Why was money found at Messing's grave? Wolf Messing's grave

The grave of the famous fortuneteller and psychic Wolf Messing at the Vostryakovskoye cemetery in Moscow is visited by many tourists every year. Some do it out of simple curiosity, others - with the aim of coming into contact with something mystical and mysterious. It is believed that Messing’s grave has a certain energy, almost magical, and its aura can change a person’s life.

The interest in Messing's grave is understandable: he was a very extraordinary person. Wolf Grigorievich Gershikovich, who later took the pseudonym Messing, was born in 1899 in Poland, into a Jewish family. He spent his childhood in Germany. Messing experienced poverty early on; he had to beg on the street. However, it was on the street that a fateful meeting for the boy took place: he met the famous psychiatrist G. Abel. The doctor was amazed by Messing’s gift: he knew how to put people into a borderline state, into a trance, instilling in them his own thoughts. Abel advised Messing to use his gift to advance in life.

As a result, Wolf ended up in a traveling circus. He performed on stage with a “magic” program, reading people’s thoughts.

Messing's biography is as mystical and mysterious as his personality. For example, there is a legend that a psychic predicted the collapse of the Third Reich in the confrontation with the USSR long before the Second World War. This information reached Hitler, who ordered the Gestapo to arrest the circus performer. Messing did not stay in prison for long: after hypnotizing the Gestapo, he escaped from the dungeons, and then from Germany. The USSR became Messing’s new homeland: he loved this country endlessly and was devoted to it until the last days of his life. Unfortunately, Messing's parents and brothers were unable to escape the clutches of the Gestapo: they, along with other Jews, were burned in one of the Warsaw concentration camps.

Messing's psychic talent turned out to be in great demand in the Soviet Union. After his audience with Stalin, Wolf was allowed to make public appearances. For the USSR, this was an unprecedented event: religion was being eliminated in the country, and there was a struggle against sects and mystics.

However, Messing began each speech by explaining the scientific nature of his gift. According to him, telepathic abilities were entirely based on human physiology, on the laws discovered by official science.

During the Second World War, Wolf Messing donated his savings to the Novosibirsk Aviation Plant. These funds were used to build two Yak-7 fighters. One of the planes was handed over to the ace pilot, Hero of the USSR K. Kovalev. After the war, Kovalev became one of Messing's closest friends.

Wolf Grigorievich died in 1974 in Moscow. Vostryakovskoe cemetery was chosen as the burial place of the famous artist. To avoid creating a cult place from Messing’s grave, the authorities prohibited the construction of a monument on it. In the early 90s, at the expense of the descendants of the psychic, a tombstone made of dark granite was installed on the grave.

The fears of the Soviet authorities were confirmed: in our time it is believed that the grave has magical powers. Many people come to remember the great telepath, calling themselves his colleagues and heirs of Messing’s gift.

Video about Wolf Messing:

This man still remains one of the most mysterious and enigmatic personalities of the last century. Today you will find out where Wolf Grigorievich Messing is buried and why Adolf Hitler placed a reward on his head. Was he a real mentalist or was he just fooling people?

Biography

Where Wolf Messing is buried and why the Honored Artist of the RSFSR died will be told a little later, but for now let’s remember where this extraordinary man was born. In the small village of Gura Kalvaria, the devout Gershek raised four sons. The family was poor, and the boys had to work to help their parents. Little Wolf caused a lot of problems with his somnambulism. The father found a good way out of the situation - they placed a basin with cold water in front of the boy’s bed, and lowering his feet to the floor in his sleep, he immersed them in ice water. So over time he got rid of sleepwalking.

The father wanted to make the boy a rabbi and for this he resorted to deception. He hired a tramp who appeared before Wolf in the form of an angel and told him that great things awaited him if he chose this path. However, after several years of study, he escapes to Berlin. On the way, he realizes for the first time that he has hypnosis. Instead of a ticket, he hands the conductor a piece of paper, and at the same time looks into his eyes. The man mistook it for a travel card.

In Berlin

In the capital, the young man had a very bad time: working as a messenger, he could not even earn money for food. After another hungry faint, he was taken to the morgue, where he woke up safely three days later. Psychiatry professor Abel became interested in the unique boy and took him into his home. He successfully teaches Wolf to control his own body and read the thoughts of other people. Soon he was able not only to fall into a lethargic sleep, but also to turn off any painful sensations by force of will.

His first fame came after he became a circus performer. His colleagues hid things in the auditorium, and Messing appeared looking for them and received applause. During the First World War, he traveled all over Europe and returned home. He was already rich and famous, but a great test lay ahead of him. In 1939, the Nazis captured Poland and all the brothers, father and relatives were shot in Majdanek. Wolf managed to leave for the Soviet Union on time.

Not just an artist, but a real Person!

In the union, he continued to perform and demonstrate his psychological experiments. With the money received from the concerts, he was able to sponsor the construction of the Yak-7 fighter. Hero Konstantin Kovalev flew it until the end of the Second World War. Messing became friends with the pilot, and the people appreciated the artist’s patriotic act.

There were more influential people among my acquaintances. Joseph Stalin, although he was skeptical about Messing’s talent, listened to his predictions. In this way he saved the life of his son. Wolf predicted a plane crash, and the Secretary General forbade Vasily to fly with the hockey team. No one survived that disaster.

