Page 88 - How We Lead Matters

The Pause

When the Radisson Slavjanskaya opened in Moscow in 1991, it was the first
American-managed hotel in the former Soviet Union and one of very few
outside business partnerships. As a result of that relationship, Moscow’s
mayor, Yuri Luzhkov, invited me to an event to commemorate the fiftieth
anniversary of the end of World War II.
As a member of the mayor’s official delegation, I moved slowly through
a line on one side of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier while a queue of
Russian citizens passed by on the other side. The gray skies over Moscow
were a fitting backdrop for the somberness of the moment.
My heart was heavy as I placed my rose on the tomb. I was thinking in
a universal way about the sacrifices of war and in a very personal way about
the loss of my 19 year-old daughter under different circumstances.
As I raised my head, my eyes connected with an elderly Russian woman
on the other side of the tomb. We were locked in each other’s gaze for sev-
eral seconds, until one of the officials from my delegation moved forward to
escort me back to the entourage.
Just as I was about to step into the car, I felt a hand on my arm. It was
the woman at the tomb. She was carrying a plastic drawstring bag from which
she carefully pulled a small bundle wrapped in a woolen scarf. It was a pic-
ture of a young boy.
She presented it to me as if to say, “Look. This was once mine.”
I gently handed it back to her. Yes, I recognize him.

Marilyn Carlson Nelson 71