My father Ilya Fradkov Ravkin was born in poorest family on June 22, 1910 (a coincidence of war, he was unable to celebrate his birthday in 1941) in Simferopol. There, in the very late 19th century, his father, my grandfather, moved from Melitopol in search of work. He married, the children went, four of them: the elder brother of 1901, the second brother of 1906 and the sister of 1912. The parents died early, in the middle of the twentieth year.
My father has been a messenger since he was 14 years old before finishing school. It seems that only seven classes have ended. One time he lived and worked for a big brother in Kharkov. He then moved to Moscow in 1931, graduated from the welders ' course and later worked at an autofactory named Stalin, while at night school. In 1935, he entered the Moscow law school. As in previous years, he lived in a dormitory.
In 1940, he successfully graduated from the institute and was sent to work as a consultant to the legal Division in the management of the affairs of the ANC of the USSR. He was assigned a an room at the Government House (20 entrance, sq.) 403). Exactly 70 years ago, on 17 February 1941, he married my mother, María Petrovna, born in 1917, by the time that the Institute of National Economy, which had already completed its occupation of "commodity" and worked in a department store at beach. Photos of a very humble wedding have survived. Her father (and my grandfather) came to Moscow with my grandmother in 1901 and appeared as a locksmith to the Belarusian railway station. Before that, they lived in the Ryazan province, a goose in the village, which was known to have Iron factory Batashev since the 18th century. Her grandmother had seven children, but three died at an early age. The older brother worked as a driver all his life, a second brother worked in an aviation factory, and the older sister worked as a cashier at the train station. Grandma lived to the Advanced years (92 years), and mom died very recently, and she was a 91 year old.
In the fall of 1941, my father was called to the Army, to the Western Front, where he stayed until 1944.
And in Moscow in October 1941, the tenants of the Government House were resettled (the bridges were mined through Moscow-river), the father was already called into the army, and mom moved to the grandmother's apartment, of course, on the 1st Brest Street. And then a very unusual story happened. decided to leave Moscow in the home of a grandmother in Ryazan Oblast, together with her older sister and her son. Somehow they got there by rail and by Oka, but then, according to the mother's story, they decided to return to the capital so that in my future metric, the "place of birth" would have the word "Moscow". That is, in October, the flow of people eastwards, and the women's Trinity with seven kid and two women in the demolitions is tearing back to the capital. As a result, on November 16, 1941, in the wrong time, I showed up, like my mother said, at the maternity hospital on Miussah, into the shelter. We stayed with Grandma until 1943, then judging by the dates on the stamps of the cards sent by the father from the front-and the mother kept them all her life-returned to the Government House. They were returned to the population in 1942.
The father was on the front until 1944, apparently because of the heavy concussion that he would continue to be disabled for the illness that he received during the hostilities. All three military years, he worked in his main occupation, that is, the military investigator of the division and then the Corps. He returned to Moscow in the rank of captain, and was awarded the Medal for Combat Merit. Pure military memory in my mind was almost unsustained, and the father was not particularly divided, even though we were in childhood asking to talk about military adventures and exploits. He usually Carson: The cannons did not fire, the tanks did not donate, but he came out of the environment, and Contusion received the hospital as a result.
Following the return of his father in 1945, we were given a long room in the same apartment, No. 403. In 1946, my little brother was born. In the future, Ilya Fradkov worked where he was before the war, in the management of the affairs of the Council of Ministers of the USSR. In 1949, the rank of major justice was demobilized. It's hard to figure out the reason, but maybe it was his nationality. The times were the most brutal in this sense.
On November 1, 1951, we moved to another apartment, also communal, to the area of the cover Boulevard, to a small higher-education alley, and now it has the old name, the small side, next to the ancient Church of the three saints. In the church, then, people were human. Our family was given two adjoining rooms. Of course, there was no comparison between the living conditions, the old and the new ones: heating heat, eternal roof leaks, etc. But life continued.
His father died in 1982.

Viktor Fradkov Ravkin