or a local contractor. But I was wrong. Every pair of hands there belonged to a neighbor.
They had already laid down several dozen meters of the path—by themselves.
Midweek, we had a meeting across from my house. We agreed to begin work together that Saturday—bright and early at 6 a.m.
From Friday to Saturday, I barely slept. I was working from home late into the night. I woke up around 4 a.m., drank some coffee, and ate some plums—sweet, honeyed ones that are everywhere this time of year. I kept wondering why I was eating them when I knew I’d be working hard soon, but I couldn’t resist.
At around 6:15, I walked out and saw people gathering. Among them was the most active neighbor, the one who lived two doors down. He was in his 60s, full of energy. Just a few days earlier, we’d had a joyful conversation using six languages—Serbian, Croatian, Hungarian, Russian, German, and English. We laughed and understood each other perfectly.
He was leading the project. His old orange car, packed with tools, stood in front of the cement mixer. He moved faster than anyone else—sweating, running, organizing. We opened bags of cement together and poured them into the mixing trough. He wiped his forehead, jumped into his car, and drove off briefly—leaving the trunk open, knowing he’d be back in just a minute to grab more tools.
Things were moving.
I took up a shovel and rake and began leveling the ground in front of my house to prepare it for the concrete. About 30 minutes after we started, I went back to grab some tools. Just then, I heard the sound of an ambulance racing down the main road.
I turned to look—and saw it stop abruptly right in front of our worksite.
Lying in the trench—where we were about to pour concrete—was him. Our leader. My neighbor. My new friend. Just minutes before, he had been laughing with me, encouraging me, saying that because of my Ukrainian and Russian roots, we understood each other so well.
Now, he was pale—his face turning blue. Someone said: a heart attack.
I was in shock.
The paramedics fought to save him. They did everything—compressions, injections, machines. His legs twitched once, and I allowed myself to hope. I thought maybe they would say his heart was beating again and that he’d be okay.
But no.
More people began to arrive—his family, his children. People cried. Work stopped. His wife was rushing around, visibly overwhelmed with fear and disbelief.
And then I was told—he was gone.
I only knew this man for 30 minutes. But they were meaningful minutes. I don’t know much about him, and I write this without his family’s permission. But I believe he deserves a tribute. A monument, even.
Because he didn’t die in his sleep, or at home. He died while building something with his own hands for his community. He died doing what none of us had done for decades. He was leading, inspiring, giving. He died early on a Saturday morning, with a shovel in his hands, pouring his strength into something that would make life safer and kinder for others.
If that’s not the definition of a local hero, I don’t know what is.
I will never forget this morning. And I hope no one in Bácskossuthfalva — Stara Moravica — ever forgets it either.
Let his name be etched into that path. He built it. With his soul.
Vitaly Ataev Troshin.
Sources & corrections
SRBIJA NEWS identifies sources and updates information when available. If you notice an error or can provide verified local information, please contact the newsroom.
Send a correction or update
