What it was like to be in the crowd
Julian Vassallo
"Are they chanting 'Gorby, Gorby' or 'Eddie, Eddie', I asked myself with half a smile. I was in the front row behind a police cordon in front of Castille, warmed by the heaving crowd behind me. In reality, they were chanting both.
Half the crowd were cheering the man who was changing the world - the other half were cheering the man who was changing their world - Malta. Thankfully, their names rhymed.
I was a long-haired 18-year-old at the time, leafing through the morning papers in disbelief because the news of free elections in yet another Iron-Curtain country or the collapse of yet another Soviet-backed regime, was simply too much to hope for.
It wasn't hard to be idealistic then.
When earlier that day we sat in the University common room singing Give peace a Chance John Lennon's words no longer sounded naïve and drug-induced. Grown men were trying out that very same idea just a few miles away. And the rest, as they say, is history."
Georg Sapiano
"As soon as Mikhail Gorbachev's car drew up in front of Castille, the President struck left to shake hands with the people behind police lines near St James Cavalier.
A Canal Plus crew and I were on the opposite side and wanted to cut across. Earlier in the day, however, we had swerved around a couple of local policemen to stick a microphone in the US President's face. We got the sound bite but the two policemen were standing right next to me when Mr Gorbachev arrived. Anyway, I decided to make a run for it, impolitely shoved the policeman to my right and dashed across the Castille Place roundabout with about 200 people in hot pursuit. When I got there, I started to call out for Mr Gorbachev but did not manage to attract his attention.
Finally, as he started to turn towards Castille I began to call out to his wife Raisa.
She looked in my direction immediately, I frantically pointed to her husband and she tapped him on his shoulder and brought him to my microphone. That was wonderful!"