According to my Economics teacher, tanks crushed many cars, and another man stood in front of a path of tanks. A mortar gun was pointed at him, and then the tank crushed the him. I have never seen that, so I decided not to write about it. Heck, from my research it's like it never happened. Kind of scary, because, according to my teacher, it was shown live at the time. And, today I asked him about. He didn't seem to want to talk about it. All he mentioned was that many things happened at Tianamen Square on that day. What he did say though, haunted me throughout the school day. He said entire rows of automobiles were crushed by tanks. And that one man got in front of a tank. My teacher said, "The man stepped in front of the tank, just asking for it to run over him. It did. 
**For anybody that doesn't know who TankMan is, refer to this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nasrxel- ... re=related if you only want to see TankMan skip to 2:27. Although the early minutes of the video are worth watching as well. It is by far the clearest out of every TankMan video I could find! But, the movie clip moments either help or hurt the video. However, the video cuts out the shocking ending of the incident. For the full video refer to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CxDd82Myqis
For a little documentary check out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=40bI6wzC ... re=related *
My heart stopped. Time itself seemed to have halted, as a man with a shopping bag in each hand stepped in front of the path of the monstrous metallic beasts. They rumbled down Tiananmen Square.
I glanced at the people around me. I shuddered. Their eyes were like glass, intent only on the man holding back the serpentine line of war machines.
"What is he doing?" a woman said.
In my peripheral vision I saw the young man next to her say nothing. His mouth agape. Every single other person around me was equally shocked. We had all experienced horror here. Many of my fellow protesters had been slaughtered by soldiers and policemen.
The formation of tanks being held back by the man rumbled like growling beasts. I fought against my knees, which were violently trembling. They threatened to knock me off my feet. It was as if the concrete beneath my feet was rocking from the most thunderous earthquake to ever occur on the surface of the Earth.
I wanted to yell at the man standing in front of the metallic monsters to get away. But a spark of a feeling I hadn't felt in years ignited in my very core. Hope. Never since the police killed my parents for speaking against the Government had I ever felt anything but terror. Constant, never ending fear.
I jumped, startled as gunfire crackled from somewhere close by. But I held my ground, unable to pry my eyes from the man. My legs felt as if they were rooted in place.
"Why are you here!?" the man yelled. "You have done nothing but create misery! My city is in chaos because of you!"
It was impossible to comprehend just how many seconds ticked by as the man remained in front of the formation of tanks. I felt myself exhale as the first tank began to rumble around the mans left.
I covered my mouth as the man hopped back in front of the tanks path, and swung the bag in his right hand at it. I trembled, tears streaming down my cheeks. Every tear was for the man standing up to the giant. The Government.
"Get out of the way!" one of the women next to me said.
I held my breath as the tank proceeded to drive around the man again. My crying became weeping as the man followed it's path, blocking it again. The tank drove left, and the man followed. It swiftly headed right again, the man following. He was dancing with death.
The beast ground to a halt. For a moment the man was as still as a statue. I nearly screamed as the man suddenly ran forward and began to climb on the tank.
Don't! Get down from there! They're going to shoot you! Even if the man was psychic and could hear my thoughts I knew he would not listen to them. He was too strong. A hero.
My body rocked back and forth. I felt like I was about to lose consciousness at any moment. My vision was hazy through my waterfall of tears. The man had climbed onto the tank's lid. He pounded on it.
Get out of my city! You are not welcome here! Those were the words that the man was no doubt saying to the murderer inside the beast. But, the murderer was only a puppet under the control of the master. But, something had compelled him to stop. So, maybe he wasn't completely lost.
I let out a breath of hot air as the man hopped off the tank. My tears had not ceased to pour from me.
"That was the most..." a man next to me said.
"I am so glad I joined this gathering," another man said behind her.
"No!" I said as the man ran along side the tank as it plowed down the square, a cloud of gray exhaust in it's wake. In kangaroo like sideways bounds he blocked its path.
I brushed away tears, but they were immediately replaced by a new sea.
A man in a bicycle peddled in beside the man. The bicyclist turned to the heroic man and spoke to him. Yes, someone was finally getting the man out of death's path. The faint patter of footfalls sounded from somewhere close to me. I turned to the noises and gasped.
A group of four men rushed to the hero. One wearing a blue shirt grabbed him roughly by his side. The man grabbing him wore a blue shirt, as did another. The other two were wearing white shirts.
I trembled as they walked him away from the tanks, holding his head down roughly by the back of his neck. I gritted my teeth in anger. That move was typical of the police. The other man in a blue shirt waved for the tanks to proceed down the square.
I watched the hero being led away. Tears of mourning streamed from my eyes. I was mourning his death. Deep down inside, I knew he would never be heard from again. But I would never allow for his story to be forgotten. I only wish someone, somewhere, somehow captured the moment. And, for the world's sake that the police not get their hands on the history.
I love the picture you gave, though.
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