The town of working youth
History and fate firmly linked Kunayev to our city. Even in his most senior positions, Dinmukhamed Akhmedovich never forgot the city of his working youth and its people, always supporting the development of our city's production and social sphere. As the republic's first leader, he visited Leninogorsk three times—May 13, 1974, September 22, 1982, and December 20-21, 1985—to meet with residents and work collectives.
In his book, "About My Time," Dinmukhamed Akhmedovich recalls: "I will never forget the time I worked in Ridder-Leninogorsk, the largest ancient industrial center of Kazakhstan. I remember with gratitude all the engineering, technical, and labor workers with whom I had the opportunity to fulfill this responsible and honorable task in those pre-war years and during the war." From his memoirs, we learn about his work as a student intern, as a mine manager, and his encounters with famous people.
In Ridder, he and his wife found their first family home. A modest lifestyle didn't bother the young couple. Their most treasured possessions were books, and their greatest privilege was two seats at the Tsvetnikov Club movie theater, which the ticket attendant always left open for them.
In Leninogorsk with young wife Zukhra Sharipovna
"When Zukhra Sharipovna and I arrived in Ridder, we had no apartment or household belongings. We were given a two-room suite at the Altai Hotel. In December, we moved into an apartment. Our four-apartment building was on Beregovaya Street. Our apartment was small but very cozy, on two levels. We occupied two rooms on the second floor, and the district mechanic, Zubarev, lived in one room downstairs. Our neighbors were the secretary of the city committee, the director of a neighboring mine, and the head of the mining inspection.
The company's management department temporarily lent us a bed, a table, and a few chairs. In the small courtyard of the building, Zukhra Sharipovna began gardening in the spring. With the money we got, we bought a cow and the necessary gardening and kitchen tools. We now had our own vegetables, milk, and butter. The apartment was also convenient because the window overlooked the Grigoryevskaya Mine's headframe. Sitting at home, I could monitor the progress of the mining operation by the movement and rotation of the pulleys on the headframe. Any malfunction or emergency at the mine, and I would be on the scene without any messengers."
The house where D. A. Kunayev lived from 1939 to 1942 in Ridder-Leninogorsk
Back in 1934, while still a student at the Moscow Institute of Non-Ferrous Metals and Gold, he completed an internship in Ridder: "I was familiar with the Ridder enterprises from my student years: I completed an internship there in 1934. At the mine, we interns had to work as miners, timberers, and haulers. We learned well then what it was like to be a miner. Martynov, who was supervising the capital works, suggested that we conduct an inventory of the pipes and determine how many kilometers of air ducts were laid in the mine. We took on the task with great enthusiasm. We went through everything with a tape measure, including the suppressed horizons, and provided precise data on the mine's air ducts. Judging by everything, we worked professionally, because we received gratitude from the mine management and, importantly for students, we were well paid.
During my internship, I met P. P. Burov, a renowned geologist not only from Ridder but from the entire Rudny Altai region. He spoke enthusiastically about the Ridder deposit, and, to his credit, his forecast for the region's development was completely vindicated.
"Leaders of the CPC Central Committee, the regional committee, and the Ministry of Non-Ferrous Metallurgy often came to Ridder. The regional committee secretary, Rvantsev, a metallurgical engineer and an old acquaintance of mine, would visit us two or three times a year. One day, he arrived, accompanying Shayakhmetov, the second secretary of the CPC Central Committee. I knew Shayakhmetov from the newspapers, but I had never met him personally. I met Shayakhmetov and Rvantsev at the mine. As usual, I invited the guests down to the working face to introduce them to the working methods of the mine's leading miners. We descended to the ninth level of the mine, where the renowned innovative driller Tayzhanov worked. Tayzhanov was well versed in drilling equipment. He demonstrated methods of multi-perforator and wet drilling. An interesting detail: Tayzhanov was a highly skilled worker, a master of his craft, who had worked in the mine for many years, but... he didn't speak a word of Russian. The workers teased him because his wife was Russian. They teased him: how do you communicate with her, with your fingers?
Shayakhmetov thanked Tayzhanov for his good work and wished him continued success. After touring the mine, Shayakhmetov gathered the city's enterprise leaders at the city party committee and congratulated them on their work and the opportunity to learn about industrial operations.
A meeting with Mukhtar Auezov in Ridder was unexpected. I hadn't met him before, but I knew him well as a prominent writer, playwright, and scholar. I met Auezov at the mine. That day, I was holding a reception for personal matters. Then I was told that "someone named Auezov" wanted to meet with me. I immediately went out to invite him into his office. He was sitting among the visitors, animatedly conversing with them. He was dressed in work clothes and boots.
We talked for several hours. He was interested in the history of Ridder, the work of the first business managers, and how the miners' lives had changed after the concessionaires left. He was interested in the workers' biographies, the problems of the mines—and we discussed many other things with Mukhtar Omarkhanovich.
