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Gerasimov, Arkadiy
Written by родственники, друзья   
Суббота, 06 Ноябрь 2010

Age 23; Russia, Moscow.

Arkady attended college, and after graduation he attended the finance academy and worked as an economist for one of the government agencies.

His whole life he was surprisingly kind and good-natured, always trying to help those around him. From his college days and after graduation he would meet with boys from younger classes and go on outings and kayaking with them, and in the evenings they would tell stories in front of the campfire. Arkady’s friends and teachers say that it is difficult to overestimate his influence on the upbringing of these boys. At work he was valued as a conscientious and knowledgeable specialist, who after only a short time on the job was already promoted. It was his second time at ‘Nord-Ost’ — he only went again in order to show his favorite musical to his friends and teacher.

The loss of such a person and others no less significant to our country should not pass unnoted.

PS: They died because those who occupy government posts, those specific persons who are supposed to protect the lives, health, and freedom of the taxpayers — they have an unprofessional attitude toward their responsibilities. According to the laws of our nation, when a person who commits a crime, or is an accessory to a crime, or does not provide timely assistance to the victim of an accident or a crime, then he is supposed to be punished. BUT WHEN?

Written by his father, Andrei Gerasimov

From 2002 to 2003, those who taught and went to school with Arkady created an album, titled: “About our Arkady”. The following is but a fraction of the materials from that album, which is available in full on the website of Moscow School #1314.

***
1992. First time in 8th Grade

Together with my students, I crossed the threshold of the school for the first time. The students are so different!
 
Arkady immediately attracted my attention: small, disheveled, and with a charmingly good-natured smile, he could just not sit still. It turned out that this would be a problem, sitting through an entire ninety-minute session. And so we decided that whenever he got tired, we would go saunter up and down the hallway so that he could rest and be able to continue his class work. He would leave the classroom, make a couple of passes up and down the corridor, then return. It helped him concentrate. By the second half of the year he no longer needed these «promenades», and gradually he got used to the 1 & ½ hour lessons. But somehow I still remember.
 
He was miraculously able to succeed. Somehow, all at once, he was among the favorites, and even though it is definitely not pedagogic, I could not hide my sympathies. He aspired to be and participate everywhere. He was interested in everything, and most importantly he was not afraid to ask questions. He wanted to understand everything.
 
My favorite is Hare. When and why I called him that, I do not remember, but this appellation became for me, and for him, familiar and dear right away. And even in class he was called Hare. They say that nicknames are bad, that a person has a real name. Perhaps this is correct, but Hare did not offend Arkady. There was something “white and fluffy” in his attitude toward people, and this attracted them to him like a magnet.

1993. The first major act of an adult.
 
Have you ever tried at age 14 to explain to an adult teacher that they are wrong? And have you ever had the courage to do so on behalf of the entire class? Honestly, I would not have been able to do this. But Arkashka could! None of the brightest students resolved to do this, only he did, dear Hare, and for the first time I realized that this person would never betray you during a difficult moment, that he was ready to bear you up.
 
1994 to 1995

I remember many outings. A waterlogged summer and our first attempts at kayaks. The first failures, but a great desire to learn how to operate this boat! Even back then, on these outings, Arkashka’s most valuable quality was manifested: he would get up before anyone else and make a fire. Whoever's been camping knows how hard it is in the morning to climb out of a nice, warm sleeping bag, and leave the tent and go out onto the dew. And even more dear than the warmth that a fire brings is that, which a Friend brings you. Hare was always ready to share his warmth, by tossing his jacket onto your shoulders, or saying a few words at a difficult moment, or by just smiling.
 
1996. Senior year

I remember a feeling that I had nothing to do at work. If you do not count scribbling on paper, then as the class curator I did almost nothing. The boys were older, and they knew what to do and how to do it. They did not need a curator! And I distinctly remember how frightened I was at the thought that the day of leave-taking was coming, and that I would not see them anymore. They would be leaving.
 
In 11th Grade there was a free day when there was no class scheduled, but the guys came to visit me at my home and drank tea in my kitchen. That is where the real work took place, as I now understand. These Curatorial Fridays were scheduled far in advance. They would come in groups, or one by one, but always with some painful question. Hare was prepared to live in my kitchen on Perovo! He found everything interesting and important, but as always he would tactfully ask whether he was intruding if he came over to talk (especially if I was with someone). Then he would just come by later, if possible. And his first question was always: “Well, how are things? Do you need any help?”
 
