HOMELESS man Vedran Kohut, who spent much time in Limerick over the past seven months with his faithful dog Evelyn, died tragically last week. Limerick Post reporter Alan Jacques remembers his friend.
ON the way home from work in a torrential downpour last Wednesday, November 18, I heard a report on the radio that Gardaí in Blanchardstown were investigating a traffic collision on the M50 in which a ‘male’ was killed.
The rain was so heavy that I struggled to see the cars in front of me. Driving in these conditions was hard enough so I didn’t give the news much thought other than to think for a fleeting moment how awful it was that another life had been lost on our roads.
According to the newsreader, the collision, which involved a lorry and a pedestrian, occurred at around 2.10pm.
“No one else was injured in the collision. The man’s body has been removed to the mortuary at Blanchardstown Hospital and Lane 3 has been opened, with the other two lanes closed to facilitate a forensic collision examination,” a matter-of-fact voice informed its listeners.
News of the poor man’s passing quickly faded from my mind.
However, the next morning, this news bulletin was to make more of a personal impact on me when the fatally injured man’s identity was made known.
I received an email from a reporter at the Herald newspaper at 9am explaining that he had Googled the deceased’s name and discovered that it was “the same man you spoke with recently about homelessness in Limerick”.
I immediately felt my heart break.
I hoped all morning that it was not the same person, but as more detail came through it was clear that there was going to be no escaping this hammer blow.
Vedran Kohut was born on August 13, 1978.
I had only gotten to know the 37-year-old Croatian seven months before his tragic death but I liked him instantly. You could not help but like him.
A tall, handsome man, there was a softness and warmth about Vedran that made it impossible for him not to win a place in your heart.
He will certainly always have a place in mine.
Every time I met him, whether on a street corner or when he came by the office, the greeting was always the same.
“How are you my friend?” he would always say.
It felt like he was welcoming you into his home. In fact he was.
Vedran was a free spirit; he considered the whole world his home, and every last person in it, his family. He had a massive heart and for a man who had few material possessions, he had love enough inside him for everyone.
He was an extraordinary individual.
Like the rest of us, Vedran was not without his complexities, and despite the chaotic life he lived, on some level he wanted better for himself.
Vedran was an adventurer, a dreamer, a gentleman, an animal lover, a people person and a survivor. He was also passionate, impractical, sincere, kind, friendly, confident, resilient, erratic, determined, intelligent, brave, manic, compassionate and homeless.
Homeless was what Vedran was. It wasn’t who he was. It didn’t define him as a human being. He was so much more than just homeless.
One of the last times I met him he arrived at the Limerick Post office with a copy of his CV in case I heard of any work going. He dreamed of having a home and car and one day setting up his own business in Limerick. He was constantly looking for work.
He had dreams, hopes and aspirations just like anyone else.
The man I thought of as a friend also lived with schizophrenia. I often feared that this, combined with his naivety, gentle nature and resolute belief in the goodness of others might put him in harm’s way — especially, when he was off his medication.
Even though I had only known Vedran a short time, I would find myself worrying about him if I hadn’t seen him in a few weeks and always hoped he was okay. I would always feel a great sense of relief when he would turn up out of the blue like Don Quixote back from another turbulent adventure.
Before he came knocking on the Limerick Post’s door at the end of March this year looking to speak with a reporter, he and his faithful canine companion, Evelyn, had visited 29 cities across Europe since setting out on their journey in 2013. The pair travelled everywhere together from Slovakia to Poland, Czech Republic, Slovenia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Germany, Switzerland, Austria, Italy and France.
Vedran was devoted to his pet dog, Evelyn. The love he had for this quiet-natured animal is rare enough between people. He cared so much for his four-legged sidekick. It was beautiful to see and I think this bond goes a long way to show the wonderful person he truly was.
Vedran was not a man to be feared or looked down upon; he was a caring and loving person who deserved so much better.
“Evelyn, my dog, has travelled everywhere with me. She is everything to me. I keep learning from her and our adventures so far have been amazing and inspiring. Evelyn is a carrier of a very light and free energy. Her unconditional love is something I keep learning from.”
On his journey Vedran made new friends, fell in love, had his heart broken, worked when he could find it, volunteered at homeless shelters, made more friends, partied, learned new languages, studied and took refuge in people’s homes, roadsides, under bridges and the night sky.
He lived a nomadic lifestyle and it was clear to me from the moment I met him that this was a personal choice. Life to him was a quest. His flag was constantly being uprooted. He hopped from one good cause to another, one chaotic environment to another, and uncertainty followed him at every step.
Vedran first arrived in Ireland in November 2005. Up until May 2012 he managed to hold down jobs, both full-time and part-time, in different Dublin pubs and restaurants as a waiter and barman. He then returned home to Croatia for a few months where he volunteered at a homeless shelter in Zagreb before setting off on his great European walkabout.
Vedran’s time in Ireland stayed with him while on his travels and he told me that it was here that he always dreamed of building a life for himself. He felt a rapport with the Irish people and his outgoing and welcoming nature made him a perfect fit.
He returned to Ireland in January of this year, but sadly, it was chaos and upheaval from the off with his passport, laptop and other personal belongings stolen while travelling by train to Galway. His intention, on returning to Ireland, was to reconvene his Degree in Hospitality Management in Dublin. He had completed the first year of his course before getting itchy feet and jumping ship.
Vedran had also hoped to find full-time work in Ireland but was unsuccessful. Of course, he arrived in Ireland like he did everywhere else, just hoping for the best, and sure that things would somehow just work themselves out. There was never a plan.
Vedran didn’t do practical. He jumped in with both feet. There was no problem too big for him, and he seemed oblivious most of the time to the gravity of his situation.
The second time I met this beautiful, but deeply troubled soul was along the banks of the River Shannon where he was living in a makeshift camp. Wet clothes hung from tree branches and food and books lay soiled on the muddy ground. I was horrified, yet Vedran appeared unfazed.
“Don’t worry about me, everything I need is all around me. If you ever need a blanket or some food come down here and take what you need. This is for everyone,” he insisted.
As I left him that afternoon, deeply concerned for his wellbeing, I will never forget as long as I live, him shouting across the Friday traffic to me to tell me to mind myself.
He cared so much for others that he seemed incapable of putting himself in the picture. His first and only thought was for other people.
I tried to get Vedran some help to try and get him out of this dire situation, but sadly, he couldn’t be helped because he didn’t see a problem.
Others including Novas Initiatives and the Council’s Homeless Action Team also did their best to help this young man but, I always suspected, there was unwillingness on his part to engage. He wanted better, at the same time he didn’t, or was unable to break the chaotic cycle to accept real change.
This chaotic lifestyle for Vedran, like many other street homeless, was one of choice. And despite the fact that I couldn’t understand why, it was also one that appeared to make him happy. At least, that was my reading of it.
One thing I do know for certain, and that is that the world is a much poorer place without my friend Vedran Kohut in it. I am so grateful for taking the chance to have engaged with this wonderful man and to have known him as a friend. He has enriched my life.
I last saw Vedran three weeks before his death. He told me he was leaving Evelyn with friends in Limerick who were going to take care of her. He looked more gaunt than usual and I just wanted to throw my arms around him and give him a hug. I’m sorry now that I didn’t.
I watched him walk up O’Connell Street on a Sunday afternoon and wondered when I would see him again and prayed he would be safe and well.
Vedran died tragically at 2.10pm on November 18 on the M50 in Dublin. He lived a life without a home, without rest and with constant turbulence.
As I look up to the heavens I hope my friend Vedran you are at peace at last.
But, having known him a little, I have no doubt he is already off on his next adventure.