In 1940, preparations were underway for the elections to the Supreme Soviet of the USSR. Our collective, as the republic's leading enterprise, was allowed to nominate First Secretary of the Communist Party of China (CPC) Central Committee Skvortsov as a candidate, and he agreed to run in our district. Skvortsov arrived for the meeting with voters with a substantial entourage. He asked me how I felt in Altai after the heat of Balkhash. Without waiting for my answer, he addressed everyone and said loudly, "The Central Committee was right to send Kunayev to work in Ridder." I thanked him for his kind words.
Back in 1934, while still a student at the Moscow Institute of Non-Ferrous Metals and Gold, he completed an internship in Ridder: "I was familiar with the Ridder enterprises from my student years: I completed an internship there in 1934. At the mine, we interns had to work as miners, timberers, and haulers. We learned well then what it was like to be a miner. Martynov, who was supervising the capital works, suggested that we conduct an inventory of the pipes and determine how many kilometers of air ducts were laid in the mine. We took on the task with great enthusiasm. We went through everything with a tape measure, including the suppressed horizons, and provided precise data on the mine's air ducts. Judging by everything, we worked professionally, because we received gratitude from the mine management and, importantly for students, we were well paid.
During my internship, I met P. P. Burov, a renowned geologist not only from Ridder but from the entire Rudny Altai region. He spoke enthusiastically about the Ridder deposit, and, to his credit, his forecast for the region's development was completely vindicated.
"Leaders of the CPC Central Committee, the regional committee, and the Ministry of Non-Ferrous Metallurgy often came to Ridder. The regional committee secretary, Rvantsev, a metallurgical engineer and an old acquaintance of mine, would visit us two or three times a year. One day, he arrived, accompanying Shayakhmetov, the second secretary of the CPC Central Committee. I knew Shayakhmetov from the newspapers, but I had never met him personally. I met Shayakhmetov and Rvantsev at the mine. As usual, I invited the guests down to the working face to introduce them to the working methods of the mine's leading miners. We descended to the ninth level of the mine, where the renowned innovative driller Tayzhanov worked. Tayzhanov was well versed in drilling equipment. He demonstrated methods of multi-perforator and wet drilling. An interesting detail: Tayzhanov was a highly skilled worker, a master of his craft, who had worked in the mine for many years, but... he didn't speak a word of Russian. The workers teased him because his wife was Russian. They teased him: how do you communicate with her, with your fingers?
Shayakhmetov thanked Tayzhanov for his good work and wished him continued success. After touring the mine, Shayakhmetov gathered the city's enterprise leaders at the city party committee and congratulated them on their work and the opportunity to learn about industrial operations.
A meeting with Mukhtar Auezov in Ridder was unexpected. I hadn't met him before, but I knew him well as a prominent writer, playwright, and scholar. I met Auezov at the mine. That day, I was holding a reception for personal matters. Then I was told that "someone named Auezov" wanted to meet with me. I immediately went out to invite him into his office. He was sitting among the visitors, animatedly conversing with them. He was dressed in work clothes and boots.
We talked for several hours. He was interested in the history of Ridder, the work of the first business managers, and how the miners' lives had changed after the concessionaires left. He was interested in the workers' biographies, the problems of the mines—and we discussed many other things with Mukhtar Omarkhanovich.
In 1940, preparations were underway for the elections to the Supreme Soviet of the USSR. Our collective, as the republic's leading enterprise, was allowed to nominate First Secretary of the Communist Party of China (CPC) Central Committee Skvortsov as a candidate, and he agreed to run in our district. Skvortsov arrived for the meeting with voters with a substantial entourage. He asked me how I felt in Altai after the heat of Balkhash. Without waiting for my answer, he addressed everyone and said loudly, "The Central Committee was right to send Kunayev to work in Ridder." I thanked him for his kind words.
D. A. Kunayev and V. Nozdrachev at the coalface. 1940
During the war, our primary goal was to quickly bring the richest sections into production, improving production technology and techniques while preventing predatory mining methods. The organization of intense labor and Stakhanovite methods became an immutable law, guaranteeing plan fulfillment. The spirit of the times demanded stronger discipline and order in every section, every workshop. Leading workers increased ore production day after day.
And the front demanded ever greater efforts from us. It seemed that all reserves had been tapped, tension within the teams had reached a fever pitch; just a little more, it seemed, and the taut bowstring would snap... But no. And I have been convinced of this more than once in my long life: the reserves of the human spirit are inexhaustible. And, therefore, its deeds are also limitless. I could recount dozens and hundreds of engineering solutions that you wouldn't find in any books or dissertations, the ingenuity that prompted and led us, specialists, to the most daring projects implemented in production—our minds pulsed and spewed forth ideas daily, hourly. These were years of unrestrained brainstorming.
We struggled with problems day and night. Sometimes we'd work together for two or three days at a time, and, as a rule, we found what we were looking for. The imperative—everything for the front, everything for victory—was subordinated to this demand, and above all, the dedicated work of the miners. For me, this time was more than stressful. Many unexpected things arose, we had to be constantly on the lookout, consult with shop managers, and spend more time with work teams. But difficulties were overcome, a fighting spirit was created, and an atmosphere that excluded the words "no" and "we can't." Our motto and principle at work became: "If we must, we will do it."