The saddest holiday was graduation night. If someone is dear to you, then you are afraid of losing him or her. I do not know how it happened, but I was afraid to lose them all! They had become family. Even though (in my mind) I understood that they were starting a new stage in life, one no less interesting, and that they would have new friends and eventually move away, I still did not want them to leave!
 
All that summer, while they were taking their graduation exams, I was glued to the telephone, waiting for their scores and the results of their enrollments. I was particularly worried about the boys: they had military service hanging over their heads. But the summer ended and all 19 geniuses became college students, confirming their brilliance. It was the best gift for a curator.
 
August, at the Lefortovo Stadium

Irina Yevgenyevna and I are occupying ourselves with archery and do not expect to see anyone. Arkady suddenly appears, happily smiling and obviously plotting something. He solemnly announces that he is tired of the lack of a birthday for the Curator, and assigns it for today! On this occasion he gave me a gift — a charming little mouse with a heart, and he offers to celebrate this day. Two Irina's give a rapturous squeak, collect their things, and then Andrei drives up in his «Zaporozhets» to take us home. This is simply out of the realm of fantasy: we are all going in one group back to Perovo to put on a holiday! It was on August 20th, and ever since then I have a birthday that brings me joy, and this is only due to Hare.
 
August 31st, before the new school year

When the classroom was all tidied and mopped for September 1st, suddenly tears welled up in my eyes: tomorrow I will come to class and I will not see a smiling Hare? I do not know how this could be! I do not want this!
 
September 1st, 1996, 8:30 in the morning

Acidly I arrive at the school, giving everyone I meet a rubbery smile. I get to the 4th floor and walk into the classroom and there IN THE FRONT ROW SITS HARE SMILING WITH A HUGE BOUQUET OF FLOWERS!
 
He was able to give people holidays. He created them out of a regular day and with his pure heart so that they always turned out the bright and cheerful.
 
After High School

They are gone! They stayed with me, sharing their joys and sorrows. They helped me to grow the next class! These words refer especially to the beloved trinity: Arkady, Andrei and Kostya. Gradually they changed from graduates into my true friends. They were always with me in difficult moments, and it was impossible to separate one from the other: they were one, indivisible trinity. They complemented each other so that they seemed to be one organism. And if for some reason one of them was not there, his absence was acutely felt. It was hard on all of us while Kostya was in the army, and so his discharge was a holiday for all of us.
 
But each of them was an independent person.
 
Arkashka had an amazingly well developed ability to see things through another's eyes. I never had to tell him that things were going bad. He could see it even when I was trying to hide it from eyes. Somehow he would quietly appear beside me and do what was needed, and then just as quietly vanish, as if nothing had ever happened. You could trust him with the most sensitive requests, knowing that, intuitively, he would do everything that needed doing, and better than anyone else.
 
Hare became not just my friend, but a friend of my family as well. On those days when I was on duty on school and could not pick up Olga, after his studies at the institute he would pick her up at Kursk Street and take her home to Perovo. You have to agree that few would do this. And so he ended up with his own key to our apartment, and I was happy knowing that my daughter would be all right. If I needed to dig potatoes — Hare was ready to help. If I needed to pick apples — here too he was ready with a backpack and sacks.
 
One autumn when I thought up a traditional class camping trip for a couple of days in the Moscow region, I asked: “Who wants to go to the forest?” I heard a counter-question from Nastyushka: “Is Hare going? Then I’ll go, too!” We did not go camping because of the forest fires, but it turned out that Arkady was loved and dear to my class, despite the already significant difference in ages. He continued to be concerned with issues related to life in our school, and he wanted to maintain the school spirit he had cultivated. He hardly recognized that there was school spirit living in the people that worked there, but he was so thoroughly saturated that now this spirit lived within him. It was always warm and bright around him, and whenever Hare came to the school and walked down the hall smiling, many spirits were uplifted.
 
When we were sitting there at the Dubrovka Theater, it was not scary because we were together. Hare as always told jokes and tried to bear us up. It was obvious that everything was very serious, and I thought that if we were destined to finish our earthly journey here, then we would all leave life together. It was scary, but it is not in our power to argue with destiny. But if it all were to end well, then we would all get out of there, and remember it later as only a bad dream.
 
