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| Ustinovskaya, Yekaterina |
| Óæå 22 ãîäà... |
| 24/10/24 13:38 more... |
| author Àíîíèì |
| Kurbatova, Christina |
|
Äåòêè Ìèëûå, õîðîøèå íàøè äåòêè!!! Òàê ïðîñòî íå äîëæíî áûòü, ýòî áîëüíî, ýòî íå÷åñòíî, ýòî óæàñíî. |
| 30/06/24 01:30 more... |
| author Îëüãà |
| Grishin, Alexey |
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Ïàìÿòè Àëåêñåÿ Äìèòðèåâè÷à Ãðèøèíà Ñâåòëàÿ ïàìÿòü ïðåêðàñíîìó ÷åëîâåêó! Ìû ðàáîòàëè â ÃÌÏÑ, òîãäà îí áûë ìîëîäûì íà÷àëüíèêîì îòäåëà ìåòàëëîâ, ïîäàþùèì áîëü... |
| 14/11/23 18:27 more... |
| author Áîíäàðåâà Þëèÿ |
| Panteleev, Denis |
| Âîò óæå è 21 ãîä , à áóäòî êàê â÷åðà !!!! |
| 26/10/23 12:11 more... |
| author Èðèíà |
| Ustinovskaya, Yekaterina |
| Ïîìíèì. |
| 24/10/23 17:44 more... |
| author Àíîíèì |
| A secret covered in ashes |
| Written by Ìîñêîâñêèé êîìñîìîëåö | ||||||||
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‘MK’ investigation: Unidentified remains from the Guryanov Street apartment building blast are still at the morgue 11 years later September 9th, 1999: the bombing of the apartment building on Guryanov Street. We have gotten used to thinking about Today is not even date. It is not even the same month, and there is no new information. So why have we decided to resurrect this forgotten topic? It is simple — a little while ago we got a phone call here at the ‘MK’ editorial offices: “People still remember The woman on the line never introduced herself. She simply hung up. She was used to no one playing attention to her words. It was her cry of despair. A cry, it seemed to her, in the wilderness. We tracked down the very same people who, after the blast on Guryanov, were unable to bury their loved ones. After 11 years of waiting, they finally agreed to tell us what they had kept silent about for so many years. Lyudmila Knutova: “The state never paid for DNA tests” It is the grave of 31-year old Sergei Knutov at the Rogozhskoe cemetery. There is a gravestone, wreaths, and a small fence, all the required attributes, but the earth empty. Knutov’s body was never given back to the earth. After the terrorist attack on Guryanov Street, the fellow was not among the living, nor the dead. A short line on his death certificate reads: ‘missing’. Eleven years have passed. “No one cared about us back then, and even less nowadays,” sighs Lyudmila Knutova, mother of Sergei. “For a few years I went from office to office, begging for help in at least finding the remains of my son, but in response I would hear: ‘You're really getting on our nerves! We’re not made out of rubber, how much more can we do?’” The events of September 1999 gradually disappeared from Moscow memories, like a boring composition in a school program: read once, and forgotten. Only those who lost loved ones in the terror attack remember that day. They remember even the minutest detail. They have not forgotten how just two weeks later, the destroyed building was demolished and just as quickly the scene of the tragedy was cleared away, along with the remains of the slain. People had still not been buried when a trench was dug at the site and stone was laid for a new facility. In the stony debris that remained after the blast, however, people found scraps of clothing, photographs, documents, and even human remains. At the “We thought we’d lay flowers, but there was nowhere to put them. The scene of the tragedy was behind a tall fence, and guarded. On the holidays we put up a Christmas tree, and lit candles and laid flowers nearby. Our tree stood for a few days, but then someone removed it.” By the anniversary of the bombing, construction of a new “We tearfully begged them to put in a little square, so that people could come back at any time to commemorate the dead. They didn’t listen. They only put up a little stele, which today nobody takes cares of. In the autumn the mud there is impassable. A small chapel was built nearby, but it’s only open on holidays.” Lyudmila has not come to the scene for 10 years. She does not keep in contact with any of her former neighbors from the bombed building on No. 19 Guryanov Street. Smashed to smithereens by common grief were “None of my old neighbors responded to my plight. My colleagues at the institute, where I worked for On the night of the blast, Knutova saw with her own eyes the body of her son, and so she quickly began preparing for a funeral: she bought a suit and ordered the coffin. But when she went to the morgue Sergei’s body was not there. She viewed the videotape of the blast site made by the Emergencies Ministry over and over again, and once again she identified her son among the dead bodies filmed on camera. They tried to persuade her that she had been incorrect, however, but how could a mother not recognize her own child? Now Lyudmila Knutova is disabled. Through the court system she fought for a stipend due to the loss of her breadwinner. She requested compensation for non-pecuniary damages, but the judge refused: “There are no such laws, and you are not the victim!” But her friend in adversity, Tamara Gorbyleva did not give up: she sued for a million rubles in damages. This amount was sought from the terrorists who were condemned to life in prison. But Lyudmila Knutova is still lucky in one respect: she got an apartment, though the worst of the bunch. While she was out searching for her son, all the decent housing was snatched up. Major repairs cost the woman a large sum, and she never managed to get any furniture from the state. “Many who lost children in the autumn of 1999 became disabled and died shortly thereafter. But nobody talks or writes about that. On the anniversary of terrorist attack, the journalists do a small scene from the blast site, and that’s about it. You know, I don’t need anything anymore. I’m tired…” My conversation with Lyudmila Knutova took place over the phone. She