During the Cuban Missile Crisis. At the time, we lived in a small town in the Midlands of England. Although young, I knew what was going on; the Atomic Bomb was never far from anyone's thoughts.

One dark evening the street was lit up with a sudden blinding flash and loud crackling sound. Everyone poured from their houses into the street, sure that the end of the world had come. The Bomb had been dropped.

It turned out that ice had accumulated on power lines which had snapped and come down. Oh well, just another nuclear scare.

I've often pondered the fact that my parents, both born in the early 30s were among the last generation to live, at least part of their lives before the spectre of atomic warfare hung over our heads.