But fate decreed otherwise, just as I could never imagine in my very worst nightmare.
 
WHY?? FOR WHAT??
 
They told me at the monastery that he was the most worthy of us all, and so the Lord called him. And that we needed to examine our lives in order to be worthy as well, and that this nightmare was a sign unto us that we have still not done the most important thing that must be done in this life.
 
Written by Irina V. Chernina, school curator
 
***
 
I knew Hare for a long time, probably, as long as I can remember. He was always our friend, and only now do I realize that my mother would never trust just anyone to pick me up at kindergarten. I always liked that it was not just my mom or dad who came for me, like the other children. Dryusha, Hare, Shura (Sasha Ryabov) and Crocodile (Kostya) came for me with a car! There were sometimes other guys, but rarely. Crocodile was very serious. He was silent and at first I was afraid of him (after all, one just does not call someone a crocodile), but I liked him. I was never afraid of Hare. He was so good, so cheerful, and always saying something funny. I called them all 'dad'. And when the other children asked who were all those people who came for me, I explained that all of them were my dads! My friends tried to prove to me that a child cannot have so many dads, but I tried to convince them that they could! And Hare was the best. Always, whenever I saw Hare, he was smiling, and I felt happy, too, despite the fact that just 5 minutes before he came I was sad.
 
I remember one summer when my mother went out to Lefortovo with Irina, for archery practice. To be honest, I was bored with them. They were interesting, but I wanted to run away somewhere and my mom would not let me. When Hare came, I was very happy because now I knew that I would not be bored anymore. He told me funny stories and anecdotes, and time slipped by unnoticed. At the end of practice suddenly he asked if he could try archery, too. I was quite upset and thought that now he would forget all about me. But it was very fun. He was hilarious and commented on his feelings while stringing the bow, so much so that I laughed merrily. And then when we all went home, Hare proudly carried two bows on his shoulders, even though they were quite heavy. My mom called him her squire.
 
If other graduates came to see my mother, they all tended to talk to her, but only Hare would look in on me in my room, and at times he would even play with me. For my birthday grandfather gave me a big crocodile, and I named him Koska in honor of one of my dads, and happily I showed it off to anyone who came by. It was really a wonderful crocodile! When Arkady saw it, he was completely delighted! I so much liked the way he played with him and laughed, just as if he was little, like me. He opened its mouth and snapped its teeth and growled. It was not scary. On the contrary, it was very fun and interesting.
 
In October of 2002, when we went to see Nord-Ost in a big group, all our seats were in the same row. I decided to sit with Hare, because he was always a lot of fun. He had already seen the show and could explain whatever I did not understand. So it happened that my mother and I were on opposite ends of the group. The play was wonderful! There were such joyful songs and dances.
 
When at the beginning of the second act the shooting began, out of fear I clung to Arkady and clutched his arm. He hugged me and said: «Fear not, little bird. I'm with you. Everything will be all right.» But I was still scared, because I had never heard automatic fire before. So, hand in hand, we sat there until the terrorists announced that they were going to release the children. I did not want to leave, and I asked him: «Can I stay?» But he sent me to my mother. I snuck over to her and sat down on her knees and hugged her neck and said that I would not leave, that I was scared. But my mom said in a stern voice: «Go!» and literally pushed me away. When I was walking down to the stage I saw the women in black, and they had such scary eyes. We were led out of the auditorium in formation, and at this moment his words flashed into my head: “Fear not, little bird. I’m with you. Everything will be all right.”
 
We were led out into the street, but we were not given our jackets. It was cold, but I did not notice. Tears were rolling down my cheeks, and I was thinking about all those who were still in the auditorium. We were met by a policeman and put into a police van so that we would not freeze. Some children were crying. The older ones tried to calm and somehow assist the younger children. After some time the van door opened and into the opening popped the head of Vovka Khoteenkov. I went outside to him, and he asked me: "Who was there in the auditorium, besides Irina Chernina? I listed everyone. He told me that they would not let me go with him, because they were releasing the children only to their relatives. Then Vovka called up my dad and sent me back into the van so that I would not freeze. After some time, he again looked into the van and said that my dad was coming for me. Soon reporters with cameras arrived. One of them gave us a piece of paper and asked us to write down our names and surnames while another at this time was filming us. Then the driver came, got into the van, and drove us somewhere. He unloaded us at a school where we had to wait for out parents. Almost everyone's parents had already arrived, but my dad had still not come. Finally I saw him, and I was very happy. He hugged me and I burst into tears, because I thought about my mother and the guys who were still there. After that an investigator interrogated me, and then Irina Yevgenyevna and Kostya picked us up and drove us home.
 
