It always surprises how anniversaries of news can take me right to the place I was when I heard:
- A year ago, when the Columbia shattered on re-entry I was listening to Vermont NPR driving up Quebec Highway 20 back from the interview for the job I now have. The show was sponsoured by a Burlington firm I had contacted in my former work;
- When the 18th Challenger anniversary passed last week, I was back in Brussels at a pal's house on the same day that Olaf Palme, Swedish Prime Minister, was assasinated while out walking;
- Less grimly, any reference to the 1972 hockey final between Russia and Canada puts my in Dad's second-hand Volvo in a church parking lot in Middleton, N.S., listening to the game on the radio.
Comments
timesnewroman - February 2, 2004 5:04 pm
Taste is another. I remember being at my aunt and uncle's in Scunthorpe in 1966, I was 8 at the time and missed the final, oh well. Anyway I distinctly remember English tea tasting different and just accepted that. Fourteen years later I was back in Scunthorpe, in a different family home, and had a cup of tea, which tasted exactly like the tea of my childhood, I realised then it wasn't English tea as I had drunk numerous cups since, across the length and breadth. It was definitely Scunthorpe. After considerable investigation it turns out that sterilised milk, rather than plain pasteurised is popular in Scunthorpe and that was the reason for the taste.