While he was alive, it seemed that our affairs were not hopeless It was simply impossible to immediately believe his death. Consciousness resisted, and it acted like anesthesia. Now the anesthesia wears off, and the pain becomes stronger and more persistent. I am writing to you again, dear “Novaya”, to find at least some consolation. In sympathy. And also because - you, that I was not allowed to say goodbye to Yura, as I wanted, on the pages of the Literaturnaya Gazeta.

— The main task of a journalist? — Taking care of your reputation This interview is a student interview, recorded in Yu.P.’s office. Shchekochikhin in the State Duma at the end of December 2002. Intended for aspiring colleagues in writing studying at the Higher School of Journalism for publication in the student newspaper of the International University in Moscow “Alma Mater”.

Thirty years - on his way I pass by Yura’s grave again. Until recently there were a lot of wreaths on it and around it, then there were a lot of flowers. Sometimes passing cars (and the grave is clearly visible from the bridge over Setun) honked their horn. Individual bouquets are already being viewed. There are also fresh... I walk along the short road to the station. I was once robbed here. Or rather, not once, but in 1995, shortly before the parliamentary elections.

I didn't know him. I just read his articles, and every time it seemed like this is a person whose eyes are structured very similarly. For some reason, he was angry at the same things that made me happy, and the same joys made him happy. And one day... It was either Saturday or Sunday three years ago. On the “box” - one of the few programs that I always wanted to watch: “Harbour”. Damn it, what ships entered it!

IS HE STOBBORN OR DOES HE NEED SOMETHING? Not long ago we saw off Slava Golovanov. And now another star of domestic journalism has gone out - Yuri Shchekochikhin died. Day by day our professional horizon is becoming darker, because the Masters are leaving, and the current time, alas, does not give birth to anything equivalent to them. And this creates a kind of aching emptiness in my soul. Times have changed, and journalists have changed.

Words are impossible to find here. Because it is impossible to imagine that reliability disappears from life. Yurina’s amazing reliability – friendly, human. How we staged his play “Trap No. 46, Growth II” at the Central Children's Theater in 1982! It was a time of absolute meaning for the theater: it was as if a fresh wind rushed into us with this play about teenagers, about time... We were absolutely sure, more sure than ever, that we were doing something when we staged this play.

Yurka turned 53, but for me he always remained seventeen. This seventeen-year-old, the way he ran, bubbling with bubbling speeches, along the corridors of Komsomolskaya Pravda, always appeared in him: in a gray-haired, very serious and very preoccupied man who was never afraid of anything and was not afraid to answer for everything himself. It’s hard for me to imagine that Yurka could have enemies.

Now, of course, I cannot find the appropriate words. How to describe an unexpected blow to the crown? From the surprise of this person’s death, you are at a loss for words. Although, I admit, I warned him all the time: “You’re asking for trouble. Even you cannot imagine how they, whom you are not afraid of, are afraid of you. What plans are they hatching? He laughed and continued to laugh at this very trouble. How it was there, how it all happened, we don’t know now and maybe we’ll never know.

Remember the tricky riddle: which is heavier - a pound of fluff or sixteen kilograms of lead? The same deceptiveness of the visible and the existing was present in Shchekochikhin: he was himself, and only himself, but he could seem lightly fluttering and ponderously solid - depending on how you look at it. Shchekochikhin, Shchekoch, is a goldfinch, “in the guise of something like a bird,” according to Tarkovsky. He didn't sit still all the time.

Dear friends, please accept my deep and sincere condolences regarding the sudden death of the deputy editor-in-chief of Novaya Gazeta, deputy of the State Duma of the Federal Assembly of the Russian Federation, deputy chairman of the State Duma Security Committee, Yuri Petrovich Shchekochikhin. The news of the death of Yuri Petrovich shocked me and the entire Gorbachev Foundation team to the core.

It was easy to imitate him. Let's say, put your hands in your jeans pockets and, swaying, shout into an imaginary microphone: “Journalism... this... is not a profession... it's... a way of life!..” It was easy to imitate. No one could live like him He not only loved those with whom he worked and for this reason considered them the most talented people in the world.

I deeply mourn the death of Yuri Petrovich Shchekochikhin. The name of Yuri Petrovich - a wonderful person and a Citizen with a capital C - has long been known in journalistic circles. But the time of democratic reforms, which demanded people like him - highly intelligent, professional, talented, bright, decent and modest, made him a real star that rose on the horizon of the new Russia.

The unexpected news of the death of Yuri Shchekochikhin struck me, as it probably did many. The significance of this loss cannot be overestimated. I express my deep condolences to all his family and friends, the editors of Novaya Gazeta, and everyone who was friends and worked with him. And all of Russia, which in his person has lost one of the most active and fearless fighters for its survival. Naum KORZHAVIN, Boston ... Shchekochikhin was a Non-Slave.

We no longer have a close friend. Many of us will never forget him. His friendship and work with us, his warmth and sincerity allowed us to understand and learn a lot from him. His presence in both journalism and politics gave everything a human touch. Yuri Shchekochikhin was a real deputy and journalist. He defended the rights and lives of people not because of his position, but because he could not imagine his life any other way.

This question comes up from all sides. Without receiving the data from the post-mortem examination (it was carried out with the consent of relatives), we will not present our thoughts on this matter. Let's just say that the allergic syndrome that affected Yura was terrible. Two initial tests did not reveal the deadly substance. The doctors of the Central Clinical Hospital, the consultants they invited and us, did everything possible for Yura. We are witnesses to this.