Dear Evgeniy ArturovichFrom Memories of Stas IonovDear Evgeniy Arturovich,
 Sad news came today from Irina Ionova. Her husband, Stanislav Ionov, tragically died when biking not far from his house on Saturday 10, 2005. He and another biker were killed by a speeding catering truck. This accident was eerily reminiscent of what happened just a few years ago, when bikers from Stas' group were killed on the mountain road by a speeding pickup truck, but Stas's life has been spared, though he sustained some injuries. They say that a shell never hits same crater twice. They were wrong.  I visited Stas and Irina on many occasions. Sometimes once a year, sometimes more. As you may know, Stas was an avid sea captain and invited me to sail with him on a 30 ft sailboat from the Fairwind yacht club where he was an active member. While sailing, we frequently indulged ourselves in reminiscing about our past: life in the USSR, ISAN (Institute of Spectroscopy -ed.), and our former ISAN colleagues. We remembered the people from "our" former laboratories: for Laser Spectroscopy and Excited Molecular States, and also VN Bagratashvili's lab in this whatever Institute I could never remember the name of. We shared funny stories about building lasers and measuring spectra, and we drank for eternal memory of those colleagues who past away in USA and Russia. For me and for many of his friends, this is too big of a loss to handle. Stas was a leading scientist in HRL Lab – a world-renowned research organization where he worked for the last 10 years, and where he was deeply respected. For several years, he was distinguished as the best inventor at HRL. Stas and his wife Irina were the only people in the USA whom I could call anytime day or night and share a story or simply to update them on events in my life. They are open-heart people, connected with and supporting a lot of former colleagues. In their house near city of Los Angeles (LA for short as it is called here) where I stayed on numerous occasions, I could always find an inexhaustible love of life, good food and good conversation. I remember our annual boat trips to Catalina: early Friday morning the house cat Stepan, whom I called Kotovskiy (play on kot – Russian for cat and Kotovskiy – a legendary Russian general –ed.) for his bravery and survival skills among local wildlife, would come to wake me up; that excellent Irina's cofee; Stas' skillful driving during rush hour; Malibu beaches and a road to Marina del Rey; and "our" sailboat neatly moored among other boats...  During our sea travels I was his crew and he was my captain, calm and experienced. I remember the year of 1998; it was my first time on a 30-ft sailboat when we sailed to Catalina Island that year. We were caught in a terrible ocean storm. Only Stas’ great experience and steel nerves helped us walk (sail) out of trouble. Among all that havoc and calamity, among huge ocean waves and gusts of wind, I made a photo of him – naturally, "a man and a sea" as in Hemingway story. He told me later that he was through several of these since then, and ocean spared his and his crew lives. The last time I sailed with Stas and Irina to Catalina was for his annual marathon run in March 2005. I can confidently say that few people have a chance to survive 42 km run with two 800-m hills, often in mud. Stas did it easily for many years. I could not even imagine how he managed to run under the hot Californian sun at all, but he did. After the event, three of us: Stas, Irina and myself, sat in a cozy restaurant near the ocean and had a very good time. This is how I will always remember him – easy, calm, sipping Tequila, joking and always beginning: "Eugene, this is correct, but..."  Whatever happens, I will return to Catalina. Thank you Stas and Irina for opening this little-known Californian paradise for me. I will sit there, in our place near the ocean, with my friends, with my kids, and tell them stories about our brave past and about my favorite captain Stas who proved himself as a distinguished person in very different fields, even lives, and among different people. My deep sympathy and thoughts to Stas' close family: to you, Ira, to your and Stas' daughter Sophia, and to Stas' brother Pavel, three beautiful people who have lost the loved one. I cannot find the right words to console you at this sad moment except to cry on your shoulders. I have booked tickets to the City of Angels to see Stas for the very last time this Saturday, September 17.
|
|