Hungary became a Communist country more or less in 1949.

The early years were years of repression. Until approximately 1954, or perhaps 1953, when Stalin died, the political atmosphere was extraordinarily restrictive.

Then something began to change.

After Stalin's death, the pressure loosened somewhat. It did not disappear, but people began testing the boundaries of what could be said. Intellectuals spoke more openly. Writers became increasingly willing to criticize certain aspects of the system. Students followed those discussions closely.

By 1956, criticism that would once have been unthinkable was becoming increasingly public.

I was attending the Technical University in Budapest and was in my fifth year. I was approaching the end of my university education and, like most young people, I was thinking much more about my own future than about becoming part of a historical event.

I had my studies.

I had my friends.

And I had Vera, my girlfriend, whom I loved and wanted to marry.

The four of us, Szaby, George, Charles and I, had become especially close. Those were the years of our youth, and in spite of everything happening around us, we found ways to enjoy them. We spent time together, talked endlessly and played cards, especially ulti.

Cards were serious business with me.

I had been playing since I was young. When I was fourteen, I sometimes played until three in the morning and occasionally made more money playing cards than my mother made at her job.

Those friendships and those ordinary pleasures gave our lives a kind of normality. Perhaps they also helped us block out some of the more frightening things taking place around us.

Years later, I came to realize that this is something people often do.

Life continues even when history is gathering outside your door.