Oprișan “gave of himself all that was most precious to him, the love and kindness that filled his soul”

Due to the increasing number of patients and the overcrowding of the infirmary, I was transferred to the TB ward in the old cell, also called ‘Zarca Gherlei’. The conditions here were better, with small cells of two beds; we could find the peace and quiet we so desperately needed.

Here I found some students who had passed through Pitești, who had come out of the terror of the demolitions and were publicly discussing the crimes committed during the debunkings. The first to come to see me was N. Cojocaru from Bacău, who had just come out of re-education. He told me that Costache Oprișan was in the next cell and that he was very ill. The next day I went to see him myself and was deeply impressed both by his pitiful condition and by the warmth with which anyone who came to see him was greeted. Ioniță Sârbu and Sergiu Mandinescu were also admitted at that time as very seriously ill.

I remember how much Mandinescu suffered from what happened during the debunkings of Pitești. He wanted to die more and more. He would sit for hours in front of the open window in his shirt, regardless of the cold outside, although he was aware of the seriousness of his illness. He stubbornly refused to get dressed, saying it was the only way God would forgive his mistakes. Soon after, he was transferred from Gherla to Craiova, where we lost track of him. Unlike Sergiu Mandinescu, Costache Oprișan was resigned, able to endure whatever fate would bring him, eager to give everyone what was most precious to him, the love and kindness that filled his soul. For us, he was like a beacon that lit our way out of the darkness in which we were struggling, after the dark days we had lived in the Pitești prison.

In him we found the moral support to face all the hardships that came our way, and his words had the gift of strengthening our souls and giving us new strength. Although he couldn’t get out of bed, he was never alone. You went to him as you would go to a spring to quench your thirst, and when you left you felt calmer, lighter and more confident. I don’t know, and I don’t think there was anyone who was considered re-educated, even to the core, who ended up in the infirmary and, meeting Costache Oprișan and talking to him, didn’t wake up from the state of intoxication in which he had been put and return to normality. In spite of his particularly serious illness, he never hesitated for a moment to speak to those who visited him, encouraging and urging them to seek peace through meditation and prayer.

(Neculai Popa – Descent into Hell. The Pitești Phenomenon)