I remember that night 20 years ago

I was...11, going for 12. My parents had just said good night, they were back from a party and as always, I was awake until they came home. And as always I was listening at the radio, as I´ve done since I was a toddler. (I don´t like total silence you see, it freaks me out)
Suddenly the music was interrupted and a shaky voice announced that the Swedish Prime Minister Olof Palme had been shot.
I froze and listened. Then I got up and told my parents. They thought I was joking and turned the radio on. And there the news was again. It was real, it had happened where you´d never thought something like that could.

Seven years later I was in the US in the fall. 30 years had past since JFK had been shot and I heard all kinds of stories, describing what I felt 20 years ago. Fear, shock, anger.
This year it´ll also be 3 years since they showed up again, when Swedish Minister of Foreing Affairs Anna Lindh was killed.

It´s a mad world out there. And it´s weird how those crystal clear moments scar your whole being, those moments when the world seem to spin the wrong way around, like a confused marble out of orbit.