It's the 20th anniversary of the day the Berlin Wall fell.
I remember watching the Berlin Wall falling on TV. Back then, if I wanted to spend time with my father - and I always did - it meant watching TV. Dad used to read the paper, listen to the radio, and watch TV all at once, or at least that's what it seemed like to me at the time. I would sit next to him on the couch and lean up against him. I couldn't read, so the newspaper was a mystery, but I could watch whatever he was watching on TV.
One particular night, I walked into the room to find him watching a bunch of people standing on a wall at night, bringing down hammers, laughing and shouting, while a news commentator went on about Gorbachev and things I didn't understand. It's the first time I remember my interest being piqued by the news. I asked my Dad what was going on and he explained how there was a city in Europe that had a wall built through it and nobody had been allowed to see each other, but that tonight they were allowed to, so they were destroying the wall.
I can't say for sure whether it was then that I became interested in German history. I had already been learning German, and I didn't become overly interested in history until high school - or at least - I didn't notice I was more interested in history than other people until high school.
I have, however, always been jealous of anyone who was actually in Germany when the wall fell. Just because it's one of my more vivid childhood memories - standing by the TV, staring at the screen, and watching people's lives change. I had wished that I had actually been there and I still do.