flatly refused to meet with me. “It doesn't matter, because you can’t change a thing,” said the woman in closing. Tamara Gorbyleva: “I wept myself blind” “On the eve of attack I dreamed of my late mother: ‘My little daughter, you just sent me a telegram that I’d be getting guests, but you didn’t give me their names’.” Tamara Gorbyleva buries her face in her hands. “Try not to believe in prophetic dreams after that. The bombing took my daughter Yuliya, my Tamara Dmitrievna (Gorbyleva) learned about the bombing of the apartment building on Guryanov Street from the evening news. “I ran outside, grabbed a taxi, and started to wail. I couldn’t even give the driver the address. He turned on the radio and it was full of endless reports about the attack. The taxi driver understood and nodded silently. I came to only when he stopped near the bombed house.” “This is Hell!” screamed Gorbyleva on seeing the destroyed building, but at the time the woman had no idea that a living hell for her was just beginning. “It was the first major terrorist act in Moscow, and we didn’t know what to do. We had no idea where to look for the bodies of our loved ones. There were no lists of the dead, and no one to help us. I was given a piece of paper with the addresses of six morgues: ‘Go look’. I didn’t even know if my children were dead or alive… And then I found out what Hell was! For a week I went around to all the city morgues. I’ll never forget the mountains of corpses! I didn’t find him. Then I was sent to Lianozovo cold storage, where they receive unidentified corpses. It’s a scary place. Rats the size of cats scurried around the building. At the front entrance a drunk greeted me: ‘Did you bring me a bottle?’ I told him: ‘My dear, here’s 500 rubles, enough for 5 bottles, just look for my children, a The next day Gorbyleva decided once again to go around to all the morgues. Could she have missed her daughter in her confusion, could she have been made a mistake? “Every morning I got ready to go to morgue, just as if I were going to work. I remember in some mortuaries I had to literally rake through bodies that had been dumped in a heap on the floor. I looked at the dead and prayed: ‘Lord, help me find the children’. Nine days later I identified Yuliya, and I felt better. I thought: ‘Here, I will bury my daughter and continue the search’.” The day after her daughter’s funeral, friends called up Tamara Dmitrievna (Gorbyleva): “Your grandson is alive! On TV they showed Emergency Ministries officers pulling him out.” “They were mistaken. It was not Artyom who was saved, but Dima Ageyev, a boy from next door. After some time I once again got word that they saw my grandson begging in the subway. And once again I had hope: perhaps he really was alive? Then I turned to the TV show ‘I am looking for you’ and showed a photograph of little Artyom. A woman called up and said she allegedly saw the boy at the ‘Sklif’ (Sklifosovsky medical institute in Moscow — ed). I rushed there, but they don’t even have a pediatric department. Later in the program they started getting calls from various people who claimed that he is alive. One man said he saw him get into a car and get driven away, another claimed to have seen the child in a reception center, and a third said that my grandson was at the train station with a sign that said: ‘I’m hungry’. And I continued to search for my grandson among the living… Looking for a long time, until I met a gypsy. He looked at my palm and said: ‘Tamara Dmitrievna, don’t look for the boy. Your loved ones were all lost’. I went home after this, and had a stroke.” Misfortunes never come alone. For more than six months, Tamara Dmitrievna did not recover. Her husband and disabled son supported her as best they could. “I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I was crying night and day. Handkerchiefs didn’t help. I cut a terry cloth towel into pieces, blotted my eyes and then wrung out the soaked piece of terry cloth. And one morning I woke up and I was blind. In medicine there is the term ‘to cry out the eyes’. So here I had cried them out. Now I can’t see out of my left eye, and only 10% out of my right. When I saw my sister after the tragedy, she was numb: ‘Tamusenka, you’re all white’. It turned out that I’d gone completely gray, but all the mirrors in my apartment were curtained (Orthodox mourning tradition — ed) so I didn’t see how much I’d changed.” Though blind, Tamara Dmitrievna did not lose hope: if she could not find a body, then at least she would try to find the remains of her grandson and “The results of the free DNA examination were a disappointment. They offered to repeat the procedure more thoroughly, but at my own expense. As I explained, the state didn’t allocate money for the complicated cellular test that gives more accurate results. I had 25 thousand rubles in the bank, but this wasn’t enough. I remember the medical examiner looked at me and said: ‘Get rid of your mink coat and do the DNA test, and there’ll still be enough for a marker’.” According to rumor, so far Lianozovo special storage facility still has those same 95 sets of human remains. As to why people lost their loved ones, Tamara Gorbyleva has a theory: “I talked with the investigator in charge of the case. He said that when he arrived at the scene of the bombing at 6 am, none of the bodies were numbered. They were all taken away in bags. At the number 11 and number 6 morgues they showed me some body parts that had no numbering. And more… The fact is, many were mistakenly buried. They even had to rebury some bodies. There were cases where people went to the morgue that allegedly rented apartments in our building, and they took bodies to get the funeral money. No one kept tabs on who actually lived in the apartments. The chief medical examiner clutched his head when one family identified the DNA of their child, and other