Under the yoke of power

Messing had, if not friendly, then quite warm relations with Stalin, and his successor became enemy number one for the artist. Nikita Sergeevich took the place of his main enemy. But at the same time I constantly felt his shadow behind me. He made all decisions with caution, and this could not help but strain the head of state. But most of all, Stalin’s authority put pressure on him. He began to make attempts to destroy the cult of the leader and for this he needed the help of Messing. They could not openly announce that the Soviet people were fighting for a tyrant and a murderer, so they had to act in a roundabout way. He forced Messing to speak at a congress, where he had to read out predictions. One of them was the need to remove the leader’s body from the Kremlin. Wolf categorically refused to play with such things - he made predictions only if he was absolutely sure of them. But he was not going to say what was beneficial to Khrushchev. The fall has begun.

Oblivion

Since 1960, Messing began having problems with performances. At first he exchanged huge halls for village clubs, but soon he was barred from going there too. Khrushchev did not forgive disobedience. After the death of his wife, the artist became a recluse. He lived with two lapdogs, whom he doted on. His wife's sister looked after him. Until his death in 1974, he was never able to return to his previous activities.

Wolf Messing: where he is buried and photo of the grave

The artist’s death was not unexpected for him: before leaving for the hospital, he said goodbye to the apartment. The fortuneteller knew that he would not return here again. After successful surgery on his legs, his kidneys failed and his lungs swelled. If you are interested in information about where Wolf Messing is buried and how to get there, you should use the map. His grave is located at the Vostryakovsky cemetery, which can be reached by metro. The stop you need is Southwestern. If you go by ground transport, it is better to choose bus 718, 752 and 720. Route taxis 71 and 91 will also take you to the place where Wolf Messing is buried. The years of his life (1899-1974) and the artist’s portrait on a black granite monument will help identify his grave.

Predictions

Wolf Messing made a large number of predictions, but the most famous prediction was the prophecy about the loss of Nazi Germany in World War II. He even hinted to Hitler that if he turned east, he would be killed. Instead of listening to Messing's words, Adolf declared a hunt for him. A reward of 210 thousand marks was placed on his head (a huge amount at that time).

After this incident, the artist became cautious with his visions, and preferred to keep silent about what he saw in short flashes of insight. All modern forums, websites and other information resources mislead readers - Messing never made any predictions for Russia, and certainly not for every year!

My dad is buried at the Vostryakovsky cemetery. Once, while visiting his grave, I remembered that nearby was the grave of Wolf Messing, the famous hypnotist and telepath, now they would say “psychic.” I decided to find this burial.

This cemetery is popularly called “military”: a lot of war heroes are buried there. But in the section of the cemetery where the desired grave is located, there are many strange and unpleasant tombstones. There are many marble busts depicting powerful women with hairstyles from the 60s and 70s, and men in overly respectable jackets. From the inscriptions it follows that these were directors of shops and warehouses. In those days these were “rich” graves. Only one double tombstone was very different: busts of two identical guys in knitted hats. It turned out that they were brothers, climbers, who died together in the mountains.

I also found the grave of Wolf Messing. No luxury, but clean, neatly tidied up, lots of flowers. Next to it is an image of his beloved wife. The surrounding area is completely deserted. There is a scattering of coins on the ground near the grave. Who put them here and why? I, obeying some impulse, also took out a coin and placed it at the foot of the monument. And then I kept looking at the large portrait of this extraordinary man. What a look he had! It was as if he saw everything that was hidden, all the horror... For a moment, I wanted to find this gift.

And then I noticed that it was already getting dark. How?! After all, I came to the cemetery in the morning! Where did the time go?! I began to quickly get out. And for some reason it seemed to me that the monument heads were turning after me. It became creepy, I rushed between the graves, forgetting which way to go. There are a lot of paths, but all in different directions, and it’s already deep twilight. Again I came across the burial of two brothers. And suddenly it seemed to me that one of them nodded his head slightly, indicating the direction. In a panic, I rushed in that direction and soon came out onto the main alley.

With relief, she slowed down. A cemetery worker walked past with a wheelbarrow, and I suddenly realized what he was thinking about: someone owed him money. But this man walked silently. I felt completely uneasy, and I quickened my pace. I got out of the cemetery and waited for the bus. And once on the bus, I suddenly heard such polyphony! I understood what the passengers were thinking. For some reason I knew that the girl next to me was pregnant at an early stage and was not at all happy about it, and a respectable man in a hat was silently cursing his superiors for something. Further more. My sense of smell sharply sharpened, which was completely unpleasant. I was scared. I realized that I didn’t need this heavy gift that I asked Messing for!

I understood why people threw coins at the foot of his monument. How to get rid of a suddenly acquired gift? For some reason I knew. I went to McDonald's near the metro, grabbed some heavy food and ate and ate as much as I could. My head became heavy. And those feelings began to weaken. I made it home on weak legs. Now I know: before you want something, you should think carefully: do I need it?

Reviews

The story is an example of how mystical ideas arise. I had to attend Messing's performances. He made excellent use of ideomotor reactions on his subjects. A participant in the experiment practically led him by the hand to the place of the hidden object. Guessing the name while his assistant was reading the passports was staged in such a way that it looked like a regular trick.

The daily audience of the Proza.ru portal is about 100 thousand visitors, who in total view more than half a million pages according to the traffic counter, which is located to the right of this text. Each column contains two numbers: the number of views and the number of visitors.

