When you come from a certain culture that you know intimately, quite often you can 'feel' it but can't explain it, put it into words. So even at the best of times we knew it was not going to last long.
Here's my dad with Yeltsin. I have beautiful pictures of him with Gorby as well, but this memorabilia didn't amount to much.
What a shame. But then again, we knew it. Tacit knowledge. Quiet pessimism. Or realism, rather.