- Dear God, what I saw on Polocko Street - wounded, torn up!... My heart can't bear it, I thought. I better get out of here before I collapse. And suddenly I recognized my man! In his side - a wound, - recollects Apolonija Vaitkienė. The two of them met for the first time 20 years ago in the village of Šnieriškiai. It was summer, the Labanora forest was rustling. Vytautas, who was working as a driver for Cinema Studio at the time, accidently ended up in the remote village of the Molėtai region that was Apolonija's homeland. He drove her and her friend back to Vilnius. Word after word, they began talking and commiserating with each other: they had both seen the same hardships and were both quickly approaching 30. They became friends. Although they were both of different characters. She was a quiet Highlander and used to consider everything, while he was a strong Lowlander from Šilalė.
-At first it was hard to get along with him - he was hot-tempered and stubborn. Later I understood: he never kept his anger inside. I kept to myself, and turning around, did what needed to be done. I knew that in an hour his conscience would get to him and he would apologize a hundred times over.
He loved early spring, the first warmth. Sick of warm clothes, he would throw them off and take a walk through the Panerys paths. When he bought a car, the family used to go on free days to Šnieriškiai, where Apolonija's parents' old house was. He patched the roof, dug up the garden, pruned old apple-trees and planted new ones - an occupation loved by every Lithuanian. And the country air. Not everybody understands what it means to have your own potatoes, your own well-water.
His health was strong - longevity runs in his family. His mother, aunts and uncles all lived past 80. Although I saw that it was difficult for him to have two jobs, I used to understand: he wanted to associate with people, and there was something going on at the Sports Palace almost every day. What a holiday the rebirth of Lithuania was - and what anxiety filled the heart that painful hour! Not finding a place at home, Vaitkus went to Independence Square. To be with everyone. At night tanks had waken them up. The husband got dressed and hesitated for a moment at the door. It was like he was anticipating that he wouldn't return.
With frightened eyes, his son brought the painful news: the father's car is parked by the tower, - and he held an edition of „Respublika" with the names of the people who had been killed.
He lived the true life of a man: he loved his wife, raised a son and planted apple-trees. Only he didn't have time to build a house, in which future generations and a stranger lost in the night could have found shelter. Shot by a bullet, Vytautas Vaitkus fell defending the foundation of the future house. The foundation of the house that we have all been building. Let him have eternal peace and remembrance...
Lithuania, 1991.01.13 : documents, testimonies, comments. - Vilnius : State Publishing Center, 1992, p. 63.