The most outstanding soothsayer of the twentieth century - Wolf Grigorievich Messing - 09/10/1899 - 11/08/1974

Supernatural abilities more than once saved a life - his life, and predicted death - the death of someone else. Leaving no room for either fear or hope... But where is it, is it a divine or a satanic gift, now, in the fall of seventy-four, when the advisors are only fear, and the assistants are completely traditional, not at all supernatural, Soviet medicine? Fate and death came for him in their turn, and in their face, the predictor of the death of the Third Reich, the exorcist of the empire of evil and scientific atheism became a suffering, frightened old man.

On the way, Aida became very ill, and he had to give her injections. When the train arrived in Moscow, he carried her out of the carriage in his arms. But she still refused to go to the hospital, and doctors came to their home. One day, important guests came to their apartment: the director of the Oncology Institute, Nikolai Blokhin, and hematologist Joseph Kassirsky. Blokhin told him that there was no need to despair, the disease could recede, even in this condition, patients sometimes improved and lived for a long time...

He didn’t listen to the end: his hands shook, red spots appeared on his face, his voice, distorted by excitement, broke into falsetto: “Don’t talk nonsense!” I'm not a child, I am! She will not recover, she will die... She will die on the second of August 1960 at seven o'clock in the evening.

On August 2, the famous telepath became a widower.

Aida Mikhailovna died, but it seemed to him that his life was cut short. Nine months of depression, sedatives, vitamins, telegrams of condolences, discreet calls from old acquaintances with whom he did not want to talk. And then a measured, monotonous, maddening existence stretched on.

He, his wife’s sister and two small dogs, Mashenka and Pushinka, lived in a small apartment on Novopeschanaya Street. He got up at eight in the morning and walked the dogs, returned home, read, had breakfast at ten, had dinner at four, then watched TV and was in bed at twelve.

Messing did not go to the theater or go to the cinema; home, tours that became increasingly rare, visits to aging friends who were gradually disappearing from his horizon - the world gradually narrowed to the size of a room, and here he felt comfortable.

He talked to his portrait. He nervously walked around the rooms on old, arthritic legs. Psychic abilities brought him money, fame, made him one of the most mysterious characters of the past century, but could not relieve him of pain.

He could not hide either fear or despair. He tried to hope - not in God, but in doctors. He begged the Soviet government to allow him to call the already famous DeBakey at his own expense (which, of course, was refused).

“That’s it, Wolf. You won’t come back here again,” he said, taking a last look at his portrait. The operation on the femoral and iliac arteries went well - and no one can still explain why the lungs failed a couple of days later, and why the completely healthy kidneys failed.

In early childhood, Wolf suffered from sleepwalking. On clear nights he would get out of bed and look at the moon through his sleeping eyelids. His father cured him: he began to place a trough with cold water at his bedside. The sleepwalking wolf, getting up, fell into the icy water with his feet and woke up. The Moon moves the ebb and flow of the tides, rules over the underground waters of the soul, sleep-non-sleep, sleepwalking, cold water... Trance, clairvoyance and death from disease of the legs that did not come to the call of the Moon.

They say that if a sleepwalker is unsuccessfully awakened, he will die. And so it happened - several decades later.

Diplomas hung on the walls of the office, souvenirs brought from all over the country stood on the bookshelves, and in the corner of the office there was an iron-lined, locked chest - none of the friends knew what was kept in it. It was rumored that Wolf did not trust the savings bank and kept his treasures at home. No one doubted that the treasures existed: Messing made very good money, and a huge diamond sparkled on his right hand.

And on Messing’s desk lay a tattered old prayer book. He did not consider himself a believer, but he had not removed it from the table since he moved into this apartment. The prayer book was given to him by his mother: touching the binding, worn down to the fabric base, the elderly man tried to remember his childhood. It came back in fragments of memories, pieces of pictures that did not add up into a single whole (the father, not yet at all old, bent over the strawberry patch, the mother smiled broadly) and - this was felt most acutely - sensations memorable for decades. Burning pain - my father preferred the rod to any means of education. Thirst, heat, fatigue - my father rented a tiny plot of land in the town of Gura Kalwaria near Warsaw, and both old and young had to work in the garden.

And, finally, the feeling of sacred horror that never visited him again, chilling his blood, raising his hair on end, chaining him to the ground and at the same time enlightening his soul. This is how it was when an angel of God appeared to him: huge, bearded, wrapped in white robes, with terribly sparkling eyes. The angel said: - My son! I was sent to you from above to predict your future service to God. Go to yeshibot (that’s the name of the religious school). God will be pleased with your prayer. And young Messing, who terribly did not want to become a rabbi, submitted to the will of his pious and powerful father.

This is a bad memory, it did not come to him often. At least before. Now everything was different: after performances, he returned to the hotel, took off his jacket, stretched out on the sofa, closed his eyes, dozed off - and woke up from that childhood, long-forgotten feeling. Horror, confusion, anticipation of something great. He woke up and thought it was a premonition of death.

Probably the point was that it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to work - more than seventy years were taking their toll. Halls filled with the public - recreation centers, clubs, provincial philharmonic societies, government institutions. He listens intently to the thoughts of those who give him tasks: he must approach the lady sitting in the front row and congratulate her on her birthday, or find a fountain pen hidden behind a steam heating radiator.

The thoughts of the audience merge, you need to hear the right voice, but someone knocks it down and insists that the handle is hidden under the cabinet. And the other tries to make the telepath look like a fool and asks him to take a flower from his hands and put it in the lady’s neckline. Then he comes to the forefront and says:

The young man in the third row! Yes, you, you, in a gray sweater. Stop it immediately, I'm tired of your shameless thoughts. I show psychological experiments, not an erotic show.

