There is virtually no humor in this story, and it will not fit into the usual Internet 2-3 paragraphs. But believe me, it is worth it. Especially because the story - in fact exclusive, sounded several times in a narrow circle, without bringing out. Now, it seems, it is time for greater coverage, just on Victory Day.

In the 1970s our family lived in Rostov-on-Don at the address: Fortress Street, house 141, square. 48 is The usual brick five-story in the center of the city, across the road from the pool "Briz", if anyone is interested in the exact location.

There and now someone lives in our two-bedroom Chruščov. Just like the floor above, in the 51st apartment, in a single room. But in my childhood, my grandmother Sonja, a quiet, smiling old lady, lived in the apartment number 51. I don’t remember her well, I can say, I don’t remember anything at all, except that she always had a soft plastic bag in the hallway with caramels, with which she served me, resorting to salt or other economic orders.

My mother and Sophia Davydovna often talked, the neighbors at the time were much closer to each other, so the relationship was more open.

Many years have passed, we have moved for a long time, and once my mom told me an amazing story. She, of course, became aware of this from the neighbor, so now it turns out - "from the third hand", sorry if I am wrong. I tell you as I heard.

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Sophia Davydovna in her youth studied in Moscow, practiced in some publication, and when the war began, she became a stenographer-machiner in the editorial office of the newspaper "Red Star". There were a few young girls there, and they worked mainly on the grades of Soviet journalism - in the summer of the forty-first Sonet got Konstantin Mikhailovich Simonov, it was his texts she re-printed most of the time.

The time was heavy. The Germans approached Moscow, daily airstrikes, the edition moved somewhere in the suburbs of the capital, the evacuation is actually being prepared. And suddenly in the midst of all this nightmare they announce: "In Moscow concert! In the Philharmonic! “There are invitation tickets for the newspaper, who wants to go?”

Everybody wanted to go. We found some kind of bus, or half Tuesday, full body of music fans, including Sophia and Simonov. In the courtyard, either the end of summer or the beginning of autumn, we arrived without adventures.

And there beauty - ladies in fashionable dresses, officers in parade uniforms, a few staff also found something to wear. Our girls look in all eyes, a bunch of famous people, what are you! On the stage - the orchestra... here memories fade, like my mother confidently reminds me that it was about the premiere of the symphony of Shostakovich. You feel the atmosphere, right? A piece of peaceful life.

In the middle of the first act, the air defense sirens begin to blow. The orchestra stops playing, the commander comes out and says, "Comrades, we have an unexpected break, whoever wants can come down in the lobby, there is a bomb shelter, it will be safer." The room is silent, no one rises from his seat. “Comrades, I ask you to come down to the bomb shelter!” In response, silence, even the chairs do not whisper. The manager stood, stood, took his hands and left the stage. The orchestra continued to play until the end of the first act.

They applauded, and only then everyone went down to the lobby, where they waited for the alarm. Sonia, of course, looks after "his" Simonov, as he is there and with whom. Everyone knew about his romance with Valentina Serova, and it must happen - at this concert they almost accidentally met.

Serova was with some military, Simonov grabbed the desperately sparkling Sophka, went with her to the actress and introduced them to each other. This, of course, was, rather, an occasion to start the conversation, but the young stenographer and that was enough - even, Serova herself, the star of the screen!

Then Simonov and Serov went aside and there, behind the columns, they talked about something for a long time. The conversation went on a few elevated tones, everyone around delicately as if not noticing what was happening. Simonov asked Serov about something, he whipped his head, he insisted on the answer, but as a result only achieved that Valentina Vasilievna turned and left Simonov alone at these columns.

Here, the beginning of the second act is announced, everyone returns to the hall, a whirlwind of the conductor’s stick, and music grimps again. Time flies unnoticed and almost at night the truck goes back, the spectators tremble in the body, a small rain freezes. Sophia stolenly looks at Simonov, he sits silently, smokes papyrus, one after the other...

Arriving at the location, everyone goes to sleep, full of impressions.

In the deep night, at three o’clock, our heroine wakes up from the fact that she is awakened by a messenger: “Sofka, get up, it urgently demands you!” She begged, soon dressed, resorted to the house where Simonov lived. Konstantin Mikhailovich stands at the dark window, looking at the distance. “Sophia, sit behind the machine” – and begins to dictate:

Wait for me and I will come back, only wait very long,
Wait for the yellow rain,
Wait when the snow melt, wait when it’s hot,
Wait until others wait, forgetting yesterday.

Soffka knocks on the keys and cries. And tears drop on the first printed copy of the famous poem.

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I have long thought about writing this post. There is no written evidence. Sophia Dawidovna Yukelson died in the late eighties, other similar memories were not found, Yandex also knows nothing about it.

In some archives there will probably be facts confirming or disproving this story. But I think it is worthy to be preserved in our memory - a small piece of history of a great country.

Such things.