Age - 39; Ukraine, Odessa

Grigory Burban is my father. Both of us loved each other very much. Every summer we would go on vacation. The days we spend together were the most wonderful ones.

My Dad wanted me to get a good education and be a good specialist in computer science. He was very happy and proud when I won two times in a row the Los Angeles Science Fair. He wanted me to grow up strong and healthy, practice swimming and tennis. We loved to play tennis together. Whenever I had problems he always helped me. Even though he was usually busy on business trips he still made time to come to my birthdays. Those days were very special in our home. He promised to come to my next birthday, but now I know that he will never come. I lost my Dad and my friend.


Written by David G. Burban, son.

Our son followed the principle of “hurry to do something nice”; it was his norm in life, business, and hobbies.  He did not know how to say ‘no’.  When people asked him for help, he said, “I’ll try,” and as a rule he did help.

One more thing: he was certain that one could agree always agree and about everything, and he considered this to be the most dependable way to achieve a goal: “There’s nothing you can’t agree on, you just have to know how, and want to do it”.  And Grisha knew how, possibly because he was equally comfortable and home and overseas.  He always brought home a mass of new ideas and friends from every trip.

Unfortunately, the Russian authorities had different ideas about values and priorities, and chose a violent means to rescue the hostages at Dubrovka.  The negotiators were replaced by special forces, the negotiations with a ‘harmless’ gas, and so our son and another 129 hostages paid for “the authority of Russia in the international arena” with their lives.

In 2003, shortly after the tragedy, we received a letter: “I have written a poem about your son from the materials posted on the www.nordostjustice.org web site.  I am sending this to you.  I hope that it is close to whom he really was.”

Back then we were still in shock from our grief, and never really thanked to the author who was able to describe our son in a few verses, to tell about his indomitable energy and desire to help others.  Now we would like to give thanks, and a low bow, to the author.  Excuse us, but, as they say, better late than never.

Written by Luba and Mark Burban, his parents.

Comments (2)

1. ÎÄÅÑÑÊÎÅ ÝÕÎ ÌÎÑÊÎÂÑÊÎÉ ÒÐÀÃÅÄÈÈ Written by Åâðåéñêàÿ Óêðàèíà , on 30-04-2007 10:51 Ãðèãîðèé Áóðáàí âîçãëàâëÿë â Îäåññå îäíó èç êðóïíûõ òîðãîâûõ ôèðì - êîðïîðàöèþ "Àëãðè".     ýòè äíè îôèñ êîìïàíèè "Àëãðè" íàïîëíåí ïå÷àëüþ è ñêîðáüþ. Ó ïîðòðåòà Ãðèãîðèÿ Áóðáàíà ìíîãèå ñîòðóäíèêè íå ìîãëè ñäåðæàòü ñëåç. Âñïîìèíàëè íåîáûêíîâåííóþ äîáðîòó, ÷óòêîñòü è òàêò ñâîåãî äèðåêòîðà. Îí ïðèõîäèë íà ïîìîùü âñåì ëþäÿì, êàêèå áû äîëæíîñòè â ôèðìå îíè íè çàíèìàëè, åñëè ñ íèìè ñëó÷àëàñü áåäà. Ó îäíîé èç ñîòðóäíèö óìåð îòåö - è Ãðèãîðèé Ìàðêîâè÷ ñðàçó ïðåäëîæèë äåíüãè íà äîðîãó è ïîõîðîíû. Òðàãåäèÿ ëèøèëà ïàðíÿ îòöà - è ñíîâà ðÿäîì çàáîòëèâûé ðóêîâîäèòåëü. Ìàøèíà ìîëîäîé ñîòðóäíèöû ïîïàäàåò â àâàðèþ, ðàçáèâàåòñÿ, òðåáóþòñÿ íåìàëûå äåíüãè, à åùå ïîíèìàíèå â ÃÀÈ - õëîïîòû áåðåò íà ñåáÿ Ãðèãîðèé Áóðáàí. Îí ñïåøèë â ýòîé æèçíè äåëàòü äîáðî...     Ñîòðóäíèêè, òå, êòî äàâíî çíàë Ãðèãîðèÿ Áóðáàíà, ïîä÷åðêèâàþò, ÷òî â åãî îòíîøåíèÿõ ñ äðóãèìè ïðèñóòñòâîâàëà ðåäêàÿ äëÿ íàøåãî òðåâîæíîãî è ðàñ÷åòëèâîãî âðåìåíè áåñêîðûñòíîñòü.     15 ôåâðàëÿ 2003 ãîäà åìó áû èñïîëíèëîñü âñåãî ñîðîê ëåò. Íî îí óñïåë ñäåëàòü íåìàëî. Ãðèãîðèé Áóðáàí âûâåë êîðïîðàöèþ "Àëãðè" â ÷èñëî óñïåøíûõ ïðåäïðèÿòèé Îäåññû. Íåèçìåííî çíà÷èòåëüíûì áûë è âêëàä ôèðìû â ãîðîäñêîé áþäæåò, ùåäðîé - áëàãîòâîðèòåëüíàÿ ïîääåðæêà. Ãðèãîðèé Ìàðêîâè÷ áûë àêòèâíûì ÷ëåíîì Îäåññêîé èóäåéñêîé ðåëèãèîçíîé îáùèíû Õàáàä "Øîìðåé Øàáîñ", îõîòíî äåëàë ïîæåðòâîâàíèÿ íà åå äåÿòåëüíîñòü.     Åâðåéñêàÿ îáùèíà ãëóáîêî ñêîðáèò âìåñòå ñî âñåìè, êòî çíàë Ãðèãîðèÿ Ìàðêîâè÷à Áóðáàíà. Report

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