At home we watched TV. To every command to go to bed, I answered that I could not sleep, but soon father sent me to bed anyway. The next day Katya (my best friend) and Sergei Leonidovich came to my home to visit. They told me that the whole school was worrying about my mom and the guys. Katya soothed me, and I told her how terrible it was there, and how Arkady said to me: “Fear not, little bird. I’m with you. Everything will be all right.” The next day instead of Katya, Sonia came over to bear me up, and she stayed overnight.
 
The next morning Sonia and I woke up because Sanya looked into our room and said: “The theater has been stormed!” We ran to the kitchen to watch the news on TV.
 
Then we rang up hospitals. We found mom first, and in my heart it felt a little easier. Then we found Andrei and I was almost relieved, confident that we would soon find Arkady. I remember how he told me: «Fear not, little bird. I'm with you. Everything will be all right.»
 
The next day my mother came home. I was very happy, but we were all focused on finding Arkasha. The boys would not leave the phone and they would always be calling someone and passing on information. The list of hospitals got shorter and shorter, but somehow we still could not find him.
 
For a long time I could not believe that he was no more. Even when they buried him, I could not believe that it was true. I thought that he was just sleeping, because he promised that everything would be all right.
 
This summer me they sent me and some other children who were at Nord-Ost on a trip to Greece. Arkady once told me how he had lived in Greece when he was little. He liked it a lot. And while I was there I often thought about him. I really wished he could be there with me. It would have been a lot of fun.
 
Written by Olga Chernina, 9th grader
 
***
 
My friend is sitting on the bench in class and swinging his legs. I do not know that his name is Arkady, or that his name will be Hare. He is my best friend, and all that I knew back then was that it was September 1st and we both had come to study at the school.
 
My friend is studying the map and looking at the compass. Our whole class is sitting in a swamp. This is our first outing, and the class monitor knows that we could have chosen an easier path, but Hare chose the route.
 
My friend is drawing. He draws men, monsters, and bunnies. It does not matter to him that this is a seminar on understanding the lectures of Gromyko. It does not matter, because no one understands them.
 
My friend is chopping firewood. He likes to chop wood. He does it for fun, to relax, to recharge, and to unwind. He does it to get warm and so that everyone can get warm. So that it will be cozy.
 
My friend sings. He sings loudly and with gusto. He can even sing the songs whose words I do not know. I love to sing with him.
 
My friend opens the champagne. He does not know how to do it, none of us know how to open champagne — we only know that the cork has to fly out, while the wine, if possible, stays in the bottle or a glass. We are graduates and this is graduation night and we are having fun.
 
My friend is fixing a car. We like to fix cars. We like to disassemble and reassemble various mechanisms, because, no matter what, we are boys. In our group there is no automobile that Hare could not fix.
 
My friend is packing his rucksack. He is going camping in a large group, in a small group, in the company of close friends, and sometimes alone. He loves to walk, or kayak, or drive, to just outside of Moscow, or to the Caucasus, or to Karelia. We are getting ready to go to the Altai on a catamaran.
 
My friend is drinking beer. Only with Hare do we get together to drink beer. Suddenly I realize that we have not seen each other in a while and that I have a free evening and I want to talk with him. He sits opposite me with a beer mug, and we are talking, talking about anything, about the weather, about cars, about camping, while in my heart there is warmth and calmness.
 
My friend is working. Well, to tell the truth, he is doing my work. Sometimes he comes to my job and helps me when I am stuck. He likes what I do, and in my heart this makes me proud.
 
My friend is laughing. He laughs easily, and joyfully. He finds jokes on the Internet and sends them to all his friends and relatives so that they too could have a good laugh. He finds a pretext for a joke even in the toughest of situations. I have seen him sad, and tired, but never does he lose his sense of humor. Sometimes I remember one of our outings: he is walking on freshly fallen snow, through thick branches, confidently and firmly. We are used to overcoming difficulties.
 
He has died, and I have nothing with which to counter this.
 
