Jan Firbas, the man who had a calling
Jan Firbas, the man who had a calling

Summary/Abstract: It was Friday morning, 5 May 2000. Spring was in the air. On my way to the faculty at Arne Nováka St., Brno, I crossed the yard with trees in blossom and followed the pathway to the dear shabby buff building which housed the Department of English and American studies back then. I habitually went upstairs to turn left onto the long corridor with its familiar, somewhat stuffy smell and a row of high, packed bookcases and several large wooden doors leading to teachers’ offices; those who have ever been there will certainly recall the same sentiment. I was heading to see the secretary to pick up some handouts left there as usual for students at the old-time pigeonhole storage. I found the secretary standing motionless by her desk. Upon my arrival, she said bluntly: “Professor Firbas has died…” At that moment, the world stopped turning for me. Professor Firbas had been ill for some time, yet the sad news caught me off guard. I was overwhelmed by feelings of bewilderment, grief and, most of all, emptiness. So, being his last diploma student, I wouldn’t be able to finish my master thesis under his supervision; it only needed a few finishing touches now. Never again would I hear his soothing voice. Nor would I see his smiling, kind face. An era had come to an end.

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