­The front page mainstream grief about the death of stars always makes me ask myself the question – how does that affect me?  Here’s my personal experience with the songs of Whitney Houston back in the 80s.

Unlike many other western popular hits, her songs came to the USSR on a licensed LP in 1986 – somebody in the government enjoyed her music so much that he gave the green light to make songs  like All at Once and How Will I Know? known all over the country. Her aunt, Dionne Warwick had the same “luck” – these two Soviet LPs of Аfro-Аmerican female singers appeared long before the official Soviet releases of the Rolling Stones and the Beatles.

The first time I heard Whitney’s songs was in the Soviet Army, for two years. It was not very easy to get the LP – but my friends bought it through connections, then copied it onto tape and brought it to my military unit. By the time the tape arrived all of the soldiers and officers knew my infatuation with English and American studies – I was trying hard not to forget English words and phrases during military service – otherwise it would be hard to continue my studies at university.

But one officer was a problem – he always got angry when he heard any song in a foreign language. He was the chief of the “osoby otdel” – the special military investigation unit. This Major was suspicious of me – partly because of my knowledge of English. As he said, it was “the language of the most probable enemy in a nuclear war”.

When he wanted to give me a hard time, this Major always made me translate things from books and songs – just to check there was nothing “anti-Soviet” there. One morning, it was the turn of Whitney’s song All at Once to be checked for “political correctness”.

All at once
I finally took a moment.
And I'm realizing that
You're not coming back.
And it's finally hit me all at once.

The Major grew more and more romantic as he kept listening to the translation of the refrain:

All at once, I'm drifting on a lonely sea.
Holding on to memories.
And it's hurt me more than you know.
So much more than it shows.
All at once.

“Very sad song!” the officer said. “Could she be happier in the USSR? What do you think?”

I was really stunned by the question and just shrugged. “Go and practice your English,” he told me.

After all these 25 years I’m still grateful to the officer – I did not forget my English during military service. Partly, it was thanks to Whitney Houston.