What did YOU do?

In 2009, during a workshop, I met my yet‑unborn great‑grandchildren. They sat in a horseshoe around me and asked, with concerned seriousness:
“When you realized just how alarming the situation was—what did you do?”

I can still see their faces. I meet their eyes with sweaty palms, dryness in my throat. That moment never left me, and as I’m writing this, tears blur my sight. It became the defining moment in my adult life.