From Deseret News archives:
Roots of murder: Shooter's kin remember 'ordinary kid'
As it was in 1988, Talovici is a typical rural Bosnian town. It is a cluster of homes hugging a steep hillside among forested mountains. A single utility line reaches here, strung on metal poles along the only road. Immediately uphill from the homes are corn fields. A Muslim cemetery skirts one field, and no fence separates the brown cut corn stalks from the scores of columnar grave markers.
The homes are made of cinder block, concrete, brick or stone sometimes two or three of these materials. Often they have brownish-orange terra-cotta tile roofs, like many houses in Bosnia. Tall conical haystacks bristle from the greening yards.
A dirt road runs the length of Talovici, and grass grows between its ruts. The road winds three miles from the nearest paved route, and driving it is a challenge. It jerks along steep switchbacks, is overhung in places with tree branches, and at one point passengers may have to jump out and help push their car.
On the day of Sulejman Talovic's funeral, March 2, buses that had carried relatives from other towns were parked below some of the worst curves. A couple of miles farther uphill, cars were pulled onto mud sidings throughout the village. Hundreds of men and women clustered on slanted lawns and in front of a large rebuilt home.
He says he had to move his son out of school in Salt Lake City because somebody attacked him, explained Nedim Hasic, a journalist from Sarajevo, the country's capital, who translated for the paper.
Talovici's residents are Muslims. Women wear scarves around their hair when outside; many middle age or older people are missing several teeth. In complexion and features, they look like typical eastern Europeans.
In the Muslim custom, people leave their shoes outside on the porch when entering a home. They respect the local imams, leaders of their religion. During the outdoor funeral, each of three imams wore a red fez with a long white linen strip wound around it.
Looking downhill from the road, you would see a pen built of slender logs and wire, housing shaggy, fat sheep. Another is home for a little flock of chickens.













