The event referred to here took place nearly 60 years ago, in September 1958. The author of the main biography of Elder Sebastian [ Fomin ], Tatiana Vladimirovna Torstensen, relates the following sequence. She had become a spiritual daughter of this Elder. A physician at a Karaganda hospital, heading an entire division related to therapy of some type which she does not specify, she needed to return to Moscow, a gigantic distance away by train. She was in a hurry to
set up housing for herself as papers had arrived showing her to be 'rehabilitated' - ridiculous Communist jargon. Thus her exile in Kazakhstan ended. One can well imagine how appealing it would have been to return to life in the busy capital after having been in a provincial Soviet backwater.
However, buying the actual ticket itself was a grueling process. One had to wait in line all night outdoors in the cold steppe climate. An actual roll call was made by officials every 2 hours to ensure that all passengers did not slip away and return in the morning. Sounds like a planned torture on the part of the railway and government administration, just another way to wear down the citizens of the USSR.
So Tatiana stayed awake all through the night. Nearly freezing, she was barely able to collect the prized ticket in the morning and head to her shift at the hospital without evem a moment's rest. When she went to tell Elder Sebastian how fortunate she found herself to be, he offered to serve a moleben for her safe trip. He hesitated, though : "What day is the ticket for ?"
When the physician said Wednesday, the former cell attendant of Elders Joseph and Nektary looked up to Heaven. He insisted in the strictest tone that it was the wrong day -- too early -- and that his spiritual daughter must return the hard-won ticket. Imagine how disappointing that would be to hear after all she had endured to obtain a second-class ticket. [ Probably the 3rd class tickets were much easier to get, being less desirable. If anyone has traveled on Russian trains 'plaskart' [ spelling ? ], they can imagine why anyone would covet a nicer class ticket. ] Tatiana objected strenuously but finally gave in when her Elder began to get angry and ordered her to go the station that minute, hand in her ticket, and return to Church for the end of the service.
However, to her immense surprise, he blessed her immediately to purchase another ticket. He assured her that she would not have to spend the night in the downtown station again. It all went as he said, and this time, she effortlessly obtained a good 2nd class ticket ; perhaps even a better one.
When her train approached the Volga River and stopped at a station called Chapayevsk, the doctor noticed that all her fellow passengers were jumping out of their seats. Pressing their noses against the train windows, they were staring in horror at the next track over. Curious, Tatiana got up to look. She saw a long line of passenger train carriages piled up in a jumble, with some cars on end, perched vertically in the air. The pictures from Panhandle, Texas show something like the scene the Orthodox physician beheld.
The carriage's conductor informed the passengers that this had been the express train leaving Karaganda on the previous Wednesday. It had run straight into the back of a freight train, the woman told them, causing the terrible scene of wreckage.
Needless to say, Tatiana Vladimirovna was exceedingly glad she had obeyed the Elder, who had a rare gift of true clairvoyance inherited from the great line of Optina Elders he had faithfully served in his youth.