The monument was unveiled in mid-September 1985, and many guests, writers, and poets from various cities, including Vologda, Moscow, and Leningrad, attended the ceremony. The plaster version of the monument stood for a month and a half. Following the advice of sculptor V.M. Klykov, it was removed before the onset of damp weather and frost that could damage the material. The base of the monument extended beyond the pedestal, so its contours had to be altered. This work was carried out by Totma restorers, who also faced the pedestal with marble slabs inscribed with the words: "For all good, we will repay with good, For all love, we will repay with love." N. Rubtsov.

In 1986, the monument was cast in bronze at the Mytishchi Artistic Casting Plant thanks to the mediation of sculptor Vyacheslav Klykov. It was then delivered to Totma and installed on the prepared pedestal.

The poet's friend Stanislav Kunyaev recalls this event: "Nikolai Rubtsov has two prophecies: 'I will die in the frosts of Epiphany' and 'They will erect a monument to me in the village...' Both came true. We unveiled the monument in September 1985, and this event became the culmination of three days of public celebrations in his honor. It is not often that fellow countrymen honor Russian poets so highly. Let us remember that the first monument to Yesenin in Ryazan was erected only half a century after his death. How can we not express gratitude to the people of Vologda and Totma! Despite the rain, a multitude of people gathered, and while the organizers completed the final preparations, the crowd with umbrellas, shawls, and berets clustered around the sculpture covered with a white cloth.

When the moment of unveiling arrived, I and poet Anatoly Peredreev stepped out of the crowd. I pulled the cord, and the covering slowly slid down, revealing the head and shoulders of not Kolya Rubtsov, but someone else who had departed to the realm of Russian poetry, to the world of memory... He sat on a bench in a coat draped over his shoulders, one leg crossed over the other, hands with intertwined fingers resting on his knee... A high forehead, deep eye sockets, a thoughtful tilt of the head, the collar of a coarse sweater that Rubtsov often wore, the entire image exuded a spirit of detachment from worldly temptations, inner concentration, a sense of dignity, and invulnerability to the external circumstances of life...

I looked at the hundreds of people in raincoats, quilted jackets, and coats surrounding the sculpture, and I thought: why, just fifteen years after the poet's death, has his work become so necessary to the people? After all, he was never fashionable, did not seek fame, did not rush to the stage, neither domestic nor foreign. There is no record, no footage of Nikolai Rubtsov on television, only a short radio recording of his voice has survived, and yet his poetry has somehow miraculously, naturally, gradually, and powerfully survived, rooted itself, and continues to enlighten the souls of people...