It was exhausting; in my youth such things were easier. There was less equipment, but much more strength. And now Messing was ready to curse his gift: he knew perfectly well what would happen to him in the future, he foresaw the most terrible details. But how could his mystical abilities, which had long become routine, help him, the old man?

They opened suddenly - so that he was afraid of himself. He was shaking under the bench in the third class carriage, listening to the conductor asking passengers for tickets, and was terribly afraid, to the point of convulsions - he did not have a ticket. He will be dropped off at the next stop, he will have to beg at a remote stop, and soon he will die somewhere on the road; the parents will not know about the death of their son, and he will go to another world with their curse. What else does a boy who escaped from yeshibot by breaking into and emptying a church donation cup deserve?

He trembled with horror, but did not regret what he had done: he believed that his parents had betrayed him. Two days ago, a beggar appeared on the threshold of the yeshibot: enormous height, beard, burning eyes - Messing immediately recognized him as the angel who had appeared to him. He realized that his father had deceived him: the beggar became the main character of the home performance, and the shocked boy, who took everything at face value, became the only spectator. And then he decided to leave everything and flee to Berlin. Why exactly to Berlin, and not to Warsaw or Moscow, he, perhaps, could not explain - but no one asked him that...

The carriage rocked on the joints of the rails, shadows rushed along the walls: all the illumination came from two candle stubs in glass lanterns. The conductor looked under the bench and saw Messing:

Young man, your ticket!

And he finally fell into madness. The boy rummaged around, grabbed a piece of newspaper and handed it to the conductor. He desperately wanted him to mistake the dirty piece of paper for a ticket. Their gazes met, Messing shrank from an effort of will, the conductor turned the piece of paper over in his hands and put it into the composter:

Why are you traveling with a ticket under a bench? We'll be there in two hours...

This is how he learned about his abilities, and he was taught to use them in Berlin.

After the performances, people approached Messing. He performed all over the country; to the residents of Kudymkar and Solnechnogorsk, the visiting telepath seemed like a magician. Miners, weavers and workers in factories producing washing machines (harvesters, records, steamers...) asked him about the free and beautiful life of the artist:

Tell me, Comrade Messing, have you really seen the whole world? Have you really been to Paris?

He smiled, nodded, and muttered something vague. By old age, Wolf Messing became a complete pessimist, and the past was pictured to him almost exclusively in black.

Messing returned to the hotel, took off his suit and put on pajamas, drank tea with lemon and lay down on the hard sofa. He recalled his performance and the audience’s stupid remarks: “You have such a bright life!” We must come up with such nonsense! If only you, my dear, would lie in a coffin in a Berlin panopticon and find out what the life of an artist is...

The Berlin panopticon was the most vivid of his memories: just yesterday the boy Wolf lived quietly in the Polish town of Gura Kalwaria under the supervision of a stern father, and now next to him were a bearded woman, ladies who were quickly flirting with visitors - Siamese twins, a strongman juggling huge weights, drawing armsless with legs. And the highlight of the show was him, a “living corpse,” lying without breathing or pulse in a glass coffin. Later, he learned to turn off the pain, and in front of spectators, he pierced his body with long needles (his entrepreneur by that time had gained considerable weight, began to dress with the best tailors and acquired a gold watch). Even later, he began to read minds - and the impresario had his own exit.

It all started when he, barely alive from hunger and fatigue, lost consciousness on a Berlin street. They picked him up, took him to the hospital, and from there sent him to the morgue: the boy had no signs of breathing or pulse, and he had to be taken to the anatomy table. Wolf Messing was lucky: he went to a smart student. He managed to hear a light, barely perceptible noise and realized that the dead man’s heart was beating. On the third day, Messing was brought to his senses by the famous Berlin psychiatrist and neurologist Abel. Messing woke up when he heard the unspoken: “We must report to the police so that they can find the parents of this boy. In the meantime, we will have to send him to a shelter.”

“Don’t send me to a shelter! And there’s no need for the police,” he answered out loud to the thoughts of the amazed luminary of neuropathology.

Abel explained to the boy that he was endowed with a fantastic ability to control his body: in order to preserve his strength, the exhausted Messing fell into catalepsy. He also said that Wolf is an amazing medium.

And the training began: Abel gave him mental orders, and Messing I was looking for a silver coin hidden in the stove.

Having learned to master his gift brilliantly in the professor’s clinic, young Messing gets a job in the Berlin panopticon: he portrays a living dead man. The dead man was raised six days a week for five marks. But soon a successful entrepreneur finds him. Poster stands in Poland and Germany in the early thirties are covered with posters: "Wolf Messing. Catalepsy, hypnosis, transmission and reading of thoughts at a distance and blindfolded. Foresight of the future."

He learned to listen to other people's thoughts, learned to distinguish the one he needed in a choir of simultaneously sounding voices, and for this he became a frequent visitor to the market. Messing walked along the rows and (later he compared this to turning on more and more radio stations) listened to the thoughts of the peasant women. In order to test himself, he approached the counter and said, looking soulfully into the merchant’s eyes:

Don't worry. Your daughter won’t forget to milk the cows and give food to the piglets... She’s smart. The peasant woman squealed and shied away. After a week, the merchants considered him a goblin.

