"You know, at times, sitting by the campfire, I remember how it all began. I then just had a vacation ticket to a sanatorium, as I remember now, it was the evening. I just returned to the room after dinner, sat by the window to gaze at the bay. It looked very beautiful. As I hear - trucks, and not just a single one, a whole column. That were your colleagues, the USECs. They drove everyone out of the sanatorium, they didn’t even let people get their belongings. I don't care much about clothes or anything, but the album with photos which remained there. Not as a service but as friendship, try to find it there. It is painfully dear to me as a memory of those calm days. My room was on the top floor of the sanatorium. And I won’t offend you with a reward."