Cherdantsev biography

About me the biography was such a village of Cherdan somewhere in the Tobolsk province. So my great -grandfather said, now there is no attic on the map, there is a Cherdyn in the Perm Territory and the river with the same name. But we are the Cherdantsevs, not the Cherdyntsevs. So, we will believe in the legend of the great -grandfather. In the M century, the Cherdantsevs moved to Omsk, lived there for some time, and then moved to the capital - to Petersburg.

From there, starting with my great-great-grandfather Nikanor Cherdantsev, and you can trace the story of my family. Nikanor was a famous lawyer, he wrote the first tediment in Russia, we knew little about Nikanor of Cherdantsev, as it recently turned out - not by chance. With such a relative, they could also shoot. A historian from Uzbekistan, who has been the history of the last years of the tsarist family, getting acquainted with a large number of archival documents, exceeded that Nikanor Stepanovich was not just a prominent lawyer in Uzbekistan, but attorney in the affairs of the Grand Duke Nikolai Konstantinovich, who lived in Tashkent, like Nikanor of Cherdantsev.

It was Nikanor Stepanovich who constituted the will of the Grand Duke and was, as Uzbekistan historians believe, one of the people closest to him in the last months of the life of the Grand Duke. There, in Tashkent, one of his four children settled, my great -grandfather Gleb Nikanorovich. In the years, he was the deputy chairman of the State Planning Commission of the Turkestan Republic, headed the subcommission for the economic association of the Republics of Central Asia.

The specialty of the great -grandfather is geography. He wrote a textbook on the economic geography of Uzbekistan, compiled the first geographical map of the republic. In Soviet times, in Tashkent there was avenue of Cherdantsev, then he was renamed in honor of some local folk hero. I visited Tashkent for the first time recently and found out that Tashkents still call two microdistricts of the city of Cherdantsev in the old fashioned way: Cherdantsev-1 and Cherdantsev-2-where the avenue was held at one time.

Great -grandfather died in the m year of the academician of the Academy of Sciences in Moscow, was buried in the Novodevichy cemetery. His son, my grandfather, in whose honor they called me, Georgy Nikanorovich was at the front of the commodity. He, unlike many other commanders, was lucky: he was surrounded and led his fighters to his personnel. The first question that he was asked at the interrogation was: why didn’t you shoot the first thing when you realized that you were surrounded?

Fortunately, that headquarters bastard who raised the question was replaced by a normal person, and instead of a penal battalion or execution, the grandfather received the Order of the Red Star. After the war, he, as a school with honors, was sent to work out in the most prestigious university of the country of MGIMO, and then to serve in intelligence, where he first worked in Afghanistan, then in the GDR and then in the Germany, and then in the year in the year, about which they wrote “Izvestia” was written in Afghanistan.

As far as I know, the Grif “Top Secret” has not yet been removed from this story. I have never seen my grandfather, but owed his birth in the most direct way to him: my father was then 18, and the tragedy in the family brought him closer to my future mother - his classmate. I was born on February 1 in Moscow, in the hospital on Elansky Street. The question of my name did not even stand: George in honor of his grandfather, briefly - Yura, because he was always called that - the second name of the intelligence officer.

Parents spent all their lives at the Faculty of Biology of Moscow State University. Mom candidate of sciences, researcher, dad is now a doctor of sciences, professor. They always worked a lot, they were absent for a long time and my grandmother - my father’s mother, was engaged in my affairs. My other great -grandfather on the paternal line Zakhar Ginzburg lived in Leningrad, my grandmother was born there, my father was also born there.

The great -grandfather spent the entire blockade in Leningrad from the first to the last day. Grandmother and mother and younger brother were in evacuation in Kuibyshev Samara. There, the grandmother graduated from a school with a gold medal and secretly submitted documents to the military registration and enlistment office - a volunteer to the front. But she was not taken, but sent to study at the Military Institute of Foreign Languages.

The German there, of course, was taught without fail, and other “enemy” languages ​​were simply distributed: they built everyone in one line, designed for the first, there, the tenth and said: the first numbers - English, the second - Spanish, the third - the Swedish, etc. Italian went. In m, she was already a translator of the USSR military attache in Italy, who negotiated the liberation of our prisoners.

Many outstanding linguists came out of the then VIIII, many textbooks of foreign languages ​​that were studied in the post -war years were written by its graduates. In particular, my grandmother became one of the leading specialists in the country in the Italian language. She is the author of numerous textbooks and dictionaries, a long -term head of the Department of Romanesque languages ​​of MGIMO.

Unfortunately, my grandmother, who has done so much for me, is no longer. In my mother’s line, quite ordinary Russian people, though grandmother in the family had real Kuban Cossacks.Her mother once before the revolution had a house and a huge apple garden near Maykop. Grandma well done. She is 91, she is in perfect order, she listens and looks at all my broadcasts and is happy that you can finally see me on a free channel, and she refused to put the paid categorically.