He earned five marks a day and seemed like a rich man. The current Wolf Messing - lonely, having lost faith in everything, burdened by his gift - is infinitely far from this nimble, curious boy discovering the world for the first time.

Twelve-year-old Messing knew for sure that a lot of interesting things awaited him. And he was right.

Thus began the noisy fame that even reached his hometown of Gura Kalwaria: his parents began to receive decent money transfers and were consoled. They even boasted to their neighbors about the letters they received from London, Paris and Buenos Aires. The fat entrepreneur Messing was caught stealing and fired; now he had a real manager who took him all over the world.

In 1915, his first tour took place in Vienna, which became the highlight of the season. It was then that he paid a visit to Einstein, and who was visiting the physicist Sigmund Freud did not fail to test the abilities of the sixteen-year-old boy. Following Freud's mental order, shy Wolf went to the dressing table, took tweezers and... pulled out three gray hairs from the famous mustache of the owner of the house. Taken aback Einstein I just winced in pain. But Sigmund Freud, who was watching the guest’s strange prank, grinned with satisfaction. For, having read the secret thoughts of the founder of psychoanalysis, Messing passed the exam brilliantly.

So about twenty-five years have passed - and what can he remember now? Meetings with Einstein and Freud, who were keenly interested in his abilities? Criminal cases he helped solve? The machinations of competitors who fiercely hated him? A whole life passed, and only a few cases stuck in his memory - he went through them, sitting on the hotel sofa and listening to the voices of his neighbors coming through the cardboard partitions.

Great God, what a contrast: the mooing of a drunken business traveler telling random drinking buddies about his bitch wife, and the exquisitely polite speech of Count Czartoryski, inviting Mr. Messing to go to his ancestral castle on the count’s personal plane! The count's diamond brooch, valued at 800,000 zlotys, disappeared; He trusted his servant, the detectives could not find the thief. Then Czartoryski turned to Messing. He flew to the estate, and was introduced to the servants as an artist. The young man had long hair and an artistically casual suit, and the castle believed it. The servants posed for the artist, Messing listened to their thoughts - they were all honest people. One of the inhabitants of the castle puzzled him: his thoughts were closed, as if they were enveloped in a thick curtain. Messing asked the servants about him, and they told him that the eleven-year-old boy, the son of a footman, had been suffering from dementia since childhood. Clairvoyance could not help here, and he decided to experiment.

The artist draws, the boy poses. The session comes to an end; Messing takes a large shiny gold watch out of his pocket, carelessly twirls it, puts it on the table, leaves the room, tightly closing the door behind him. He freezes at the threshold, clinging to the keyhole: after looking around, the boy rushes to the clock, plays with it, and then runs up to the stuffed bear standing in the corner and puts it into its open mouth! There were also a count's brooch, long-lost rings, silver spoons, and shards of glass. The treasure was valued at one million zlotys. According to the contract, Messing was entitled to 25 percent of its value, but he did not accept the fee. Instead, Wolf made a personal request to the count. Pan Czartoryski was an influential politician: he did not allow the passage of a bill that infringed on the rights of Polish Jews.

In 1937, Messing returned to Poland. On the eve of the war, a woman came to the clairvoyant with a photograph of her brother. He says he went to America and seemed to disappear into the water. Where is he? What about him? Messing had never before had the opportunity to “see” a person from a photograph. And then I immediately felt a satisfied face and well-being.

On the thirteenth day, counting this, you will receive news,” Messing said.

A crowd of curious people, fueled by journalists, gathered on the thirteenth day at this woman’s house. The evening train brought from Philadelphia a long-awaited letter from a successful fellow countryman.

However, there were also misunderstandings. One day, while working on a letter, Messing felt “dead handwriting” and said that the person who wrote it had already died. The mother, dying of grief, mourned her son for a long time. And he returned. And he became very angry with his relatives who believed the first scoundrel they met. The illiterate mother did not know that the news was written not by her son, but by his friend, who soon died.

The wealthy Parisian banker Denadier was going crazy with horror. His wife recently died, he married a beautiful young woman, but she did not get along with his daughter from his first marriage - scandal followed scandal, and in addition, mystical visions began to haunt him. The daughter said that the late mother sees absolutely everything and will never forgive the betrayal, and the portrait of the first wife hanging in the living room in the evenings began to shake her head reproachfully. The old man lost weight, completely turned gray, began to talk, but every evening he went into the living room and sat down in front of the portrait: it seemed to him that his wife wanted to tell him something...

This extravagant incident baffled the Parisian police. We turned to Messing, and he quickly figured out what was going on. The telepath talked to the banker's second wife, chatted with his daughter, and then walked up to the portrait, pulled it strongly towards himself, and everyone saw that a hole had been punched in the wall. A thin silk cord went into it, tied to the inside of the frame; the free end was in the adjacent room, which belonged to the banker's daughter. The second wife and daughter conspired to send the poor man to an insane asylum, and then divide the inheritance... This case hit the newspapers and brought Messing great fame: police all over the world began to invite him for consultations.

He met with the most famous telepath of pre-war Europe, Hitler's future astrologer, the overweight and rude Eric Hanussen. They peered at each other, probed their thoughts, and the enraged German turned away, muttering “Donner-vetter” - Hanussen realized that he had a worthy opponent in front of him. Competitors tried to compromise Messing, but is it possible to deceive someone who reads in other people's souls? He understood what the lady sent to him was thinking, politely apologized, left the room and sent his assistant for the police. The woman conscientiously worked off her fee: she took off her blouse, tore her blouse, grabbed Messing, shouted: “Help, they’re raping me!..” And then she was arrested.

