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Age 64, from Belgorod, Russia  She was born in Moscow in 1937 and graduated by the Sechenov Medical Institute in Moscow. In 1960 she moved to Belgorod together with her husband, Josef Grigorevich Kogos, a new graduate of the Moscow Institute of Transportation Technology. The entire work life of A. Y. Kogos was connected with a single enterprise – the Belgorod Citric Acid Factory (later Citrobel, Inc.), where for 40 years, right up until the tragic events of 2002, was in charge of one of the main production facilities. Alla Yakovlevna’s high levels of professionalism, competence, and responsibility were noted through many awards, including medals from the government, such as the Work Achievement and Veteran of Labor awards. She was an experienced and proficient specialist in her field, a person with a wide horizon and multiple interests. She distinguished herself through her education, intelligence, culture, and the way she handled others with respect. I was always proud that mother was a Muscovite, despite living in Belgorod for more than forty years. Moscow, with its unique society and culture had formed her on the inside, giving her its inexhaustible interest in life in all its manifestations. Remaining in Moscow were the people who were the closest to her — her mother, and her brother with his wife and two nephews, as well as many relatives and friends. Because of this invisible thread, mother used every chance to get together with them, and, of course, with her dear city, from which, it seemed, she inspired her special strengths in life. Mother was a production worker, a chemical engineer, but in this case had a feel and understanding for art. She loved the theater, almost able to professionally distinguish the finest nuances of the stage. She read a lot, and through some surprising manner, despite her other duties, she always knew what was going on in our country and abroad, in the world in general. Mother was very musical in nature (I am grateful that I inherited this trait!), but she never sang loudly, as they do around the table, but scarcely audible, when busy with other things. Together with father, she appointed their apartment comfortably. It will always remain in my memory as the only place on earth that I felt fully protected. Mother was a reserved person, quietly and confidently reaching decisions, and this confidence infected whoever was nearby. I do not remember her ever fussing or being weak at any moment. When father died, she asked that he be left at their house for the night, and she sat up and spoke to whom until morning about everything that could not fit into their long years together. Mother was very charming, beautiful, and preserved attractiveness independent of age until the very end. I never saw her hurriedly dressed. She always took care in clothing herself. Through the years she managed to keep the feel of the modern. She knew how to talk as equals with my contemporaries and me. We frequently celebrated my birthdays together in nature, and recall those out of town trips in May as the happiest moments of my life. Mother became a grandmother relatively late in life, and the birth of her long-awaited grandson Konstantin, named for my father, became for her a moment in destiny. New plans for life, dreams, and hopes were connected with it. Life went by, and many happy things occurred. ‘Kostik’ was a great student, active in sports, and our next dream became Moscow. We hoped when ‘Kostya’ would enter one of the capital’s colleges, that grandma would return to Moscow and live with him. How interesting and happy we pictured the new future to be! But mother was not destined to celebrate her grandson’s victories in prestigious mathematical Olympics, or see ‘Kostya’ on his graduation night, or experience pride at his gold medal and successful acceptance into the Moscow Institute of Physics, one of the hardest colleges in the country. They missed a lot of joys together. During those fateful events there was a lot that was almost mystical. When mother was in Moscow, they found a dead bird on her office windowsill. Even now, I recall with tightness in my chest the evening before the calamity, when due to some confluence of circumstances our whole family had gathered at the home of ‘Misha’, mother’s brother Mikhail. I was to fly to Germany on business, and so we had an unplanned get together, as if a heavenly power had wished us give us a chance to be together one last time. It was such a remarkable domestic holiday! Oh, how warm and happy we were together! Adding to the joy was mother’s nephew ‘Yasha’, who had two tickets to the famous musical ‘Nord-Ost’, which mother planned to see with him. If we could only have known that this unexpected joy were to turn into such an irreplaceable loss… I found out about the events at Dubrovka when I called Mikhail in Moscow. He said: “Terrorists took hostages during the show. Alexei and Mama are there.” I understood that misfortune had arrived. Returning from Germany, I immediately went to where the relatives of the hostages were gathering. There were hundreds just like us, lost, suffering, and praying. We hung on every word and whatever information we could get. The first lists breathed hope into us, which was justified – Alexei was alive! But mother’s name was not on that, or any other list, and never did turn up… We did not wish to reconcile ourselves to the terrible thought even then, when together with the families of other hostages; we were invited to identify the missing from photographs.
