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Marik Loksin (1962-1995) .
I met Marik on IRC in August 1993. We talked for an hour then and both noticed an interesting thing. On IRC people often dump their sentences simultaneously and in the course of our conversation several times we typed almost identical sentences. It seemed that we were reading each other's minds. We were amazed about how much our views coincided.
Next day we met in person. We sat in a cafe drinking beer and talking. It is worth mentioning that he had driven all the way from Haifa to Tel Aviv (about 80 miles) just for that.
But that was him. Those who knew him in person would not be surprised.
That was an extraordinary person. Most astonishing thing about him was his generosity, his readiness to spend time, money, efforts for some purpose, often for somebody else.
Whenever he could help somebody he would do it. He often would help people he barely knew.
He was not naive, not at all. It was just his way of living. Those who knew him, adored him.
Having been brought up in Caucasus, he combined the best qualities of an Ashkenazi Jew and a Caucasian.
He worked as a software engineer in Israeli Electric Company - a dream of many Israelis. But having a high salary, he had no savings, he had always been in overdraft.
He had been taking from the life everything he could afford right then. It hurts me to think how right he was about that.
His mind always worked in very constructive way. If someone had a problem, he immediately offered solutions. It was not in his habit to give up, to get desperate. He was also very gallant and polite person, a real gentleman. Women really appreciated that in him.
He was very modest, almost shy. Having so much to be proud of, he never praised himself. On the opposite, he often made fun of himself. And this was not a pose, this was natural.
Marik died on March 27,1995 from a sudden asthma attack in the age of 32. On the funeral his father cried out: "God, why do you take so good people?" Of course, any father could say that about his son. But I doubt there is anybody who would argue that about him.
I know that it may not sound plausible, but when he was alive I often had a vague feeling that he may be gone. I just felt that he was too good to stay long in this world.
We lived in distant cities and did not see each other too often. But we talked on the phone almost every day or even several times a day. We could talk about everything, our interests coincided, and most often so did our views and opinions.
For me he was more than just a good friend. He was almost my second self. Something very important has gone in my life with him.
Это не перевод статьи, которая написанна по-английски, это ее продолжение, а может быть предисловие. Я работала в Баку в Политехническом институте. Когда нам поставили 45-ую ЕС-ку выяснилось, что просто так на нее программы с 22-ой не переносятся. Мои задачи повисли, опероционка не поддерживает определенный вид файлов. Мой сослуживец, Рамиз Садыхов, видя, что я на грани истерики, говорит, что знает одного человека, Локсина, который мне может помочь, других специалистов нет. Спрашиваю, а где Ваш Локсин? Ну, говорит мне Рамиз, у меня его телефона нет, но к концу недели он должен зайти. Дня через два ищу телефон в записной книжке у мужа и натыкаюсь на фамилию Локсин. "Боже," - кричу, - "я его ищу по всему городу, а у тебя его телефон записан!" - "Так, это же Марик, он у нас вчера был, чего ты его ищешь?" - удивляется муж. Но я же фамилию, когда чай наливаю, не спрашиваю. Так я и познакомилась с Мариком, не только как с товарищем своего мужа, а как с одним из самых главных специалистов. Потом мы знакомились в третий раз, но это уже совскм другая история...
Source: http://www.maxho.com/~gera/memorial/mcmonal.litm
Марк Локсин
1962 - 27.3.1995Marik Loksin (1962-1995) .
I met Marik on IRC in August 1993. We talked for an hour then and both noticed an interesting thing. On IRC people often dump their sentences simultaneously and in the course of our conversation several times we typed almost identical sentences. It seemed that we were reading each other's minds. We were amazed about how much our views coincided.
Next day we met in person. We sat in a cafe drinking beer and talking. It is worth mentioning that he had driven all the way from Haifa to Tel Aviv (about 80 miles) just for that.
But that was him. Those who knew him in person would not be surprised.
That was an extraordinary person. Most astonishing thing about him was his generosity, his readiness to spend time, money, efforts for some purpose, often for somebody else.
Whenever he could help somebody he would do it. He often would help people he barely knew.
He was not naive, not at all. It was just his way of living. Those who knew him, adored him.
Having been brought up in Caucasus, he combined the best qualities of an Ashkenazi Jew and a Caucasian.
He worked as a software engineer in Israeli Electric Company - a dream of many Israelis. But having a high salary, he had no savings, he had always been in overdraft.
He had been taking from the life everything he could afford right then. It hurts me to think how right he was about that.
His mind always worked in very constructive way. If someone had a problem, he immediately offered solutions. It was not in his habit to give up, to get desperate. He was also very gallant and polite person, a real gentleman. Women really appreciated that in him.
He was very modest, almost shy. Having so much to be proud of, he never praised himself. On the opposite, he often made fun of himself. And this was not a pose, this was natural.
Marik died on March 27,1995 from a sudden asthma attack in the age of 32. On the funeral his father cried out: "God, why do you take so good people?" Of course, any father could say that about his son. But I doubt there is anybody who would argue that about him.
I know that it may not sound plausible, but when he was alive I often had a vague feeling that he may be gone. I just felt that he was too good to stay long in this world.
We lived in distant cities and did not see each other too often. But we talked on the phone almost every day or even several times a day. We could talk about everything, our interests coincided, and most often so did our views and opinions.
For me he was more than just a good friend. He was almost my second self. Something very important has gone in my life with him.
Это не перевод статьи, которая написанна по-английски, это ее продолжение, а может быть предисловие. Я работала в Баку в Политехническом институте. Когда нам поставили 45-ую ЕС-ку выяснилось, что просто так на нее программы с 22-ой не переносятся. Мои задачи повисли, опероционка не поддерживает определенный вид файлов. Мой сослуживец, Рамиз Садыхов, видя, что я на грани истерики, говорит, что знает одного человека, Локсина, который мне может помочь, других специалистов нет. Спрашиваю, а где Ваш Локсин? Ну, говорит мне Рамиз, у меня его телефона нет, но к концу недели он должен зайти. Дня через два ищу телефон в записной книжке у мужа и натыкаюсь на фамилию Локсин. "Боже," - кричу, - "я его ищу по всему городу, а у тебя его телефон записан!" - "Так, это же Марик, он у нас вчера был, чего ты его ищешь?" - удивляется муж. Но я же фамилию, когда чай наливаю, не спрашиваю. Так я и познакомилась с Мариком, не только как с товарищем своего мужа, а как с одним из самых главных специалистов. Потом мы знакомились в третий раз, но это уже совскм другая история...
Source: http://www.maxho.com/~gera/memorial/mcmonal.litm
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