Allan´s Weblog

I vividly remember these November days twenty years ago. Not because I was soon reaching my 30th birthday, but because it was clear to me, that World War Two was finally coming to an end. The damned war that split Europe in two - the Communist half and the Capitalist half.

Celebrating this, I particularly think of the heroes that made the reunion of Europe possible. First and foremost the people of Eastern Europe who acted with civilian disobedience risking their own lives in the process. I count these in the hundreds, if not in the thousands. Those keeping up the pressure on the military guards with their weapon ready at the gates, walls and fences.
Of the notabilities doing their part, I would like to emphasize Mikhail Gorbatjov - the leader of the Soviet Union from 1985 to the end of that union in 1991. Gorbatjov managed to do what is so very, very difficult for every person in power; he managed to begin the retreat with dignity - which in the end made the reunification of Europe possible.
It was an easy thing to do for western leaders to stand up and shout "Mr Gorbatjov, tear down that wall!" and similar outbursts. To actually initiate the process from the Eastern side was an entirely different matter.

I remember those days so vividly. I remember being stuck at the TV screen for days, following the events unfold before my eyes. I remember the feelings of happiness, the disbelief, the victory of it all and the discussions with friends and family, as world history was happening.

I remember the first time I saw these small two-stroke, smoking and oil-smelling Trabant cars rolling through my town. I remember how we'd all wave at the good people from the East - and could see that they'd already been waved so much at, that they couldn't really find the strength to wave back anymore.

I remember seeing how the Communist Parties in the west, including members of my own family, crumble and disappear within weeks.

I remember the first time taking the train to Berlin, walking around on Alexanderplatz thinking: "It was here. This was the place. This might be the center of World history as it is for our generations."



Now we only need to tear down all the other walls dividing people. The economical walls, the curses of Capitalism as the Berlin Wall was of Communism - walls like the one making thousands of people from Africa cross over to Europe in crummy boats in a way causing half of them to drown in the process. Or the walls in our minds that allow gated communities in our societies making the poor unable to access the streets where the rich live.

That will demand courage, too.

World Leaders, tear down those walls!

We had the first touch of frost. Leaves are all yellow and brown. Nature is preparing to die.

Still one brave rose in my beloved garden is holding it's head high - after the frost and a night's rain looking even better than ever. I guess it is with roses like it is with us humans - obstacles add character to the individual.

Either way, I felt a connection with my rose.

The seventies. Maybe the most intense decade in my life. The decade I grew up - from I was 10 to I was 20.

I remember our long hair and bell bottom trousers.. The Sweet, Slade, Abba, Deep Purple, Uriah Heep and God only knows how many else.

I was 10 years old and had myself a pair of glasses larger than my face in '70. In '71 I understood the very difference between boys and girls. I discovered that I could technically become a dad in '72. My first kiss was in '73. In '74 I realized that I was a good performer at exams. In '75 I had my first motorized vehicle, a 50ccm very noisy motorcycle. I smoked weed for the first time in '76. I left basic school and began my high-school life in '77. In '78 I voted for the first time. In '79 I clearly understood that smoking weed and maintaining good performances at exams just didn't go together very well - in a way my first adult decision. I chose exams.

But when I think back to the seventies, the first thing popping up in my mind is the colors and the style of things. Orange colored curtains. Brown walls. Purple clothes. Things really looked different during that decade.



The above photo is the seventies to me. I took it at a couple of friends' home the other day - the female part of that couple has an obsession with kitsch. And seeing this really brought me back.

And one thing more - November 21st I am going to a concert with Deep Purple! Dig that!!