Hanussen predicted the future for Hitler (for which he ultimately paid with his life), Messing became a personal consultant to the Polish dictator, superstitious as a woman, Marshal Pilsudski.

Belvedere Palace, polite adjutants, a gray-haired old man - now the "chief of state", and in the past a conspirator, a political prisoner, a commander who defeated Tukhachevsky near the Warsaw suburbs... The middle-aged Józef Pilsudski was in love with the charming and intelligent Eugenia Levitskaya and feared for her future. After the sudden death of Mrs. Levitskaya, there was talk of poison in Warsaw...

How long ago it was and how far from the city of Kudymkar and the drunken army major vomiting in the hotel corridor!

Messing returned from the tour to his place, on Novopeschanaya Street. It was a bit cramped there, but how much space does an old bachelor and his two dogs need? And yet the time has come to move: the cooperative house on Herzen Street has been completed. The money for the cooperative was donated in the old days, now Wolf Messing had to move closer to the center and settle next to folk and honored artists - the house was considered elite... Things were folded, new owners were already visiting Novopeschanaya, and he still wandered among the suitcases and knots and couldn’t bring myself to go downstairs to the truck parked at the entrance.

She and Aida had lived in this apartment since 1954. She was singled out by Stalin’s personal order. Wolf Messing interested the leader - otherwise his life would have ended more than thirty years ago.

When the German armies entered Poland, he was in Warsaw. A Jew could not survive in a country occupied by the Nazis. But there was another reason that turned him into a game hunted by hunters - a few months ago, at one of his speeches, he was asked what would happen if Hitler attacked Poland. He replied: by turning east, Hitler would die. The Fuhrer was superstitious: after Warsaw fell, posters appeared on the walls of houses. They promised 200,000 marks for Messing's head.

He was arrested right on the street. The officer smiled: “You are Wolf Messing! It was you who predicted the death of the Fuhrer!” - retreated, swung and knocked out six of his teeth with one blow. Messing came to his senses in the punishment cell of the police station, the iron door slammed shut, and he realized: if he failed to leave now, death awaited him. He had one more skill, until now he had not abused it, but now it came in handy. Usually a hypnotist needs to see the person he is working with, but Messing knew how to subjugate people at a distance.

He exerted all his strength and forced the police officers present at the station to come to his cell, plunging his jailers into a trance. Then Messing jumped out of his bed, ran out into the corridor and bolted the iron-lined door. He jumped out of the window of the guardhouse and regained his freedom at the cost of injuring his legs. From Warsaw he was taken on a cart filled with hay to the other side of the Western Bug, to the zone of Soviet occupation, and transported on a fishing boat. A new life began with Messing spending the night in a synagogue filled with refugees; it was still very far from the apartment on Novopeschanaya. He visited the arts department of the city committee and tried to arrange performances; at the May Day demonstration, Messing carried a large portrait of Stalin... The new life seemed strange, but the main thing is that he continued to live. His loved ones were less fortunate; Wolf Messing did not receive news about his father and brothers, but he knew for sure that none of them were there anymore.

Not really knowing the Russian language and not having a specific profession, within six months Messing became extremely popular in the USSR, where in general magicians and telepaths were not favored.

One day Messing was invited to the NKVD club. At the end of the speech, as usual, there were notes from the audience. "What do you think of the Soviet-German Pact?" - he read the unsigned piece of paper. The speaker thought for a moment and looked somewhere unknown.

I see tanks with red stars on the streets of Berlin!

There was deathly silence in the hall. The matter really smelled of big trouble. Even the back-pack craftsmen from Lubyanka lost their nerves.

The Molotov-Ribbentrop non-aggression pact was then presented as a triumph of Stalinist policy. Everywhere they praised the wise father of nations, who saved the country from war. And suddenly loudly declare Soviet tanks in Berlin?! And to whom? NKVD investigators!!!

It seemed that Messing's song was finished. But, to the surprise of many, he was not touched. By personal order of Stalin himself. Why did the ruthless dictator do this? This will remain a secret forever. But Messing was left alive and, the strangest thing, was not even arrested.

Maybe they were afraid of him?

We are unlikely to ever know the truth about the meetings of the Father of Nations with the clairvoyant and their conversations. This topic is generally special, full of legends and rumors, speculation and facts. But it is known how they met.

Rumors about the great Wolf Messing reached the Kremlin, and Stalin asked to find this man. The timid Messing demonstrated tricks incomprehensible even to great minds. Stalin was silent, puffing on his pipe. Then he suddenly said quietly: “You can rob a bank like that.” “It’s possible,” Messing answered.

They assigned security men to him and sent him “on a mission”: to steal 100 thousand rubles from the Moscow State Bank. Here's how Messing himself talks about it: “I went up to the cashier, handed him a pristine piece of paper, torn from a school notebook. Then I laid out an ordinary folder for papers in front of the window and began to mentally order the cashier to pay me the amount of money indicated by Stalin. The elderly man looked attentively.” He studied the paper, opened the safe without any doubt and counted out the money. Messing calmly put them in his suitcase and went to the exit, where the NKVD officers who were monitoring the experiment were waiting for him. When the amount was checked and they were convinced that the task was completed, Messing returned to the cash register and began laying out banknotes. The cashier looked at the blank sheet of paper and fainted.

