My history teacher  in high school was a university professor,  misplaced from his original position after Prague Spring. He was indeed a character, we all loved him, we never knew when and where the historic act took place but we knew all details about every participant including the menu, sort of covid19.
He had his own philosophical perception of history, confirmed by his experience which he compounded into one sentence, frequently repeated to us: “My dears when I plough with horses, I see a farrow. When I plough with you I see nothing.”
50 years later  I know the feeling.

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