Page 251 - The Mirror of My Soul. Vol. 1

Nicolai Levashov. The Mirror of My Soul. Vol. 1. Born in the USSR

was needed because one day, when my father was travelling by train, the brakes were
applied sharply and he fell from an upper berth onto the table of the compartment. He
broke several ribs, but did not pay any attention to this, thinking that he was just badly
bruised. My father told no one about it and went to work and worked with broken ribs.

As a result, his ribs accreted incorrectly, began to press on a lung and caused an

abscess which forced him to go for the checkup. He did not want to bother me with his
small problems, as he considered them, and anyway I could not give him a medical
certificate, which he needed in or-der to spend some time recovering. But the results of
the checkup showed the presence of a vast abscess in his right lung and doctors began
to talk about ablation of this lung.

I could not agree with this under any circumstances. I had no authority to give my
father a medical certificate, but could not allow him to lose his right lung. Therefore, I
began to visit him, first with my mother, and when she went home, I came with Svetlana.
During my visits I worked with him, I did not even move my hands in order not to annoy
doctors. And after a while not one of them even mentioned an operation and my father
went home with his right lung safe and sound.

Those days when I visited him in MONIKI were the last days I saw my father alive.

He was killed by a blow to the heart on August, 31 1994. In was a special “gift” for me
after my refusal to cooperate with the next secret service demand. But it will happen in
1994, and then in June-July, 1991 I saw my father for the last time and even did not
suspect it.

At the same time one event happened. It was not something epoch -making, but,
nevertheless, very interesting. One day Vladimir Dmitrievich Sergeev came to me in
Butovo with his good friend, who was well-known in cinematographic circles as a
talented designer. She had been awarded an “Oscar” for her work. I often met this
woman. She was a very pleasant and clever interlocutrix, but this time they arrived not
for the sake of philosophizing, but with a very specific question.

She, as a specialist, was invited to design costumes for a historical film. The events
of the film took place in France of the 14-15 century. In order to create costumes of
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that epoch, she must know certain details. For example, how a dress for lady of high
society of that time was made. She was unable to find anything about this subject neither
in special libraries nor in the Lenin’s State Library of the USSR. She knew about my
abilities and asked me to help her.

To tell the truth, I had no idea about historical costumes, especially, about lady’s
dresses of that era. Nevertheless, I decided to try to help her in this business. I displaced

into the necessary time and began to describe to her, what I managed to see as an
amateur. She, as a professional, asked additional questions which were important for
understanding the technology of dress-making at that time. I answered all her questions
and forgot about this episode. Later this woman shared with me some curious
information about my work.

It happened that she sent a letter of inquiry to the National library of France
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concerning the technology of dress-making for high circles of society of the 14-15
centuries and after a while got an answer. The answer shocked her because it coincided
in almost every way with the information she got through me. Moreover, my information
was more complete and allowed her to reproduce the technology of that time.

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