Information has also been preserved about another test: Messing had to enter Stalin’s dacha in Kuntsevo without a pass. Stalin himself considered this clearly impossible and incredible. But Messing reached Stalin, and the guards, who consisted entirely of NKVD officers, looked at him with respect and saluted. Stalin could not hide his surprise: how did he manage to do this? Messing claimed that he telepathically suggested to all the guards that Beria was coming. Although I didn’t try to be like him - I didn’t even put on the famous pince-nez. By the way, Lavrentiy Beria himself, Stalin’s main assistant, knew very well about the phenomenal Polish emigrant who could read minds and wordlessly suggest anything to his interlocutor. He dreamed of such an employee. But nothing came of it.

One day, Beria’s people unceremoniously disrupted Wolf Messing’s performance. In the middle of the concert, they took me off stage, demanding that I immediately go to the boss. “Now they will issue you a pass.” Messing gently hinted that if Beria wanted to see some tricks, then he didn’t have to issue a pass, saying, I’ll get through anyway. In an impregnable, all-powerful department - without a pass? An unthinkable thing! But Messing passed. Beria rose from the table. He extended his finger - that’s how he usually greeted.

Sorry, my hand hurts,” answered the newcomer.

A mighty finger hung in the air.

When Messing told Beria that he did not have a pass, he was very surprised and amazed. Outraged by the carelessness of the guards, saying goodbye to Messing after the meeting, he decided to check him again. He strictly warned that no one should be allowed out of the building without documents. Wolf Messing left the office, walked through three rows of guards and, calmly going out into the street, whether out of mischief, or perhaps to show self-confidence, seeing Beria in the window, he waved his hand from below.

Judge for yourself: why does Beria need an employee who walks everywhere unhindered and uncontrolled. And he can instill any idea in the boss’s mind. And, God forbid, he can read other people’s thoughts! Beria had his own personal astrologer who predicted the development of upcoming events for him. But that's a completely different matter...

He remembered his life and hesitated, not daring to leave the apartment on Novopeschanaya. In 1944, while on tour in Novosibirsk, he met and fell in love with a woman; he declared his love to her in broken Russian; Aida Mikhailovna became his assistant, then his wife. When the war ended, he and Aida moved to Moscow. For the first four years, their home was a hotel room, then they got their own nest... Fifteen years together - a whole life! Now all that remains of it are yellowed photographs, packed in one of the bundles. We must thank fate for this too: he could have been killed in Warsaw, he could have been ground into powder here in Moscow.

Oh, you are a cunning one, Messing!

And yours:

I'm not the cunning one. You really are a cunning one.

And what they talked about later, during other meetings, Messing did not mention at all. There were rumors in Moscow that Messing advised against Stalin's beloved son Vasily from flying to Sverdlovsk with the Air Force hockey team. His father told him to go by train - and Vasily reached Sverdlovsk safe and sound. And the plane crashed, and all the hockey players died. But should you believe gossip?

Be that as it may, the leader allowed him to live - and even with some comfort.

Messing acquired a reputation as Stalin's personal soothsayer, a kind of Soviet Eric Hanusen. The reputation is completely groundless: Stalin did not take advantage of Messing’s abilities. But why did the secretary general, suspicious to the point of paranoia, ignore the opportunity to penetrate the thoughts of those around him? Afraid that Messing with his gift would be stronger than himself, would charm the army and intelligence services, weave a conspiracy, organize a coup? That it is impossible to keep someone who left the Kremlin without a pass, crossed the Soviet border, or escaped from the German commandant’s office in any prison? And decided to pay off?

No. It was Messing who had to pay off Stalin. During the war, the famous hypnotist, who received considerable income from his performances, was offered to build an airplane for the Soviet army at his own expense. Since the victory of the USSR was a foregone conclusion even without its expenses, Messing refused. After which he was arrested and accused of espionage. Surprisingly, this time his abilities failed him - the Soviet guardsmen, unlike their German colleagues, were not suggestible. Messing agreed to build the plane, and the charges were dropped.

Here he did the usual thing - he tried to save his life. I decided to cross the Soviet-Iranian border and found a guide. The soul of the Soviet man again turned out to be inaccessible to hypnosis: the conductor knocked in a disciplined and prompt manner, about which Messing remained blissfully unaware. Messing was detained at the border and offered to build another plane. Which he did with considerable enthusiasm. He realized that the border of this empire was crossed only once and only in one direction.

Stalin did not need a “court magician”. Mind reading? Stalin himself knew well the thoughts and feelings of his entourage, whose fear was so deep that it left no room for either love or hatred. He did not delude himself about them and did not believe in the evil intentions of those accused of espionage and conspiracies. To do this, it was necessary to recognize their at least courage. He executed more for preventive purposes - he beat exclusively his own, because the strangers had long been killed. Divination of the future? The failed priest was wise enough not to ask about what no one can change. He only wanted to win, to “re-enchant” Messing, to prove that Stalin’s will and power were stronger than the gift of the famous seer, that Messing lived not by supernatural protection, but by his, Stalin’s, grace.

Messing lost the mental duel with totalitarianism. Behind Hitler and Stalin stood the prince of this world, but Messing represented only himself. In the battle with the eyelid, he lost only six teeth and savings, but this was luck. The gift is not that rare, but sometimes more supernatural than hypnosis and telepathy.

Now this too was a thing of the past. He felt that his journey was coming to an end, and delayed the final farewell to the old house: ahead was a black hole, a long, hateful, painful existence...

