Shared thoughts on Ivan Soskov (1954-2013)

Just after midnight on the first day of orthodox Easter, Ivan Soskov passed away as a result of an allergic shock to a bee sting. I was a witness to roughly half of Ivan’s 59 years and am slowly getting used to his absence while thinking about Ivan’s path in life and sense of purpose and mission. Once, when he was about thirty years old, had left behind the careless days of his youth, and had recently defended his doctoral dissertation, he had discussed the issue of a purpose in life with friends and wondered whether he would be able to live his life in a way that would earn him the naming of a street. In the spring of 2013, Ivan and I were talking about his roots and Ivan was in a talkative mood. He had just submitted his (unfortunately, last) paper and told me that he is resigning from thinking about maths. Both his maternal and his paternal families come from Southern Bulgaria. When I ask him whether they were war refugees, he answers: “No, they weren’t, they had always lived there, simply natives.” His maternal grandfather, Georgi Rafailov (cf. Figure 1), was a notary’s son from Nova Zagora. “It is interesting that my great-grandfather managed to support my grandfather as a student in Paris with a modest salary of a small town notary. Would that be possible today?”