It happened a lifetime ago, forty-five
years to be exact. January 1, 1973 is
the date that Sergei Kourdakov’s life tragically slipped away from a single gunshot
to his head. It is also the date that strange
stories began to circulate about what really happened that night. Some of those stories contradict what I
personally know about Sergei, and they don’t add up. Apparently I’m not alone in my thinking.
Journalist Emma Best recently published
a fascinating and informative report about Sergei Kourdakov. Part Two of her report discusses Sergei’s
death: FBI
file reveals numerous contradictions in the curious case of Sergei Kourdakov. At the end of the report you can read the
actual FBI documents released under the Freedom of Information Act.
After reading all of the released
documents and newspaper articles, a few things jumped out at me. The female skiing companion in Sergei’s room
the night he died is referred to as Sergei’s “fiancée.” If you follow my blog, you’ll know that
Sergei and I openly dated while he was in Washington, DC. We planned to spend Christmas together with
my parents, but they were living on a secure Air Force Base in Massachusetts,
and access for Sergei was impossible. As
a result, Sergei planned a ski trip in California with friends. Before Sergei left he gave me the telephone
number of the family he was staying with so we could talk on Christmas
day. It would be highly unlikely for
Sergei to give me the phone number of his “fiancée.”
Another part mentioned in the
article is the Russian roulette theory.
I don’t know what really happened the night Sergei died, but I do know
he would never have taken his own life.
He would not have foolishly waved a gun around.
Excerpt from A Rose for Sergei
Chapter 18 – Home for the Holidays
December 1972
We spent the rest of the afternoon curled up
on the sofa talking and trading stories about our lives. Sergei always loved to talk about his life in
the United States; everything was new to him.
He avoided discussing his life in the Soviet Union. We were comfortable, holding hands and kissing,
trying to enjoy every single minute we had.
It seemed like no topics were off limits. I asked him something that I was wondering
about.
“Sergei, do they really play Russian Roulette
in the Soviet Union?”
“Yes, they do,” he replied as he looked at me
curiously. “It is very dangerous game.”
“Have you ever played Russian Roulette?”
“Yes. Why
are you asking me this question?”
“Because I don’t want you to ever do that again,
that’s why.” He looked perplexed and was
non-fazed by my comment.
“It is okay, I played Russian Roulette in the
USSR when we had a lot of vodka to drink.
I was very stupid then. I am not
stupid now,” he casually replied as he seemingly brushed aside my concern.
I was not satisfied with his answer because he
didn’t seem to be taking me very seriously.
“Sergei, please listen to me, I’m serious. Please don’t play that game again.”
“Okay.”
He still hadn’t convinced me so I punched him
lightly on his arm with my fist so he would look right at me, see my concern,
and know I was serious. “I really mean
it, don’t play Russian Roulette again,” I managed to say as firmly as I could. He grabbed his arm and rubbed it dramatically,
pretending I had mortally wounded him.
“Why is this concern?” he asked as he tried to
hold back a smile.
“Because I love you, and I don’t want anything
to happen to you. That’s why.”
“Okay, I promise. I will never do that again.”
* * *
A Rose for Sergei (eBook only)
will be FREE
on Amazon from January 4-6, 2018
