I can still taste the concrete powder that filled the air when the Wall came down. It had a chalky sense of history about it. A taste one never forgets.

Evelyn Preuss in the rubble-filled streets of post-war Berlin.

My parents emigrated to the U.S. in 1960, seeking a better way of life. They were both children of war. My father, Gunter Preuss, grew up as a German in occupied Poland. He has lots of stories about death and suffering. Things a child should never witness.

My mother, Evelyn, is a Berliner. She fled into the cellar during Allied bombing runs. They never knew whether their house would be there when the all clear siren rang. Another example of things a child should never witness.

After the war, she said “Berliners just picked themselves up and rebuilt.” My family settled in New Orleans, Louisiana.

We grew up in middle class suburbia - a long way from the bombed out streets of Berlin. It was important to my parents that we spoke German in the house and visit relatives overseas. So in the summer, my brother and I would head to Germany - the divided one.

One grandmother lived in Kassel, West Germany. It seemed just like home but hilly with castles. I remember U.S. troop training and seeing tanks rolling down the streets. It made me feel proud, even though the Germans called us “Ami’s.”

The trip to see my other relatives in West Berlin was quite an adventure for us kids. We would drive through an East German border town. There were machine guns and guard dogs. There was an overriding feeling of paranoia and fear.

The soldiers never smiled and seemed angry. This was not something we ever expected. This became my legacy of the Cold War. Something the friends back home could not relate to.

Back in the safety of West Berlin, we once again felt cozy. I never did spend a lot of time at the Wall during those visits, but always felt its presence.

I remember once discussing the Wall with my parents. Mom said: “It is part of our lifestyle, we are divided there will never be one Berlin.”

Flash forward to November 1989. CNN was broadcasting the impossible. The Wall was coming down.

My mother and I knew we had to be there. We made travel arrangements. My memories of that heady time are filled with joyful trepidation.

Was it really true? Am I climbing on top of the Wall with hammer, chisel and spray paint cans? My mother’s first thought - “I wish my mother could have seen this, she would never have believed it.”

Evelyn and son, CNN's Andreas Preuss, at the falling Wall.

Mom was been back several times but staying still in the West area. I went back during the German Presidential Election a few years ago. There were construction cranes all over.

That feeling of paranoia was gone. The heady taste of capitalism was alive and well. A lot of money, hope and promise was filling the former Wall Zone.

My second hometown was changing. Places that I remembered as being the most prominent streets like the Ku-Damm seemed worn down and forgotten.

The buzz was in the East. I did find a spot where mom and I touched the Wall. It was now part of an outdoor museum and a reminder for all to see.