Written by Andrei Chulichkov, class of 1996.


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  Comments (4)
1. Памяти Аркадия Герасимова
Written by школа № 1314 "Проектный колледж website, on 06-11-2010 16:00
Я не верю, что Аркадий ушел от нас!
Он всегда был с нами, есть и будет!
Помню, когда Аркаша с ребятами своего класса водили нас в поход. Наш первый поход, тогда еще маленьких и ничего непонимающих восьмиклассников. Был он одет в военную форму с огромным,как мне тогда казалось, рюкзаком. Он шел такой
большой и уверенный впереди, вселяя в нас уверенность. В нас еще толком не знакомых друг с другом. Уверенности прибавлялось с каждым шагом этого большого человека! По дороге он подтолкнул заглохшую машину, шутя и весело, как умел только он! И я понял, что точно все будет здорово. Здорово и весело потому, что в его сердце хватит тепла и доброты на всех нас – и даже на незнакомых с ним, в тот момент, людей!
Его всегда было много. Много, как солнца летним днем! Его общество грело всех вокруг него. Мы грелись в его лучах! Где бы он не появился, всегда там появлялось веселье и чувство неподдельного счастья, смешанного с благодарностью судьбе за знакомство с таким солнцем как Аркадий! Мы как+то ездили на авиашоу. Так получилось, что в последний момент все отказались, и я ехал на место встречи с ощущениями испорченного праздника. Там под колонной я нашел Аркашу, читавшего книжку. Он сказал, что мы и так получим удовольствие и без кучи народу. Так и получилось… Мы провели совершенно незабываемый день, полный ярких эмоций и чувства разноцветного карнавала красок, которые были бы невозможны без этого человека, олицетворившего собой этот день!
Он очень хороший ДРУГ! Чтобы не случилось, он всегда примчится на помощь и сделает все, что от него зависит для решения проблем. Причем сделает это только с присущей ему иронией, задором и настоящим азартом. Так, что даже иногда кажется, что это именно его проблема, а ни чья бы то ни было! Так умеет только он.
Он дарил нам искорки своей гигантской души. Искорки себя нам, которые попадали
к нам в сердца и начинали прорастать деревом. Деревом благодарности от нас ему.

Владимир Хотеенков, выпускник 2000 года


Про Зайца
Я так долго собиралась… И вот теперь не знаю что написать… Как я могу писать в прошлом о человеке, который существует для меня до сих пор? Поэтому пусть простят меня все, кто считает, что я не права, я буду писать в настоящем!
Прежде всего, Аркадий для меня вовсе не Аркадий, а ЗАЯЦ! Он из тех людей, которые могут приехать в гости просто после звонка с вопросом: «А можно я приеду?». Как правило, я не вижу оснований сказать ему «нет», хотя в последнее время мы видимся редко.
Какой он, Заяц? Он умеет найти подход к любому человеку, любит делать подарки не по поводу, а просто так, потому что сегодня хорошая погода.
Не знаю, как рассказать о человеке вообще. Ведь это целый мир. Что мне вспоминается про Зайца?.. Он был первым выпускником в колледже, с которым я познакомилась 1 сентября. И, наверное, стал тем, кто связал 1 и 2 кураторские выпуски. Не знаю, был ли хотя бы один поход без него… Это как-то сложно представить… Но даже если такое случалось, полагаю, он был с нами всей душой.
Пытаюсь вспомнить какие-то конкретные случаи… Вспоминаются в основном смешные. Когда мы готовили Посвящение позапрошлому 11 классу, Заяц вылил на меня кипяток для «нудликов». Но вместо того, чтобы заплакать от боли, я начала смеяться как сумасшедшая. Мы посмеялись все вместе. А Заяц через некоторое время рассказал, что попробовал проделать тоже самое с другими людьми, но эффект не повторялся. Он расстроился, потому что думал, что нашел идеальный способ рассмешить человека.
Моя любимая походная история о том, как Заяц и Алла Алексеевна часа в три ночи искали в маленькой (3-х местной) палатке «Фестал». Сначала они разбудили меня, потом перевернули все вверх дном, а потом никак не могли уснуть, потому что таблетки стояли у них поперек горла.
А еще была такая песенка Ивасей немного переделанная, чтобы лучше соответствовала реальности: «Ах, Аркадий Андреевич в полосочку…»
Мне кажется, что у меня дома есть куча вещей так или иначе связанных с Зайцем. Они равномерно расползлись по всей квартире, и сейчас сложно сказать были ли они подарены или одолжены…
Не знаю как закончить, ведь истории можно рассказывать часами, а от того что я пытаюсь их напечатать, они теряют свою очарование…

