Remember when the economy was healthy and many people traveled all over the world without danger of going broke? My husband and I took advantage of package deals, one of which was a trip to the former USSR, which was celebrating its 60th anniversary in the year 1982.

Yes, in its heyday the USSR was made up of 15 republics, 80 percent of which lay in latitudes similar to Alaska. Our trip took three weeks including a cruise that afforded us a rest stop and swim in the famous Volga River.

I remember in my childhood of singing the Song of the Volga Boatmen and visualizing men with heavy ropes walking along the river pulling the boat along. On this trip our cruise ship was mechanized as it sailed past a huge statue of Lenin illuminated by the early morning sun.

A highlight of our stay in Moscow was the subway stations, each decorated with artistic splendor—some with stained glass, others with murals painted on the ceilings. In those days I did not wear sport shoes when traveling and fell heir to aching feet.

I noticed a kiosk with newspapers and trinkets for sale. There were even shoe insoles for sale so I asked how much they were. I was told that I could have them without charge. So few people from the US came to the USSR in those days that we were considered special visitors. Blue jeans and Nike shoes were in great demand.

My husband was once asked if he would sell the shoes off his feet.

Once in the capital of Russia we were walking out of the subway and someone walked up to my husband and asked, “Aren’t you Mikhalkov?” At that time we didn’t realize what an honor it was to be mistaken for the great Sergei Mikhalkov who was the favorite writer during Stalin’s reign and remained in high standing until his death recently at age 96.

At the time we had no idea that he had written the lyrics to the Soviet and Russian national anthem.

My husband’s Russian pen pal Wally, after hearing about my husband’s being mistaken for this favorite children’s writer, sent us a colorful book of poems and stories written by Mikhalkov and translated into English. And lo and behold, when we opened the children’s book there was a picture of Mikhalkov above a preface, words of greeting saying that he considered this book to be his best work.

After this trip I used to joke with my husband and ask, “Aren’t you Mikhalkov?” As I look at this picture now I can see my husband as he looked in the eighties with his moustache, graying hair receding at the forehead, wearing glasses and with a look of pleasant anticipation on his face.

Mikhalkov was not an activist like my husband was, however, he rode the Communist tide through the Stalin years and beyond, refusing to risk censure by criticizing the system as other writers such as Boris Pasternak and Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn did. When the Kremlin requested that he change the lyrics in 1977, he dutifully complied, removing all reference to Stalin.

As we know, it takes all kinds of people to make up this world of ours. Some are conformists and some are change agents. Mikhalkov knew how to stay afloat with honors through stormy political times and his writing will be appreciated in his homeland for many years to come.

Georgie Bright Kunkel is a freelance writer who can be reached at gnkunkel@comcast.net or 206-935-8663.