Throughout history, humanity has gazed at the stars, wondering what mysteries lie beyond. But for Sergey Kiselyov, a quiet man from the Russian city of Chelyabinsk, the cosmos quite literally came crashing down into his life in 2013. In one of the most extraordinary—and painful—cosmic coincidences, Sergey became one of the very few people in history to be hit by a meteorite.

The Chelyabinsk Event: A Cosmic Spectacle

On February 15, 2013, the people of Chelyabinsk were greeted by a once-in-a-lifetime spectacle. A meteor, estimated to be about 20 metres wide and weighing over 12,000 tonnes, entered Earth’s atmosphere at a blistering speed of 60,000 kilometres per hour. The fireball lit up the sky with a brightness rivaling the sun and was visible for hundreds of kilometres.

Moments later, the meteor exploded in the atmosphere with the force of approximately 30 atomic bombs. The resulting shockwave shattered windows, damaged buildings, and injured over 1,500 people. It was the largest meteor to hit Earth in over a century, since the Tunguska event in 1908.

Sergey’s Close Encounter

Sergey Kiselyov, a 42-year-old factory worker, had no idea his day was about to take a turn for the cosmic. He had just stepped out for a smoke break when the shockwave from the meteor explosion sent a piece of debris hurtling toward him. The small fragment struck Sergey on the side of the head, knocking him unconscious.

When he came to, Sergey was lying on the ground, bleeding and dazed. Bystanders rushed to help him, and he was taken to a nearby hospital. There, doctors cleaned his wound and stitched up the gash on his temple. Despite the trauma, Sergey’s injuries were minor considering the circumstances.

The strangest part? The offending piece of meteorite was still embedded in his hat, which had miraculously cushioned the blow enough to save his life. Sergey kept the space rock as a bizarre memento of his brush with the cosmos.

The Only Other Known Case: Ann Hodges

Sergey’s experience draws comparisons to Ann Hodges, the first documented person to survive being hit by a meteorite. In 1954, a meteorite fragment crashed through the roof of her home in Sylacauga, Alabama, striking her while she napped on her couch. Though bruised and shaken, Ann survived, earning her a unique place in history.

What makes Sergey’s story different is the sheer scale of the Chelyabinsk meteor event, which affected thousands of people. While Ann Hodges’s encounter was isolated, Sergey’s injury was a direct result of one of the most significant cosmic events in modern times.

The Aftermath

Sergey’s life changed forever after his meteor encounter. His scar became a talking point, earning him the nickname “Cosmic Sergey” among his friends. The meteor fragment became a prized possession, and he even joked about auctioning it off to the highest bidder.

Scientists later examined the fragment and confirmed it was part of the Chelyabinsk meteor. The rock’s composition provided valuable insights into the nature of near-Earth asteroids and how they behave when entering the atmosphere.

A Legacy Written in the Stars

Sergey’s story is a reminder of how unpredictable and awe-inspiring the universe can be. In a world where the odds of being hit by a meteorite are estimated to be one in 1.6 million, Sergey Kiselyov’s experience is nothing short of extraordinary.

His encounter with the cosmos serves as a humbling reminder of Earth’s vulnerability in the vastness of space. While meteor strikes are rare, the Chelyabinsk event demonstrated their potential impact—and the resilience of the human spirit in the face of such randomness.

For Sergey, his scar and his piece of space rock are not just reminders of a freak accident; they are symbols of his unique place in history. “Not many people can say they’ve been hit by something from outer space and lived to tell the tale,” Sergey said with a grin. “It’s my little piece of the universe, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

His story is a testament to survival, curiosity, and the strange, beautiful ways in which the universe sometimes connects with us—literally.