P.S. Я знаю, что к стулу еще не прирос
И жизнью не загнан в занюханный угол
И бросить дела для меня не вопрос,
Вот только немножко со временем туго…

Наташа Васильева, выпускница 2000 года

Аркадий?
Сначала я не знала его лично. Но это такой человек, с которым не нужно знакомиться. Привыкать и что-то о нем узнавать. Я увидела его и не заметила, как это вышло, но как будто мы уже общались целую вечность.
Заяц, Солнце?
Ближе я узнала его уже позже. Уже после того, как он закончил учиться и нашел где работать. Он еще пришел тогда, такой солидный, в пиджаке, в пальто… Он теперь совсем как взрослый, работает. Я испугалась: вдруг с изменившимся стилем одежды он и сам поменялся? Но нет, он остался таким же, и таким его полюбили его сослуживцы, не смогли поменять его.
Аркаша?
Именно со мной он первый раз ходил на “Норд-Ост”. И нам так понравилось! Так красиво, такой замечательный вечер.
Как же было – потом – страшно… Как жутко.
Но мы прошли через это. Этого не может быть, ведь он всегда, всегда с нами. Очень многим людям он помогал, был готов сделать все, чтобы человеку стало лучше… Мы должны жить дальше, ведь он так хотел, чтобы у всех все было хорошо.
Вот уже, кажется, прошло все, но звонит Алена Нефедова и говорит, что ЧИВ нужна помощь. Тексты всех знакомых, и не совсем знакомых людей, куча фотографий, листочки с рукописными текстами, боже… Не думала, что будет так тяжело… Просидев в колледже с Женей Морозом полдня, мы не сделали и половины, а дома, когда одна… Все эти люди… Как же их много, как все они его любят!
Извините их и меня за возможные глупые ошибки. Тяжело писать. В сотый раз превозмогая желание заплакать, стараюсь улыбнуться. Ведь он так любил, когда люди вокруг улыбаются, и всегда улыбался сам.

Лена Краснова, выпускница 2000 года


Из альбома «Про нашего Аркадия», сделанного для мамы Аркадия в 2002–2003 г.г.

2. Благодарю за память и за действие
Written by Светлана Тетерина, on 26-10-2010 16:48
Вчера, 25 октября 2010 года, я имела счастье познакомиться со Светланой Губаревой. Она приехала в нашу московскую школу № 1314 за материалами о нашем выпускнике Аркадии Герасимове,- чтобы другие люди получше узнали нашего Аркашу, живого Аркашу.

И так — о каждом, прошедшем «Норд-Ост»…

Хочу сказать спасибо создателям сайта за дело, которое они делают. Это очень важно, что есть люди, умеющие сострадать и действовать. Умеющие хранить Память.
3. Arkady Gerasimov
Written by Moscow School #1314, on 01-04-2011 06:02
I cannot believe that Arkady is gone from us!

He was always with us, he is still here, and always will be!

I remember when ‘Arkasha’ with his classmates took us out on a fieldtrip. It was our first one, and we were still little 8th graders who did not understand a thing. He was wearing a military uniform with what seemed to me back then was a huge backpack. He was big and confident and out in front, and he gave us confidence. We still did not know each other very well, but this big man added confidence to our every step! Along the way he got the car started by pushing it, and he joked and made everything fun as only he could! I knew for sure that everything would be great. Great, and a lot of fun, because in his heart there was more than enough warmth and kindness for all, even for those whom for the moment he did not know!

He always seemed big, as big as the sun on a summer day! His presence warmed everyone around him, and we basked in his rays! Whenever he appeared, there was always a genuine sense of joy and happiness, mixed with gratitude for being able to meet a ‘sun’ such as Arkady! Once we were going to go to an air show, but at the last minute everyone else said they could not go, and so I went to the designated rendezvous with this feeling that the outing was ruined. There, underneath a column, I found Arkasha. He was reading a book. He said that we would both have more fun without a lot of people in the way, and that is how it turned out. We spent a quite memorable day full of bright emotions and feelings and a colorful carnival of colors. All of this would never have been possible that day without this person!