During the war, our primary goal was to quickly bring the richest sections into production, improving production technology and techniques while preventing predatory mining methods. The organization of intense labor and Stakhanovite methods became an immutable law, guaranteeing plan fulfillment. The spirit of the times demanded stronger discipline and order in every section, every workshop. Leading workers increased ore production day after day.
And the front demanded ever greater efforts from us. It seemed that all reserves had been tapped, tension within the teams had reached a fever pitch; just a little more, it seemed, and the taut bowstring would snap... But no. And I have been convinced of this more than once in my long life: the reserves of the human spirit are inexhaustible. And, therefore, its deeds are also limitless. I could recount dozens and hundreds of engineering solutions that you wouldn't find in any books or dissertations, the ingenuity that prompted and led us, specialists, to the most daring projects implemented in production—our minds pulsed and spewed forth ideas daily, hourly. These were years of unrestrained brainstorming.
We struggled with problems day and night. Sometimes we'd work together for two or three days at a time, and, as a rule, we found what we were looking for. The imperative—everything for the front, everything for victory—was subordinated to this demand, and above all, the dedicated work of the miners. For me, this time was more than stressful. Many unexpected things arose, we had to be constantly on the lookout, consult with shop managers, and spend more time with work teams. But difficulties were overcome, a fighting spirit was created, and an atmosphere that excluded the words "no" and "we can't." Our motto and principle at work became: "If we must, we will do it."
Dinmukhamed Kunayev during his work in Ridder. A tour of the mine.
While working in the Council of People's Commissars, and then in the Central Committee, I often visited Leninogorsk, and these trips were always a joy. I jealously and meticulously followed all the changes in the city and helped it in any way I could. (In 1959, the people of Leninogorsk elected me as a deputy to the Supreme Soviet of the Republic.) The pride of the people of Leninogorsk, and mines alike, are the large non-ferrous metallurgy enterprises: the Ridder, Leninogorsk, 40th Anniversary of the Komsomol, and Tishinsky mines, processing plants, lead and zinc plants, a repair and mechanical base, and other enterprises. Leninogorsk is a major center where new methods, new technologies for ore mining and beneficiation, and the processing of raw materials to produce high-quality lead, zinc, and other metals are being developed in collaboration with scientists. The city itself has been transformed, expanded, and risen, with wide and beautiful avenues, parks, and squares.
I love this city, and that's why I perhaps describe its successes in unnecessary detail.
While working in the Council of People's Commissars, and then in the Central Committee, I often visited Leninogorsk, and these trips were always a joy. I jealously and meticulously followed all the changes in the city and helped it in any way I could. (In 1959, the people of Leninogorsk elected me as a deputy to the Supreme Soviet of the Republic.) The pride of the people of Leninogorsk, and mines alike, are the large non-ferrous metallurgy enterprises: the Ridder, Leninogorsk, 40th Anniversary of the Komsomol, and Tishinsky mines, processing plants, lead and zinc plants, a repair and mechanical base, and other enterprises. Leninogorsk is a major center where new methods, new technologies for ore mining and beneficiation, and the processing of raw materials to produce high-quality lead, zinc, and other metals are being developed in collaboration with scientists. The city itself has been transformed, expanded, and risen, with wide and beautiful avenues, parks, and squares.
I love this city, and that's why I perhaps describe its successes in unnecessary detail.
1985 year
D. Kunaev at the zinc plant in 1985
Ridder mine, 1985
Zinc plant 1985
Ridder mine, 1985
Laying flowers at the Glory Obelisk, 1985
To speak of my time means to speak of my contemporaries, who lived through all the most difficult periods of our history.
And today, it brings me great satisfaction to know that the many years of creative work of these people were not in vain. Their positive experience cannot be discarded, it must not be lost; many of its results can still be celebrated, despite all the costs and distortions along our historical path. Essentially, it paved the way for and built that enormous, "weighty and visible" economic, political, and cultural potential that now gives Kazakhstan every opportunity to confidently follow, based on national identity, a renewed path toward achieving a truly democratic, sovereign state.
Book "About My Time," July 1991
Photo from the museum's collection
Prepared by museum's specialist S. Nikiforova
To speak of my time means to speak of my contemporaries, who lived through all the most difficult periods of our history.
And today, it brings me great satisfaction to know that the many years of creative work of these people were not in vain. Their positive experience cannot be discarded, it must not be lost; many of its results can still be celebrated, despite all the costs and distortions along our historical path. Essentially, it paved the way for and built that enormous, "weighty and visible" economic, political, and cultural potential that now gives Kazakhstan every opportunity to confidently follow, based on national identity, a renewed path toward achieving a truly democratic, sovereign state.
Book "About My Time," July 1991
Photo from the museum's collection
Prepared by museum's specialist S. Nikiforova