Already a subscriber? Log in to hide ads. He was sitting on a low stone wall in a park in Moscow. He wore heavy black boots, tight black pants, a black jacket, and a sheepskin shapka on his head. He had military medals pinned to his chest. He sat calmly watching as people walked past.
A few were walking alone. Some were talking to each other. Families were taking their children for a stroll. His eyes were narrow, set in a weather-worn face featuring deep wrinkles across his brow, nose, and cheeks.
His mouth, framed by a clipped mustache, seemed set in a subtle smile. Especially during times of heightened hostility and tension, we can find moments of connection and humanity that transcend borders, cultures, and even worldviews.
It was June , and Russia was still part of the powerful Soviet Union. It was the middle of the Cold War. My wife, Peggy, and I were visiting four cities in the Soviet Union through Intourist, the government travel agency, and the only reasonable way of seeing life behind the Iron Curtain.
We had visited what was then Leningrad, Kyiv, Odesa, and, finally, Moscow. We saw several sites from the Olympics, which the United States and other countries had boycotted. Even three years later, it was a difficult subject. The boycott had cost Russia millions of dollars, but more importantly, it had cost the nation stature in the world. We had seen hundreds of propaganda posters showing the evil nature of the U. Reagan is a man of war. The influence of the Soviet Union extended beyond its border.
