Anecdotes of the Past

Author: Lin Li
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-05-01
Features: My father, Lin Bokui (Lin Zuhán), joined the Tongmenghui founded by Sun Yat-sen in Japan in 1905. In 1921, he was introduced by Li Dazhao and Chen Duxiu to join the Communist Group in Shanghai and became one of the earliest members of the Communist Party of China. After that, he devoted his entire life to the revolutionary and construction cause led by our Party, and naturally, the fate of my family was closely tied to his activities. Before 1938, especially during the Great Revolution from 1924 to 1927, my family moved around between Hunan, Shanghai, Guangzhou, and Hangzhou as the domestic situation changed. As a result, the children also lived and studied in these places. In my earliest memories, the clearest impression was taking a sea voyage from Shanghai to Guangzhou, which was around late 1925. My five siblings—eldest sister (Lin Bingquan), second sister (Lin Bingheng, sometimes also called Bingheng), older brother (Lin Bingyi), me, and younger sister (Lin Bingqi, also known as Lin Lin)—and my mother took the ship for several days and nights. On the ship, I often ran up to the grand dining room (first-class cabin) to play with a little girl named Baby (Bèibei), the daughter of Cheng Qian. We were about the same age, around four years old. Since the adults in both families knew each other well, they allowed us to play together. We ran around the spacious dining room all day, laughing and jumping. Only once did we witness an unfortunate event. We saw a man sitting on the railing of the deck, drinking, and appeared drunk. He dragged a woman to him and then pushed her into the sea. Although the crew attempted to rescue her, the woman who was pulled up was already dead and was placed in a cabin. We didn’t understand that it was a tragic incident of a wealthy, drunk man mistreating and taking a life. We continued to play there, sometimes even sneakily pushing open the door of the cabin where the woman’s body was placed to take a peek—except for the white sheet covering it, we couldn’t see anything else. I remember this scene because taking a sea voyage and playing with a little friend were very new and exciting experiences for me at the time.
In Guangzhou, I no longer remember the name of the street where our home was located. I only remember that we lived on the second floor, and downstairs was a fruit shop. Usually, the adults in the family wouldn’t let me go out, but my mother would occasionally take us with her when she went out for visits. Many children from other families were also brought along by the adults. During meals, the children would sit together. Some female guests would come to play with us. Two of the guests, on the spot, took me in as their adopted daughter, one of whom was Cai Chang, whom I called Aunt Cai. I don’t remember other activities, like the time my mother said she took me to the cinema, but I have no recollection of it. It was the period of the Great Revolution, and Guangzhou must have had many significant historical moments. But I was too young, and the adults didn’t have time to explain anything to me. I only remember one special event where my parents took us children in a very rare black car to Huanghuagang. There were crowds of people, and many colorful small flags. We were very excited and joyful. But I didn’t know what the event was commemorating. Later, when I met Sun Weishi in Moscow, she said she also remembered going to Huanghuagang with her parents to participate in some event, but she didn’t know what it was either. What I do remember clearly is that the children often sat in the hall waiting for our parents to come home at night. I had a vague sense of unease, and the later it got, the more tense I felt. Adding to this, the summer nights in Guangzhou were often thunderstorms, which made us worry even more about our parents.
One time, during another stormy night, my anxiety made me blurt out, "Didn’t they kill them?"