«He was a dear, precious person. And you can’t let a person die like this.” The words are by Don Vincenzo Zambello, from the parish of San Tomaso. But they are shared by many. And this is Cicel’s story. Of an “invisible” as is defined by those who, like him, have the street as their residence. He was not “invisible” at all, Cicel. But what made him evanescent was his death. He was 59 years old, Cicel Turiceanu. He was Romanian. And his body was found at dawn on April 10th in front of San Tommaso. Lying on the ground, face down, Cicel. “Fell from the bench on which he was sleeping”, the hasty explanation of what, in all likelihood, was the news of an announced death. With a swollen face, “unrecognizable due to the bruises”, says those who knew him and saw him in that shroud which is the churchyard that he had chosen as his home. «And certainly not for the fall from a 42 centimeter high bench», agree Don Vincenzo and those who Cicel followed him and was his friend.
Cappuccino and coins
Why the “previous” of that death, certified by the first aid bracelet that Cicel had on his wrist, it tells of a beating. A beating, perhaps a push and then a fall in which he hit his head the evening before he died. Beaten up, Cicel, in Piazza Erbe and then taken to the hospital where he signed to exit. Those who knew him ask that his death be clarified. Because Cicel was absolutely “visible”, in that in-between world that goes from the Giardina gardens up Piazza Isolo up to that parish which has always been the church of those who have no home. Of those who, it is not known on the basis of which “ranking”, they are called “last”. Cicel wasn’t. His cosmos was there, among the benches that make up the rosary of the homeless. But he was something else. “One day I asked the faithful to bring the food scraps they had to give them to the chickens we have in the church park,” says Father Gabriel Codrea, a priest of the Orthodox church. «He was the first to show up with those leftovers». Cicel, who received his food from volunteers or from those – many – who gave it to him in his part of the world daily a cappuccino, a few coins, the cigarettes. He had alcohol as his life partner, Cicel. But that didn’t stop him from having a world.
The elements and the doubts
«I had found him a place to sleep at Don Calabria’s night reception, but he didn’t want it. He used to go there once, but lately he has refused”, says the lady who first and always assisted Cicel. She gave him the health card and followed him for years. “We are all angry about this death,” she says. Cicel had made friends with Don Vincenzo. He made him carry the cross to the Via Crucis, that priest he met in front of the church that had become his home. And Cicel did it for all stations. «I asked him if he was tired, but he made it to the end». They went to eat pizza together on Easter Sunday. And now Don Vincenzo, those who Cicel knew him and followed him and the friends who shared the road with him, want to understand what – and perhaps who – led to his death. «It may have happened due to natural causes, but there could be elements that caused it» say Don Vincenzo, the lady he was following and his friends. Because the wireless phone on the street says that Cicel was beaten a few hours before he died. Violently.
Waiting for the autopsy
«They hit him on the head, perhaps in Piazza Erbe – says the friend with whom he shared time and benches -. The evening he died he complained of a headache. His face was swollen. That night some friends brought him water. He said he felt bad. In the morning they found him dead.” The public prosecutor on duty has ordered external examination of the body. But the dozens of people who were Cicel’s world ask that we get to the bottom of it. His brother had him buried in Iasi, Romania, the city from where he arrived over twenty years ago. «He was an altruist, a victim of the world. He had given up fighting» says Father Codrea. But he hadn’t given up on living, Cicel. The Orthodox community will remember him in prayer. And Don Vincenzo Zambello will do the same thing. «I want – he says – to accompany this dear brother. I will say a mass with his companions of the road. It will be a human and religious moment, but with questions that we should all ask ourselves. Because you can’t let a person die like this.”