people had buried him a long time ago. Such is life. But is it really possible to write about this? Also, no one has even talked about the looters who swooped down on the scene like locusts. They stripped the dead of earrings and cut chains… By the way, my daughter left behind a lot of jewelry. I didn’t pick it up and I told our prefect to take the gold to the bank to be assessed and I’ll give the money to children orphaned in the terror attack.” At Kuntsevo cemetery, Tamara Gorbyleva put up a small marker to her daughter, grandson, and “You know, I still can’t stand the thought that little Artyom is dead. I often see him in dreams, and according to popular belief people can only frequently dream about the living…” Anna Pakhomova: “We buried Papa symbolically, as did many others” Anna Pakhomova is the heroine of the television spots. At each new anniversary of the terror attack, reporters call her up. She never refuses to give interviews. “They ask me to talk a little bit about how it all happened, and who I had die,” begins Anna. “But for some reason, they never asked what I had to go through while I was looking for my dead parents. I found Mom quickly, but my father is still listed as missing. Nowadays people know how to act after a terrorist attack. Everything’s all worked out, but back then we were left to own devices. At the time we had to go looking for the bodies of our relatives in the morgues, while our neighbors who were fortunate enough to survive chose their new apartments and staged rallies.” The first shock Anna received was when she understood that her father was neither among the living, nor the dead. The man had just disappeared. “I still can’t understand, how could he disappear? My husband and I wrote to the city council, the prefecture, and city hall. We waited a long time for the results of the DNA tests. The fact is, only a year after the tragedy did the state provide a little money for this procedure, but the results of the test came back unexpectedly fast — in two weeks. It usually it takes at least six. My father’s remains weren’t detected, but I think that it was a form letter. The DNA tests were done carelessly, if even done at all. The results often didn’t coincide with reality. Some of the documents had phony forensics results that were even withdrawn, so we turned to the prosecutor’s office, but there I was once again shown a piece of paper with the DNA chemical formulas and the brief conclusion: not found.” For five years Anna looked for her father’s remains, and in the end… “We buried Papa symbolically, as did many others whose relatives ‘disappeared’. A carpenter made a little box in which we put some of father’s things, and the keys to the bombed apartment. I still can’t get a death certificate for my father. I only have a certificate from the police: ‘missing since September 9th, 1999’. Back then they didn’t use the phrase: ‘missing as a result of a terrorist attack’. Anna is still tormented by one question: why are only those who lost property recognized as victims? Those who lost relatives in the terror attack do not appear on any lists. “After the incident I was in a neurosis clinic. My husband back then appealed to the prefecture and asked for money for my treatment. He was told: ‘Your wife is not a victim and cannot be provided with free hospital treatment’. I was given a thousand dollars and 70 thousand rubles for the loss of my father's apartment, but we had to do some deception. When they were issuing out the warrants, my husband went to the council and said that we were the Runovs, my parents’ last name. We were issued a warrant for a tiny apartment. The council staff understood that we were lying, but didn’t say anything.” Long ago, Anna lost contact with all the former residents of the bombed apartment house. “Almost everyone who buried their loved ones died of grief. So did Tatiana Rozhkova, she didn’t hold out but a year and a half after the death of her Anna is one of the few who comes back every year to the scene of the tragedy. “Those who come here are only those who lost loved ones in the terrorist attack. Every year there are less and less of us. But those who got an apartment and live happily never come back to this damn place. Yet they often ask me if I know how the people living in the apartments at the site of the blast are doing. Yes, they live fine, though perhaps when we come back every September 9th and light our candles it bothers them a little. Maybe some of them sympathize with us, but no one can understand us. Once I couldn’t understand how someone could scream out of grief, but now I understand this better, because I know how the brain and all consciousness shuts down from the grief…” Of all the people who lost loved ones in the terrorist attack on Guryanov Street, only one woman did not go looking for her loved ones. Five from her family were killed in the bombing: her mother, daughter, husband, and two children. She never found anyone. After the incident she got religion into her head and now teaches at the Orthodox school in Pechatniki. Only once did she speak about the missing: “The remains are not the most important thing. The most important thing is that they went home to our Creator. They are now well.” Every year on September 9th she comes to a service in the small chapel that was put up opposite the blast site. She flatly refuses to speak with journalists. P. S. We got in touch with one of the employees of Morgue No. 4 at the Russian bureau of forensics, and asked for a comment on the situation: “Often, finding out to whom belongs one or another body part is impossible. After heavy fire, water, and other disasters, DNA is not preserved. These days the number arriving at the morgues in Moscow who are impossible to identify under any circumstances is about 15 percent.” Views: 4900 |
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