BENSONHURST — A Diocese of Brooklyn parishioner remembered for his quiet generosity and deep faith was senselessly killed in a random attack after what those who knew him say began as an act of kindness. 

Nicola Tanzi, 64, of Bensonhurst, was beaten near the entrance of the Jay Street–MetroTech subway station on the afternoon of Oct. 7, according to an NYPD report. 

Officers found him unconscious and unresponsive with trauma throughout his body. He was taken to New York-Presbyterian Brooklyn Methodist Hospital, where he was later pronounced dead. 

The next day, police arrested 25-year-old David Mazariegos, charging him with two counts of murder, one count of robbery, and one count of grand larceny. 

The fatal assault began moments after Tanzi held a door open for the suspect, The New York Post reported — a simple gesture of courtesy that friends say perfectly reflected who he was. 

Tanzi worked as a security guard in Downtown Brooklyn, near the subway station where the attack occurred. Friends said he planned to retire soon and spend more time volunteering at his parish and helping others, as he often did. 

His funeral Mass will be held at St. Dominic Church in Bensonhurst on Oct. 18 at 9:45 a.m. Tanzi was a parishioner of St. Athanasius-St. Dominic Parish in Bensonhurst, where he also worked as an usher. 

Deacon Anthony Mammoliti, pastoral associate at the parish, said Tanzi would regularly attend Mass at St. Dominic with a smile, remembered by all as someone they could count on when they needed a hand. 

“He would open the doors for the ladies, and he would say, ‘Buongiorno, come stai?’ He was a little bit to himself, but once he let you in, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you,” Mammoliti said. “Mr. Tanzi lived his faith right to the very last moment. What was his last act on this earth? An act of kindness, a symbol for all of us to emulate. 

“That’s what makes this moment of his death that much more hurtful for us.”  

Upon hearing about his passing, longtime parishioner Caterina Lionetti said the news brought tears to her eyes. 

“I just saw him this past Sunday. He was all dressed up, and he looked so nice,” she said. “I feel so bad. We pray for him, and we say the rosary.” 

Gesturing to the now-empty middle pew where Tanzi used to sit during Italian Mass, parishioner Grace Lugara recalled running into him on the street recently, where he began to speak to her in a Barese dialect. Although she could not understand most of what he was saying, his kind and warm presence was apparent, she said.  

“When I heard the news, I thought, ‘Is the world coming to this? A person loses his life for what reason?’ ” she said. “It really hurt me. It saddened the whole community. Everybody’s crying about it. I’m sure God Almighty is going to have pity on him and give him eternal rest.” 

Born and raised in Brooklyn, Tanzi grew up in Carroll Gardens with his parents and five brothers. His parents immigrated to Brooklyn from their native Mola di Bari, Italy, and like many from that region, began worshiping at Sacred Hearts & St. Stephen Church. 

The family was part of the founding members of the parish’s congregation of Maria SS. Addolorata, dedicated to Our Lady of Sorrows. 

The group, now a fixture of the parish for over 75 years, commissioned a replica of their hometown’s patron statue when they arrived in Brooklyn and continues to honor her with processions each Good Friday and on her feast day in September. 

Deacon John Heyer said Tanzi remained deeply devoted to keeping the tradition alive — not only for cultural reasons, but for his faith. 

“He was an ordinary guy who was always there to help, to participate. He didn’t want attention or to be a leader,” he said. “He would take on the biggest task or the smallest, quietest one. That’s really important when you’re organizing celebrations in a parish.” 

Tanzi’s attacker reportedly had several prior arrests, according to reports. 

Both Deacon Mammoliti and Deacon Heyer say that had he survived, Tanzi would have forgiven his assailant. 

“He was the kind of person who would have tried to understand why this person was doing this, help him through it, and forgive him in the process,” Deacon Heyer said. “But forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting justice. I think he would have wanted to see him brought to justice to make sure others aren’t victimized in the same way.”