Age 53; Russia, Kubinka.

On April 13^th, 1949, Lubov Nikolaevna Ivanova was born in the village of Kubinka in the Odintsovsky region of the Moscow district.  Her father, Nikolai Vasilyevich Ivanov, was a peasant, and her mother, Anna Matveevna Ivanovna, was a housewife.

She attended Kubinka Railroad School #129 from 1956 to 1966.  From 1967 to 1984 she worked at various times as warehouseman, senior storekeeper, and economist for the all-union office of Transtorgsnab (trans trade supply). 

From April 2^nd, 1984 to her death, L.N. Ivanova worked at the material and technical supply service for the Moscow Metro as a materials economist.

In 1987 she graduated with honorable mention from the correspondence course of the all-union railroad transport technical school.  Her specialty was bookkeeping.  Lubov Nikolaevna came to our department in 1987.  She had worked on the railroad before this.

Thus was her life, that Luba never met a real man, and so all her activity was directed towards work.  She worked in providing the Moscow Metro with fuels and lubricants.

Luba had a good, friendly relationship with her coworkers in the department.  Though her character was a times a bit explosive, she was easily appeased.  She was very serious about work, thoughtful, and purposeful.  She could not stop halfway into a project – Luba went all the way, and, as a rule, attained the desired result when necessary.  But then, you would not recognize her after the job was done: she became merry, sociable, and always interested in trying something new.  She visited museums, exhibitions, and traveled a lot (times were good in the Soviet days!).

Luba loved the theater very much.  The whole year we had been preparing to see the ‘Nord-Ost’ show.  She wanted to see the “real” airplane in the theater, but we never did.  We were offered tickets for October 22^nd, but Luba had an appointment at the hairdresser’s and would not miss this – and this was pure Ivanova.  If she promised to meet someone or had an appointment somewhere, nothing could make her change her mind.  Sometimes I think that this trait of hers played an evil trick on her: we became hostages.

I was very worried, knowing her character, but Luba behaved very careful, stable and without hysterics.  This was not easy for her.  I have to say that the people we sat with on the lower balcony during those three terrible days acted very courageously, without any hysterics.

Luba loved life very much, and she spoke about this on the morning of October 26^th, 2002, before the assault that we knew nothing about.  We talked and cried, and bid each other farewell, thinking that it was the end…

When our colleagues found out that we were stuck at Dubrovka, they were very worried: they stayed glued to their televisions and phoned all the hospitals and morgues.  For some reason they were more worried about Luba than me, because she had problems with her naso-pharynx.

I was luckier than Luba.  Once again I understood that we all go under God, and to each is prepared that which will happen, and our fates are predetermined.

 
Written by her friend and colleague, V.V. Konchenkova.

Luba was born into a hard working, hospitable, peasant family.  This is why, when she was working, she gave it her all, and, if she was at a celebration, it was a huge feast.  She truly had an immense Russian soul!

Lubasha was the youngest of five children, the baby of the family.  Everyone spoiled her, of course.  Luba’s mother had her at 44, and between Nadezhda, her oldest sister, and Luba were almost twenty years difference.  It turned out that Nadezhda and Lubasha never got married.  They were both loners.  They were good friends, and cared for each other and the whole family.

Luba tried to do everything “like you’re supposed to”: she got good grades and worked honestly.  If she wanted something, then she strived to get it.  She loved to travel.

We searched for her among the living, but found her in the morgue.  She was interred back at her homeland, in the Kubinka cemetery in the Moscow district.

Written by her sisters, Nadezhda and Tatiana.

Luba… Lubasha…  That’s what we called her.  Ëþáà...  I still cannot believe that she is not with us.  She was so remarkable, and a bit whimsical.  When Lubasha comes to me in my dreams, I ask her: “Are you back?  Are you with us?”  I wake up and I cannot understand what it happened.

She was like a second mother to me: caring, cheerful, and understanding.

Why did you leave us so early?  We will never forget you.

Shining memory…  Eternal memory…

Written by her niece, Olga Rusanova.

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