Sixty years ago, my grandmother Margarita Nikolaevna became a participant in the events of the Kurenevsky tragedy, which occurred in Kyiv on March 13, 1961. Every time she recounted to me, still a schoolgirl and student, what she had seen on that terrible day, I thought that I would like to forever capture those moments, without letting them disappear, like everything that disappeared on that day, turning with the passage of time into facts and figures. I wanted to leave them alive on the pages as vivid as they were sixty years ago, so that not only I would know the story of what it was like to be an accidental survivor at the center of a terrible disaster that claimed many lives. I dedicate this story to my grandmother and all the victims of the Kurenev tragedy.