It was April 10. Pierre Sourgen had been tinkering all afternoon downstairs in his apartment. He had put down his tools and left. When he didn't come back, his wife thought he was talking with a neighbor. She was starting to find it long when the doorbell rang. He was a policeman. He wanted a photo of Pierre Sourgen. “Your husband is dead,” he told her after checking.
“My whole life ended with his,” testifies Sylvianne Sourgen, his widow supported by Me Stéphane Guitard, who came to the stand to “give him back a face and his humanity”. Because “after the horrors done to him”, she did not recognize him on the day of the funeral.
“He was a calm, gentle and sensitive man. Kind and humorous, concerned for the well-being of others and not looking for trouble. » They met in 1976, married in 1991 and shared passions such as sailing, cycling and hiking. They took care of Pierre Sourgen's old aunt.
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