Then he had something to fight for: on one side of the scale there was death, on the other - love and a happy family life; he knew for sure that he would have them...

He did not want to use his gift for evil, but he never learned to do good. In the questionnaires, in the “profession” column, he wrote: “pop artist.” It became his lot to entertain the crowd. He performed hundreds of thousands of miracles, similar to one another, like scales or school grammar exercises. He carried out telepathic instructions from Stalin, many anonymous people from the audience, Austrians, Germans, Poles and fellow citizens who expected shocks and revelations, according to the price of the ticket. He's been reading stupid thoughts all his life. He didn't want to make the world worse, but he couldn't make it better. In his last years, he suffered just as painfully from the fear of death, like each of those born and dead. His death did not have that greatness and peace that distinguishes saints and philosophers. People who, during their lifetime, were given a revelation about what awaits us on the other side. Yes, he predicted his death - however, in the end, all people over seventy-five do this, only with a lesser degree of accuracy.

Wolf Messing once again looked around the room devastated by the move, shrugged his shoulders and went down to the car. He had to live and work without thinking that on October 8, 1974, his kidneys would fail and he would die from pulmonary edema.

Post Scriptum

Even Freud, who immortalized his name by studying the human psyche, could not explain the Messing phenomenon. Although Messing himself has repeatedly emphasized that there is nothing supernatural in his phenomenon. He didn’t even read thoughts - he saw them: “It’s very difficult to be a mystery to yourself. People are just moving towards telepathy. The fact is that everyone has such abilities, only to varying degrees, and they need to be developed. It’s all the same "as well as musical talent. Many can play various instruments, but only a few can play virtuoso."

Messing had no patrons or teachers. He once jokingly said: I have no choice but to sacredly believe in my talisman - a diamond ring. One day the ring was stolen. Messing was very upset. Friends consoled: there will be, with your abilities. He replied that that was not the point, he knew who stole it. But there is no proof. Literally a week later, Messing died. Now he was powerless before death.

When Messing died, Soviet doctors, said academician L. Badalyan, carefully studied his brain, trying to uncover the secret of the great predictor. They were disappointed - nothing special was discovered. Brain is like a brain. The secrets of an amazing phenomenon, unsolved to this day,Wolf Messing carried to his grave . Wolf Messing and his wife Aida Mikhailovna Messing-Rapoport were buried in Moscow at the Vostryakovskoye cemetery.

How to find Messing's grave

The central entrance to the cemetery (that part of the cemetery where the office is located). From the gate, straight along the alley until the end of school 39. (he is on the right hand). An additional landmark is a beautiful white marble monument to L. Utesov’s wife. Having reached the end of section 39, turn right and walk strictly along the left side (this is section 38). It is important not to miss the landmark - a large black stone near the road with the names Melman, Zozulya, Urina. Having reached it, turn left onto the path deeper into the site; on the left you will see a tall black monument. This is the monument to Messing. Next to him is another with a white female head - a monument to his wife Aida Mikhailovna Messing-Rapoport.

Wolf Messing is the greatest mystery of the twentieth century, a great telepath, hypnotist and people's artist. This is an iconic figure who was in many ways ahead of his time and surpassed politicians. It still excites the imagination of ordinary people and forces crowds of tourists to visit the Vostryakovskoye cemetery in Moscow every year.

Messing was born in September 1899 in Poland. From his youth, Wolf Grigorievich participated in performances with illusionists. Later he mastered variety telepathy (the ability to read thoughts through the hand).

Messing's faithful companion and assistant was Aida Mikhailovna Messing-Rapoport, who was with her husband until her death.

Not a single reliable evidence of Messing’s genius has been found; his adventures are considered nothing more than a talented hoax.

Miracle or talented bluff

Einstein and Freud admired the name of Messing, Stalin took his opinion into account, and they say that Hitler was afraid of him, who wanted to get the head of this man, since Wolf Messing inadvertently predicted his fate in the event of a war between Germany and the USSR.

Stalin more than once invited Messing to his place to personally verify his abilities. One day, the leader ordered Messing to come to a reception in the Kremlin, while forbidding anyone from the security and inner circle to let the Pole through. Nevertheless, with the help of his hypnotic abilities, Messing easily came to Stalin, which greatly surprised the leader; moreover, he also left the walls of the Kremlin, passing by the alarmed guards.

Road to death

Messing lived more than 75 years. Attempts were made on his life more than once, since some politicians, both Soviet and foreign, were sincerely afraid of the Soviet predictor.

During World War II, Wolf Grigorievich injured both legs. Messing underwent a series of operations on his hips, followed by an operation on the iliac arteries, which, according to medical records, was successful and ended with the patient’s recovery. However, despite successful operations, Wolf Grigorievich Messing died on November 8, 1974 as a result of pulmonary edema and complete kidney failure. It is still unclear what caused the sharp deterioration in Wolf Grigorievich’s health. Some believe that they deliberately wanted to kill him, others believe that everything is due to the telepath’s considerable age.

Messing at Vostryakovsky cemetery. Even during his lifetime, Messing repeatedly said that he certainly wanted to rest next to his beloved wife Aida Mikhailovna Messing-Rapoport. At Messing’s grave in plot 38, which united the spouses, there is a tall marble monument. There is a bas-relief on her grave, and a portrait print on his. Nearby is a white monument to Utesov’s wife. This is what tourists focus on.

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