He is a very good FRIEND! Whatever was going on, he would always run over and help, and do everything he could to solve any problem, and he did so with his characteristic irony, enthusiasm, and a real passion. So much so that sometimes it seemed that it was really his problem, no matter whose it was! Only he knew how to do this.

He gave us sparks from his gigantic heart, and the sparks that fell into our hearts began to sprout like a tree: a tree of thanks from us to him.


Written by Vladimir Khoteenkov, class of 2000.

***

About Hare

I have been trying to do this for a while… And now I just do not know what to write… How can I write in the past tense about a person who still exists for me? Well, everyone who thinks that I am wrong can just forgive me, but I am going to write about him in the present tense!

First of all, for me Arkady is not Arkady, but HARE! He is kind of person who can come visit just after phoning and asking: “Can I come over?” As a rule, I see no reason to tell him no, though recently we have rarely seen each other.

What is ‘Hare’ like? He knows how to deal with anyone, and likes giving presents without occasion, simply because the weather today is nice.

I do not know how to describe him as a person at all. After all, he is an entire world. What reminds me of ‘Hare’? He was the first graduate I met on September 1st (at the start of classes ceremony), and he is probably the one who linked our classes. I cannot remember if we ever went on a single fieldtrip without him… It is somehow hard to imagine, but even if we did, I think he was with us in spirit.

I am trying to remember specific instances… I remember mostly funny things. When we were getting ready for 11th grade initiations, ‘Hare’ spilled water the noodle water on me, but instead of crying out in pain, I started laughing like crazy, and we laughed together. A while later, ‘Hare’ told me that he tried to do that to other people, but he never got the same result. He was upset, because he thought he had found the perfect way to make people laugh.

My favorite fieldtrip story was about how ‘Hare’ and Alla Alexeyeva at three in the morning were looking for her pills in our small 3-man tent. First, they woke me up, and then they turned everything upside down, later they could not get to sleep because the pills were right next to her the whole time.

Then there was that little ditty by ‘Ivasi’ (Ivashchenko & Vasiliev) that he slightly altered to better match reality: “Ach, Arkady Andreevich in stripes…”

It seems to me that my house has a bunch of things that are in one way or another connected with ‘Hare’. They are evenly spread about the entire apartment, but now it is difficult to say whether they were lent or donated.

I do not know how to finish this. I can tell these stories for hours, but when I try to write them down they lose their charm.

P.S.
I know that I am not rooted to my chair,
And that life has not driven me into a corner,
And it is out of the question that I drop this matter
But I am a little short of time…

Written by Natasha Vasilyeva, class of 2000.

***

Arkady?

At first I did not know him personally, but this is a man to whom you need no introduction. You just get used to him, and learn about him. I just saw him, and I have no idea how it happened, but somehow it was as if we had known each other for ages.

‘Hare’, ‘Sun’?

Later I got to know him better, after he had already finished school and found somewhere to work. He still came around, so solid looking in his jacket and coat. He was just like an adult, and working. I got scared: perhaps with his changed style he himself has changed? But no, he remained the same, and no matter how much his professional colleagues loved him, they could never change him.

‘Arkasha’?

He was with me when I went to see 'Nord-Ost' for the first time, and we liked it so much! It was so beautiful, and it was such a wonderful evening.

But then it got frightening… and disturbing.

But we got through it. It could not be any other way, since he is forever and he is with us forever. He helped so many people and was ready to do anything to make things better for someone… We must go on, because he would want that everyone was okay.

It already seemed that everything had passed, but then Alena Nefedova called and said that Irina Chernina needed help. All the writings of his friends and other people, a bunch of photos and pieces of paper with handwritten messages, my God… I never thought that it would be so hard. After sitting half the day with Yevgeny Moroz back at the school, we did not even get half of it done. So back home, alone… All these people… How can there be so many that all love him?

Please excuse me for any silly mistakes that I may have possibly made. It is hard to write. For the hundredth time I struggle with this desire to cry, but I try to smile. After all, he loved it so much when people around him smiled, and he was always smiling himself.

Written by Lena Krasnova, class of 2000.
4. Written by Вячеслав website, on 25-10-2017 17:46
Аркаша, мы тебя помним. Светлая память Солнечный Человек!

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