Zutler, a pensioner who lived alone, died along with her 37-year-old niece, Irina Fleishman.
Hours before the early morning blast, Zutler entertained guests for her birthday. After her friends and family left, Fleishman, who lived in a distant part of town, stayed with her aunt overnight to avoid a lengthy late-night journey.
Four days later, Lazar officiated at the funerals of Zutler and Fleishman at Vostraykovo Cemetery, Moscow’s only graveyard with a separate Jewish section.
Fleishman, whose body was found in the rubble three days after the explosion, was buried in the same grave as her aunt.
“If they were destined to leave together, they should lie together,” said Zutler’s son, Arkady. He described his mother as the “heart of the whole family.”
He recalled that on Sept. 13, he was awakened at 5 a.m. by a terrible sound. He called his mother, who lived across the street, to find out what happened.
“I thought she could not be asleep either.” But there was no answer.
He was the first at the scene only a few minutes after the blast, clambering up the ruins of what moments earlier was a nine-story residential building.
“I realized at once that I lost them.”