I walked down the hallway of “Komsomolskaya Pravda”, not noticing anything around. Suddenly someone took me by the elbow and leaned against the wall. I woke up. There stood Vasily Mikhaylovich Peskov. In his traditional hat, the green jacket. He continued to hold me by the elbow, carefully looked into her eyes and spoke quickly, slightly hoarse voice: “Yuri, I know you’re grieving. Well, my dear, there is nothing you can do about it. Tell me, how much money you need, I will.” I thanked him as best I could. In the native newspaper, he was the first who offered to help me.
Krasnodar awarded the winners of the contest “Golden camera lens”
five Years later, we rode with him in intricate, winding road to the North of India, in the Himalayan valley of Kullu – the summer residence of the great compatriot Nicholas Roerich. Sands was here on a business trip from “Komsomolskaya Pravda”. At some point I thought that I read this magnificent journalist from the school, but I never saw how it works. In an hour the way the opportunity was presented to me. He noticed on the left from our jeep of a man with a bear. To the collar Himalayan bears were tied with rope. A man was walking on the roadside barefoot, amusing way of passing tourists. Not free, of course.
Sand abruptly shouted to the driver “stop!”, instantly jumped out of the jeep with the coffer on his shoulder. A second later he has already had “Nikon”, ready to work. Despite the dust of the road, he flopped on the stomach ten meters away from the man with the bear, from the curb, as out of the trench, removing this Indian miracle. I’m twenty years younger than him, desperately keep up with him. And when the shoot was over, Vasily Mikhailovich literally forced me to translate their questions and the answers of a man with a bear. Approximation of my translations of his categoryoracheski not satisfied. He forced me to ask the same question three or four times until they received a clear answer. For some hours I was exhausted, so as not exhausting ever. But Sands was happy: a trickle of sweat ran down his face from under the cap, the whole shirt and jeans were covered in dust and dirt, but he didn’t notice. He had the material for a newspaper! On film and in a notebook.
He loved sharing his books with funny autographs. Photo: From the archive of Yury Lepsky
by the Way, he never used the recorder. Only Notepad and a small pencil, which he wrote and sketched. He had no mobile phone, just a regular home. It is up to the end of life was shot with a film camera, not digital recognized the wound. Not working on computer, writing by hand. He had no TV. Or it was, but he never saw it. Once he mentioned about this in some interviews. After a day at his house the phone rang. Sands picked up the phone called Solzhenitsyn. The author of “One day of Ivan Denisovich” found it necessary to pay homage and solidarity to the author of a “Window to nature”: Solzhenitsyn was not a looker. And yet, Peskov did not have higher education, only rural school, and about degrees I’m not saying.
participants of the Olympiad “Lomonosov” in journalism came live
This persistent archaic coy who can cause a condescending smile. But not me. Me – the owner of two digital recorders, the sixth iPhone, cheat iPad, digital “Nikon” and the powerful “Mac” – Solzhenitsyn called. Putin to me the law on forests is not discussed, and Vasilieat Mikhailovich felt it necessary to discuss. Not my digital print as canonical texts in children’s primers, and its simple and transparent short stories about nature, written in pencil in a notebook. So it – Q-Sands – winner of dozens of prestigious awards, outstanding professional, competent and authoritative journalist, a fine writer and thinker. And I’m just the owner of this digital stuff. One day he asked me: why do you need so many shirts? It is necessary to have six and two of pants – not any more. I think by and large he’s right. All this running around for fashionable and “modern” is just a pathetic attempt to compensate for the absence of something important and fundamental knowledge, talent, true professionalism. He once gave me advice: never write in the text digit, only letters, not 6, and “six”. The numbers in the text – as-nails in a soft bun. Well, what else could I say?
…And then we got him up to a new Caste in the Kullu valley. We lived in the highland room of the Himalayan hotel, each was given a huge puchooa blanket. Night Sands demanded to open the window. They crawled a few clouds, a light served us the moon. And we’re lying under our jackets, until morning, talking about life and profession, about the childhood, about war, about what can be considered important and what is not. It is amazingly interesting to tell about Darwin’s theory, about his favorite Scene on the river of his childhood, about how I was friends with Geychenko and Mikhaylovskaya filmed from a helicopter… and I… And I thought about how I did not have such conversations with his father, with whom we just started to be friends.
It until the last day came to our office. Strong as Borovik. Took me by the elbow and said in a husky voice: well, when you want to Solovki? In the spring, I replied. – EBJ. EBI was picked up by it. It’s our code – If We are Alive.