The whole time I knew Sergei Kourdakov I only
saw kindness, strength, and compassion.
I have to admit, however, there was a lot I never knew about his former
life in the Soviet Union. He had only
told me a shortened version of his life, leaving out many details for a reason. He did not want to alarm me.
Sergei and I met in the fall of 1972 when we
were both twenty-one, our worlds complete opposites. He was raised in orphanages and quickly learned
that only the strongest would survive.
This photograph of Sergei Kourdakov was taken shortly before he defected. He made sure to stay in shape for his
unbelievable swim to freedom. I, on the
other hand, was raised in a large loving family. In comparison to him, I was petite in stature,
and always felt safe and protected in my family and in my country.
In my book, A
Rose for Sergei, I write about the time I had one brief moment of fear when
Sergei and I were alone in my apartment.
It devastated Sergei to think he frightened me. He assured me he would never hurt me. I really didn’t want to write this particular
chapter in my book because it is deeply personal and private. It was a crucial turning point for Sergei . .
. for both of us. So I shared this part of our story in my
book.
Excerpt from Sergei’s book:
July 1970
Down through the streets of Moscow I
wandered, lonely, disillusioned, distraught.
I was in a state of total confusion, but I decided one thing. I would leave Russia and get as far away as I
could. I can’t say why I wanted to leave
Russia. I only know that I was deeply
disillusioned and desperately unhappy, that something was terribly wrong.
-Sergei
Kourdakov, The Persecutor (Chapter
18, pg. 221)
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