Age — 39; Russia, Moscow

He was born on July 1^st, 1963 in the city of Pavlovsk in the Voronezh district.  After finishing the reclamation technical school he served in the border forces of the Soviet army.  After discharge he worked for the Ministry of Internal Affairs in Moscow in the sentry-patrol service.  In 1990 he graduated from the forest technical institute by correspondence.  Later he worked for the Moscow highway patrol.

Sasha and I met early in childhood.  I went to the village where he lived to visit my aunt, who lived next door to him.  I remember how Sasha and his friend tossed apples at me across the fence.

After my mother died, my father went to live with my aunt, and I came to visit them on holidays.  And so Sasha and I met again after 15 years, but this time there was no “apple war” going on between us, but an interest in one another.  Right after meeting him I thought that this fellow would be a very good husband – this is how dependable Sasha seemed to me.

I returned home, and he was drafted into the army.  We wrote to each other for almost two years, but later our writing broke off.  One day I knew that I wanted to find Sasha again, and so I sent him a postcard.  This postcard traveled after Sasha throughout the entire USSR, and found him, and our writing was renewed.

After the service Sasha returned home and invited me to visit.  I promised to come after my exams, and for a week he would meet the bus to his village, holding a bouquet of flowers, in hopes that I would come.

After I finished the institute, I was sent to work in the Chelyabinsk district, and he followed me there.  We were married.  For Sasha, family was the most important thing in life.  Liza was born, but she grew up a sickly child.  I remember during her illness how Sasha and I sat under the windows of the hospital.

Sasha worked for the police, and was rarely home, but he greatly enjoyed spending his free time with our children, and never raised his hand to them.  The children loved and respected him, and their father’s word was law.  Sasha had “golden hands” and could do a lot by himself, and he taught this to our son.  Together we built our dacha.

Sasha was sociable, friendly, and physically strong, but with a good sense of humor, and he loved and respected his parents.  We liked to spend time with our circle of friends.

His work was dangerous.  One day I asked him: is it easy to kill a person?  Sasha answered me: “It’s very difficult.  Sometimes a drunk comes at me with a knife, I could use my weapon in self-defense, but then I remember that he’s got parents, children, and that his death will bring them suffering, and so I don’t raise my hand.”

During those terrible days at ‘Nord-Ost’, Sasha was very quiet.  I remember everything he said.  I especially remember how on the second day Sasha told how half a year ago he had a dream where we were sitting in a theater, while all around us were frightening people in black masks.  Then I asked: “How did the dream end?”  He replied: “Everything was covered in fog…”

Written by his wife Tamara Starkova

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