A momentous 1989

Has it really been 20 years? 1989 started off on a good note for me: my adorable niece Gigi was born (the first of three wonderful girls). Hard to believe that sweet baby is now in college.

That June, my mom and I were off to Italy together for a fabulous three-week girls' vacation. Normally I couldn't tell you the exact dates of a long-ago trip, but I remember this one clearly. The night we arrived, we turned on the TV in our Rome hotel room and saw pictures of mayhem. Listening to the news in rapid fire Italian, my mother said she thought there had been a terrible train accident in China, somehow involving students. We found out later it was the Tiananmen Square Massacre. The Chinese government calls it simply the "June Fourth Incident." Interesting to see where they've come in 20 years. Still a communist government, still repressive, but enjoying the fruits of capitalism in a way that defies logic. CBS's Sunday Morning (still one of the best shows on TV) just did a thought-provoking segment on it, and there are several in-depth articles in the newspapers today (including a good one in the Wall Street Journal).

I keep wondering what Wal-Mart would look like today if they didn't have access to the cheap plunder in China. But then I have to add, maybe in tiny letters, that we, as small retailers, are not immune to the lure of China, either. There's no end to the goods they can produce at competitive prices. You just can't get around it, though we try. The twenty-year anniversary of Tiananmen Square is Thursday, June 4. The students who participated are now in their 40s. Hard to comprehend.

By the way, that Italian vacation was one of the best times mom and I have spent together. She was in charge of researching the historical and cultural parts of the visit, and I was in charge of logistics. It worked out brilliantly.

And then there was October 17, same year. My San Francisco apartment went from sweet to shambles, courtesy of the Loma Prieta earthquake. I had some neat pictures to share, but I can't find them (if only I had a digital camera and iPhoto back then!). There's one of a bookcase that skittered across the floor a few yards, threw itself on top of my sofa, and spewed books all over the room. Another is a shot of a tiny pantry cabinet with most contents on the floor, in an oozy pile of broken glass and mixed condiments. I remember getting together with friends and neighbors that evening, dining on ice cream and beer... we felt we had to consume whatever was melting in our non-operational refrigerators/freezers. No electricity, spotty phone service, nobody driving except in emergency situations, no streetlights... and an unusually balmy 80+ degrees. You know how sometimes one little moment defines a whole story? That came when I was sitting on my windowsill in front, maybe 9pm, just watching the scene in my neighborhood. The city was beautiful, dark and silent, except for the sounds of groups of people walking and chatting and greeting each other. Everybody was out, some gathered around little transistor radios, some just strolling, some just perched in open windows or fire escapes, like me. It was a scene of true neighborliness.