Fans of Shatunov, Zhirinovsky and Menshov gathered at the funeral of Inna Churikova

The people at the Novodevichy cemetery gathered at 13.00. More than an hour remained before the start of the funeral ceremony.

– I’m already cold, when will the coffin be brought? – the woman in a short fur coat shifted from foot to foot.

“You were told not to wait until 2:00 pm,” the man in the sheepskin coat explained.

Near the central gate of the cemetery there were two paddy wagons. There was also a police force on duty. Employees of the Russian Guard in bulletproof vests were placed throughout the churchyard. This is the first time I have seen such unprecedented security measures.

Why so many guards? she asked the man in uniform.

– They ordered to take increased measures.

– Maybe someone from the government will come?

We weren’t told about it.

They didn’t report, so it’s not worth waiting for anyone. And, indeed, none of the high-ranking officials came to the cemetery. But a lot of people sent wreaths: from President Putin and Prime Minister Mishustin to deputies of the Moscow City Duma.

While waiting for the hearse, I spoke to the audience.

– We are admirers of Yura Shatunov, – said the ladies who carried a wreath of white lilies. -. After all, we first came to the Cathedral of Christ the Savior to say goodbye, but we were late, they did not let us in. And at the cemetery everything is democratic, kind.

A wreath with the inscription “To the great actress from Shatunov’s fans” was placed by the women in front of the burial place of Inna Churikova.

People sat on benches near the graves. Mostly discussed everyday issues, touched upon political issues.

One man gathered a small crowd around him and read a lecture on the dangers of smoking: “Here Yankovsky smoked all the time with a pipe, and therefore ruined his health … And electronic cigarettes are completely poison.”

– Where is the grave of Zhirinovsky, have you long wanted to look at it? – fussed a young man with a bouquet of roses. – I’ll put half the flowers for him, I’ll give half to Churikova.

At 14.30 a hearse drove up to the cemetery. People were asked to disperse, skip the funeral procession. But no one moved.

– What are we, in vain so much froze? – Rested the pensioner.

The hearse drove towards the funeral tent, where the farewell ceremony was planned.

Husband of Inna Churikova Gleb Panfilov, son Ivan, colleagues and friends of the actress went under the tent. The others followed them. People took out their phones, unashamedly filmed what was happening.

The coffin was carried to the burial place.

– Disperse, the first to go behind the coffin are relatives, – said the leader of the mourning ceremony. But no one listened to him. The grave of the actress was surrounded by a dense ring. Familiar Inna Churikova and simple onlookers mixed up.

– Have you seen any of the stars? one of the women wondered.

– I kind of saw Alexandra Zakharova, she was wearing a fur coat, – the pensioner in glasses nodded in response.

Oh, I missed it, where can I find it now? But then I saw Akhedzhakova here. There she stands, in white…

“It’s not her,” the man snapped sharply. “What, you don’t know Akhedzhakova by sight?”

– Why isn’t she? People told me that she is.

A dispute ensued. With difficulty, it was possible to convince the woman that the actress was not here.

– I saw Akhedzhakova in the temple, she was almost led by the arms. It is unlikely that she would have come here, – the lady in the fur cap summed up …

Close people mourned. The son was crying. Gleb Panfilov frowned.

The coffin with the body of the actress was lowered into the grave.

The husband and son of Inna Churikova did not leave. A woman in a mink coat approached them and began to read a strange prayer from a piece of paper. “Truly, I beg you to forgive the sins of those who have left their bodily vestments and ascended into the spiritual world.” Churikova’s acquaintances looked at each other: “What was that?” (As I found out later, this was the prayer of the Bahá’ís, a monotheistic religion that originated in Iran in the 19th century).

At the same moment, a plump man sang a prayer loudly. And three pensioners unanimously tightened: “Earth in the porthole, earth in the porthole …”.

Then a woman in a motley short fur coat spoke to Churikova’s relatives. She read a poem: “Warmed by your sunny talent, you are the idol of hundreds of thousands of viewers.” Gleb Panfilov listened attentively to the poetess and asked to photograph her for the story.

The people did not disperse for a long time. People discussed the behavior of the deceased’s inner circle. They came to the conclusion: “Probably knew about her illness, they were ready.”

And only one woman grumbled at the grave of Vladimir Menshov: “My favorite actor was trampled today. When will you all finally disperse so that I can clean up.

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