On the morning of January 13th, the clock in Kanapinskas' flat in Kėdainiai stopped. Terrible news came to Taikos Street that minute.
-On Friday, my mother and I watched and laughed as they showed witty posters on television. As if I had a presentment, I said that we would cry later on. And on Sunday morning I heard my mother crying. I looked at the clock, but it had stopped. The hands showed 6 o'clock, - tells Kristina Kanapinskaitė, a ninth-form pupil.
-At first I didn't believe my neighbors when they said that my husband was dead. Maybe he was just wounded? But the radio and television confirmed the awful fact, - interferes Regina Kanapinskienė. - Alvydas returned from his night shift at the biochemical plant on Saturday morning. In the evening he got ready to go to Vilnius. I tried to stop him: give yourself a rest. He said: „A few buses are going from Kėdainiai. How can I stay? Don't be afraid, nothing's going to hap¬pen. We're just going to stand there." He's always like that when somebody asks or incites him. He was a spreader for the public press, and was also a donor. He gave blood to others many times. When he heard the call to go to the capital that evening, he put on warm clothes, took some food, kissed me and left, - quivers Regina Kanapinskienė's voice.
-There was still no Sąjūdis when Alvydas was already saying that Lithuania would be independent one day. While in the army, he understood what was what. He had been called for military training more than once. When he received the last call, he decided that he would no longer serve in a foreign army... Maybe his sacrifice is not without meaning, but it pains us very much, - his wife says with grief. - We lived together for 17 years, we raised our children. There are a thousand and one things left to do. The children really need their father. Kristina isn't small anymore and is an excellent pupil, but Ramūnas used to get threes (out of five) when his father didn't push him.
Talking like this, I am sure that Ramūnas will wait for the strict words of his father that are already in his memory, and that Kristina will hear „Strazdanosė" („Freckle-nose") - his nickname for her. And Regina, no matter how hard she looks, will never find it written on her husband's death certificate that Alvydas Kanapinskas died from sub-machine gun bullets lodged in his chest. Unfortunately, Alvydas Kanapinskas himself will never come home. His remains rest in Kėdainiai cemetery, and a sculpture of Rūpintojelis by folk artist V. UIevičiius protects his grave.
Lithuania, 1991.01.13 : documents, testimonies, comments. - Vilnius : State Publishing Center, 1992, p. 49.