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In the eternity of time you are alive, Dusko Jovanovic. These years which passed are dead. The executioners who shut you are dead. The fear is killing slowly these who paid the killers to shoot those whom the death means nothing. Even when the journalists are the victims of the unspoken words, You will live. Those who are not afraid to search the truth will come to you! Let the freedom of media and honorable society without criminal be recognized in the columns of the newspaper that you edited. "Dan" remained the lighthouse!
When the journalists have dilemma how to write, let them look into your eyes. Those who have not courage can only bow their heads shamefully and glorify the killers. The red blood is the well known color of the free media. We are not silent. They are silent. In their silence, there are the spelling errors. We write the history of the journalism according your alphabet. Our laughter is pain. Our texts are edited through our hearts; our pencils are sharpened by memories of you. All of us in the redaction are big letters and because of that we are similar. And the "brave" cowards are afraid of us. We run up the hill and down the hill in the same way.
We are always the first on the goal together with you. This is your story. When the morning comes "Dan" is a necessity. With you the free and brave journalism has its own morning! We are yours, because you are ours, we take care of you by the bravery of our columns. Our headlines are bulletproof ramparts. Let them shoot. Neither we can hide nor can they kill us – elusive targets for the sinister bullets. We hide the seasons between the lines. The spring, the summer, the autumn and the winter are the same for us. Our roads are passable. You made our route. Following you, following you, following your steps!
We are not afraid of cliffs. "There is a peak", you were saying just Go ahead! Can you hear how our steps are firm? Here we are, where the silence does not grow, where the bullets explode, where the heart beats peacefully, without fear.
Dusko Jovanovic is here with us!

Redaction of the daily Dan

There are the people who are gifted by the God (or destiny) over the others. He makes them nice to see and to hear. He puts them on the right way, and gives them some special strength and speed to do more then others can. Those people are separated and recognized in every society. Among the happy peoples and in their countries they are numerous and each of them has a little personal burden. Among those which are not so happy, only now and then you can find someone gifted in such a way. Since there is no other way, he shoulders so much burden that before or after he has to kneel down under it and is not able to do what he wants the most. In Montenegro, the country which was surrounded by many inside and outside miseries, the things were even worse. Not only these human Titans were few, but when someone was on their way, the others did everything to hinder. They did everything to lower him in the sad everyday life among the rest who "were silent and who suffer" not even knowing why were doing that.
Dusko Jovanovic, wonderful Montenegrin man's head, with whom we are parting after the perfidious and cowardly assassination, was predicted to succeed and to be remembered. Every his job was successful; his thought was clear, determined and quick. Two apparent opposites were united in his personality. There was expressive sense for the tradition, for the belonging to his brotherhood, his tribe and his people, and on the other hand, he was a man of modern knowledge, in such a way, that the foreigners, who were disagreeing with him, respected his opinion and his works. He knew how to speak, to plan and to do the things. He knew how to learn, to listen and to respect the others. He was the prototype of the leader who should lead his country and his people into the European integrations. He was the real human precious stone among the half million citizens of Montenegro.

Momir Bulatovic

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Let this wound of Dusko Jovanovic be to all us, and particularly to the leaders of our country and our people, a warning that we are here, that we belong to the right side, the God’s side, which is the side of fraternal love, not fraternal hatred and fratricide. Let this wound heal all our wounds till now, let this wound be the wound of reconciliation, the wound of forgiving, leaving the hatred behind. Let this wound be the last bleeding wound which is done by the brother’s hand. Brother Dusko you were killed in the name of God and the God prepared the holly empire for you. Let God forgive your soul.

Dusko has gone. He was our friend and more than that. He was a professional and more than that. He was a good man and more than that. The evil night shut the “Day”, it wounded the word and the parent’s heart; it broke the brother’s wing; it froze the sister’s tear; it petrified the spousal tenderness.