I don't remember much about the fall of the Berlin Wall. That is to say, I remember nothing about it.
The event happened when I was barely two months into my freshman year of college. I was trying to focus on studies that were harder than anything I'd known before; I was a member of three musical ensembles and had to practice at least two hours a day anyway; neither I nor my college roommate brought a teevee, so we had none in our room that whole year; I was probably more focused on some girl -- there was a blonde pianist I quite fancied at first -- and, well, all of the above. So I had only the vaguest notion that the general feeling that had been accruing through the late 80s -- that Communism was quickly approaching the end of its shelf-life, aided along by the efforts of Gorbachev -- was about to come to a head.
I only knew that the Wall had come down when I went to my first class the morning after, and heard one of my classmates literally say to someone else, "Hey, did you see the news? The Berlin Wall fell." And for a moment, I remember thinking briefly that it had toppled of its own accord, as if there had been an earthquake or something. The magnitude of the human accomplishment was obvious, though, almost immediately. The feeling that eventually settled in was that it was pretty surreal. It felt as if one night, the world was in its natural state, with two Germany's and two Berlins, and the next night, that era was over, just like that. No long periods of summit meetings, no signings of treaties to take effect in five years. Just a bunch of people, at long last taking their hammers and crowbars and whatever else they could grab to that immense series of concrete slabs so they could finally start chipping it away.
Anyway, that was my sense of what was going on.
I wonder whatever became of that blonde piano player, by the way....