We had no strength left to cry. It was simply that one life had ended, and another began – without mother.
Written by her son, Gregory Kogos
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1. Из книги «Мимолетные встречи»
Written by Леля Хайкина, on 07-12-2008 06:36
Аллочка из Белгорода
Несколько раз в году в нашей московской квартире раздавался какой-то необычно-нетерпеливый звонок, и в дверь торопливо почти вбегала радостная, с улыбкой на красивом лице Аллочка Когос.
Это подруга Милы еще со школьных лет. Жили мы тогда в соседних домах, девочки дружили, росли вместе, взрослели, и расстаться им пришлось только тогда, когда Аллочка вышла замуж и уехала к мужу в Белгород.
Но ее всегда тянуло в Москву. Здесь жила ее мама, ее брат с семьей. И Мила.
— Такой подруги как ты, Милочка,— говорила Алла,— у меня в Белгороде нет и не будет… И нет у нас таких театров, как в Москве,— сожалела она.
Но со временем Белгород становился ей все ближе. Она пользовалась авторитетом на заводе — ее уважали, как дельного инженера. В этом городе у нее вырос сын, обзавелся семьей, подарил ей внука, и молодая бабушка не скрывала своей восторженной любви к малышу.
Все было хорошо и ладилось в ее семье. В какую-то свою круглую дату Аллочка устроила пышный прием, потому что пригласила самых дорогих гостей из Москвы — свою маму, Милу, тетю, и они все приехали, осчастливив именинницу своим присутствием. Да и гости были рады встрече, приему, уютной квартире, сияющей, нарядной, красивой хозяйке. Муж Аллочки тоже всячески подчеркивал радость от приема.
Но жизнь не всегда состоит из одних праздников. Грянула беда. Обширный инфаркт — и Костя, муж Аллочки, на несколько лет, своих последних лет, остался инвалидом.
Тяжелое это было время. Но и тогда, оставляя мужа на попечении невестки, Аллочка вырывалась в Москву к матери. И даже в эти короткие наезды обязательно раздавался ее звонок и в нашу квартиру.
…Смерть мужа Аллочка переносила тяжело, но мужественно. Она еще больше загружала себя работой, много времени проводила с внуком, а главное — на все праздничные дни и в отпуск всегда приезжала в Москву.
Мне надо было еще вначале, знакомя читателя с Аллочкой, сказать о ее исключительной любви к театру. Появляясь в Москве, она первым делом расспрашивала Милу о стоящих премьерах, и ее сумочка неизменно заполнялась театральными билетами. Часто подруги ходили в театр вместе, но наш отъезд лишил ее такой партнерши, а главное — общения с таким другом, каким была для нее Мила. Аллочка очень скучала и часто звонила моей старшей дочери в Уфу, чтобы разузнать о нашей жизни на новом месте, жаловалась, что тоскует, да и нам было грустно от таких далеких приветов.
…Незаметно отсчитывалось время. Менялась жизнь. Менялся мир. Гремели взрывы в Израиле, в московском метро. Потрясло всю планету злодеяние в Нью-Йорке 11 сентября. Но такого, чтобы террористы захватили сотни мирных зрителей в московском театре на Дубровке, где шел нашумевший мюзикл «Норд-Ост»,— такого невообразимого зверства мир еще не знал.
Мы здесь, в Америке, слезно переживали за своих земляков в Москве. Какое же горе свалилось на семьи тех, чьи родные были в тот вечер в театре на Дубровке и не вернулись домой…
24 ноября 2002 года Мила позвонила в Белгород, чтобы поздравить подругу с днем рождения. Но дома ее не застала. И решив, что она в Москве, позвонила брату.
…И тут из другой комнаты я услышала жуткий крик и рыдания Милы: она узнала, что в той страшной трагедии в театре на Дубровке среди 130 погибших от газа зрителей была и ее любимая подруга, наша Аллочка Когос из Белгорода.
…Весь Белгород хоронил Аллочку. А мы здесь до сих пор не можем поверить, что нет уже на Земле этой милой женщины, нашего доброго, хорошего друга.
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