Twenty-two years ago today, I was five months pregnant and on a business trip in London. The city was on high alert because of IRA bombings. Thinking of yesterday's attacks there, I find this in the journals of the great British diarist Samuel Pepys:

    January 7, 1661

This morning, news was brought to me that there had been a great stir in the City this night by the Fanatiques, who had been up and killed six or seven men, but all are fled. My Lord Mayor and the whole City had been in arms, above 40,000.

    January 8, 1661

My wife and I lay very long in bed to-day talking and pleasing one another in discourse.

    January 10, 1661

So to Mrs. Hunt, where I found a Frenchman, a lodger of her's, at dinner, and just as I came in was kissing my wife, which I did not like, though there could not be any hurt in it.

    January 11, 1661

Dined at home, discontented that my wife do not go neater now that she has two maids.

    January 19, 1661

To the Comptroller's, and with him by coach to White Hall; in our way meeting Venner and Pritchard upon a sledge, who with two more Fifth Monarchy men were hanged today, and the first two drawn and quartered.

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Thinking also, today, of London's Postman's Park memorial to humble heroes.