Grandmother's father moved the family to Moscow before the revolution. They lived somewhere in the Krasnoselskaya area. Then, after the war, my grandmother met her grandfather, who, having attributed a year to myself, went as a volunteer to the front and received two medals for courage, which I am especially proud of after his death, and a severe wound, as a result of which he almost lost his vision at 21.

The institute of international relations, where he gathered after the war, like his father's grandfather, was not taken by this grandfather, because the gunpowder from the projectile that fell into the trench was so deep into the face that it turned out to be gray in the photo, and this was completely unacceptable for the passport. Grandfather became a teacher of chemistry at a trading school, and grandmother worked as a Russian language teacher in a regular school.

Since the second grandmother and parents were always busy, I spent a lot of time with my grandfather with my grandmother at their house at a 15 -minute walk from the airport metro. Grandfather, as a war disabled person, relied various benefits, for example, at the end of the X he had a color TV, which I watched all the weekend all the weekend and watched. And, of course, the cottage.

A small summer house in a modest area that the grandfather never distinguished the practicality from some strange reasons, because the site, and he, as a beneficiary, had a fairly large selection, was uncomfortable in all respects and was located in the southern part of the Moscow region, although his grandfather lived in the north of the city. But it was in this dacha, what it was, I actually grew up.

It was in that dacha that all sorts of “first times” took place.

If they asked me: what is the homeland? Or - where is she? I would indicate the exact place: I need to go up to the attic of our house, from where the view of the river and the field opened in the window, which ended with a line of power lines running somewhere in a haze on the horizon along an abandoned railway. All that I saw in the window is my homeland. I knew then, and what happiness is.

Happiness, this is when, perhaps, at best, two parents came to visit me in the best season, and we went through this field, there, to the railway, where the world ended, which I saw from the window football appeared in my life at 6 years old. My grandfather, whom I have never seen, was a fan, my father inherited interest in football. They were on the Spartak.

I remember exactly at what point I began to root for Spartak and I. In m, the team flew to the 1st league. I did not know anything about this and went to my father, who watched some match, with a question. Father muttered something displeasedly. I was upset and went to my mother to find out why my dad has such a bad mood. Mom explained that the mood is bad, because Spartak loses. From this I concluded: so that dad has a good mood, it is necessary that Spartak win, and begin to root for Spartak.

In M, he followed the position of the team in the table in "Soviet sports", and in M ​​he already quite consciously watched football and completely remembered the decisive, golden match. Then, in the year in M, I began to go to the football section, which was organized by an enthusiast-teacher of physical education. The singing teacher urged my parents to give me to a music school, but dad reacted to this proposal skeptical, preferring football.

In the year, our coach received an invitation to the Sports School of Spartak-2, where he took several guys from our section, including me. So I began to ride three times a week on the VDNH metro for training. Of course, there was no question of professional football career, but I played decently and with pleasure, having gained a lot of letters and medals for 6 years of youth football.

After the English special school, where I was determined, of course, not without a grandmother's patronage, the question arose of where to study. Grandmother wanted me to be closer and insisted on MGIMO, but categorically against was the father who insisted at Moscow State University, the most democratic university of the country, for admission to even the Komsomol ticket, and in MGIMO, for example, without a two -year Komsomol experience simply did not accept.

It so happened that I was sent to school at six and a half years old, and at sixteen and a half I was already a freshman of the university. Of course, study, this was the last thing that took care of me at that moment. In the second year, playing for the team of the faculty, I received a severe knee injury, an injury, as it turned out, for life. The operation when there were no arthroscopes, we did not dare to do, I limped for another 15 years until I finally ruined my knee, so that it was no longer possible to do without surgical intervention.

The surgeon who did the operation was shocked by what he saw. Studying was interesting to me in the 4th year, but university life, unfortunately, was coming to an end. In fact, I did not receive education, that is, there is a diploma, of course, but I did not have any special knowledge that could be useful in life, or I had no reliable profession. However, then, at the end of X, knowledge of foreign languages ​​was still considered a profession and distinguished among others.

For example, knowledge of the Italian language, unlike today's times, was a rarity and brought income. In principle, if not for the revolution of the year, my life would have walked along the path of a beaten grandmother: I would surely stay in graduate school and would be attached to some kind of a Foreign Ministry or something else that would regularly fulfill the dream of a Soviet man-to go into foreign labor.

True, at the beginning of the X travel abroad ceased to be so inaccessible, and the situation in the country changed sharply. I finished my studies in the other in another country. In Russia. There was no money, everyone was all around and did what they were looking for a way to make money. A quiet, calm life of a researcher could be forgotten. My grandmother arranged me for her former student as an assistant in a joint Russian-Italian enterprise.

There I worked for four years as a translator in the legal department, I learned the Italian language perfectly and lit up daily, because sitting at the computer and working in a suit from 9 to 18 not for me. Simultaneously with the main work, I all the time, like everything around, sold: forest and oil, tanks and planes, elephant bone and gas masks.