Victor Formosa writes:

It took me a while to get this going because I cannot yet reconcile myself to the fact that the ‘surmast tal-Mosta’ is no longer with us. The surmast Mosti, none other than Mro Victor Zammit, has been an acquaintance and then a dear friend of mine since the early 1960s, when I worked at the Water Works Department on Ordnance Street in Valletta and he was at the Public Works Department just round the corner. We used to bump into each other on Strada Rjali during breaks.

In 1990, when my family and I returned to Malta at the end of a 13-year experience in Canada, we decided to make Mosta our new hometown, and that’s when and where the real friendship started. Meeting him over an espresso − for him it was always tea− it was always a tutorial on gentlemanly behaviours and attitudes, as well as a flashback to the past.

His being a band master at the Nicolò Isouard band club in Mosta, and not only, we struck a chord because before and after our Canada sojourn; I was president for some time of the Soċjetà Mużikali San Ġorġ Martri in Qormi. He was also into song-writing and, because of my work at the Broadcasting Authority and the early 1970s venturing into the Eurovision Song Contest, we did have a lot of contact.

But for a number of years, with the exception of the COVID-ridden 2020, we spent great summers at the Sirens pool in St Paul’s Bay. He was there every day and we didn’t need to look at the clock because it would always be noon. He would stay till 1.30pm, have a shower and go back to Mosta where he lived with his sister on Constitution Street.

Victor did not touch alcohol in any shape or form and neither did he smoke. When not at Sirens, we used to meet at Mellows in Mosta, and that is where I met him for the last time before he tested positive for the COVID virus and died at Mater Dei only a few days later at the venerable age of 93.

Victor was the first cousin of Cardinal Prospero Grech and very proudly so, of course. The normal start for a conversation with him would be about a phone call from the cardinal or other goings-on.  

The Rotunda square is going to miss its surmast who used to fill it with his presence every day from 10.30am onwards. He would get his copy of The Times on his way to Mellows, then drop by at his beloved band club and then for a short stop at the barber shop right in front of the lion monument on the roundabout. He is also surely missed at the 6.30pm Mass at the basilica.

Is-surmast is no more but his memories will last forever. As a true gentleman that he was, he will never fade away. My condolences to his family of which he was so proud. Rest in peace dear friend and thank you for making my life a bit better with your genuine friendship.