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Three Infamous Dream/Vision Stories
It is known to some, and not so much to others, that I have had what some might call prophetic or psychic dreams or vision on occasion.
One such vivid dream had to do with a house I’d never seen or been in. It was so vivid that I sensed there was a real life significance to the message of the dream, so I drew a picture of the house and the placement on the street and quizzed my mother down to see if she knew of this house and if I had ever in my lifetime been inside it. She had never seen it. Fast forward four months later on a trip to the home of our new pastor and his wife. No it wasn’t his house, but on the drive there, we turned a corner in his neighborhood and my mother turns at me white as a sheet and says quietly, “Oh my gosh that’s the house. That’s the house exactly as you drew it.”And it was. We turned right in front of it and down a few blocks to the pastor’s house. "We have to ask if they know about this house and who lives there,” she said. About a half hour into polite chit-chat with the pastor and wife, she did exactly that. She described the house a few blocks down and that I’d had a dream about it.
“I know the one you are talking about” he said looking at his wife. He turned to me, “What was the dream about?”
“I was going to knock n the door of the house because I was with my dad driving at night and we had car trouble. But every time I went to the door I was knocked down the steps by a very strong force and a female voice told me to get away from the house, that there was something evil in the house.”
The pastor looked at his wife and his wife looked at him wide-eyed. They just stared at each other for a moment. Then he said, “All we know about that house is that they’ve sold it twice in the last few months and no one stays more than two weeks. It’s rumored to be haunted.”
That was the last time this particular pastor and his wife ever spoke to me. It was clear I spooked them. Eventually, we left the church.
Fast forward seven years later…I get a call from a high school friend. We are catching up on each other’s lives: “Bowen and I just got the financing to do a down payment our new house you won’t believe the deal we are getting on this house in Crystal Lake.” (Bowen being her husband.)
“In Crystal Lake? Hmmmmm…Is it an A frame house at the T of an intersection with a small cemetery on the property?”“Yes, as a matter of fact…how did you know?”I said, “Let me get my mom on this one. I have something to tell you that you may or may not believe, but whatever you do, don’t buy the house.” My mother confirmed the story. My friend and her husband decided not to buy the house.
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About eight years ago I jolted myself awake from a nightmare of being thrown from something. I couldn’t say what, but my jolt was so violent I injured my neck pretty bad and woke up sweating profusely, in a panic, like something traumatic had happened though I had no memory of the actual dream. It was a Tuesday and I was scheduled to wait tables for a lunch shift. I got up and dressed for work in so much pain I couldn’t move very well. I went to work and had a terrible time carrying heavy dished to tables. My entire left arm went numb. It made work so difficult and I felt so guilty having to ask other servers to assist me in carrying things that day. But, beyond the numbness was a feeling that something terrible had happened. I still had the residual feelings of having experienced a trauma, though I knew it was just a dream. I started to worry, however, that it was one of my psychic dreams. I got so worried that I called home that night, which was unusual because I never called home on weekdays. My mother was surprised to hear from me. At first I just told her I felt like checking in – but I was really feeling around to see if she would mention something happened to someone. She didn’t. But, I still had a nagging feeling something happened. I finally broke down and explained that I had had a dream that scared me and made me think something happened to someone. I asked her if everyone was okay. I even asked her if my grandmother who had been recovering from a stroke was okay and she reassured me that everything was just fine with everyone. But, she was concerned about my numb arm and suggested I call someone about it. At the time, I didn’t have health insurance, but was part of a medi-share program that was only good for serious emergencies. They had a hotline you could call to consult with someone on medical issues, so I called them about my arm and it was suggested that I do various exercises and massage my neck, etc. daily to try and find relief.
Fast forward to Thursday afternoon. My arm is still numb intermittantly, but getting better. I come home from another lunch shift to a strange message on my voicemail. It was the mother of my best friend (Katy) from college saying that she and Katy were missing me and hoped I would check in with them soon. The actual message itself was not all that strange, but I definitely thought it was strange that her mother had made the call and not Katy. I called her back and she told me the real reason for the message. “I didn’t want to leave the message on your machine, because I wanted to tell you in person, but Katy was in a terrible car accident Tuesday morning. We just brought her back from the hospital today. She was thrown from the car and broke several ribs and punctured a lung but she’s going to be okay.”
KATY! All this time, it was Katy!!! Why didn’t I think to check on Katy?!
Katy was resting when I first called, so I tried again the following day when she was awake. I asked her how she was feeling. She said she was sore. I asked about the accident. She was turning and someone hit her, but it was so fast she didn’t remember what happened. She said she was on her way to an early morning tanning session and since she was only going to tan, she put on a comfortable wrap dress with no underwear. She insisted that this was the reason she had an accident- that if she put underwear on, she wouldn’t have been thrown from the car, unconscious, spread-out on the road for someone to find her and see that she wasn’t wearing panties. At least she had a sense of humor about it. Then she said, “I still can’t feel one of my arms, and my ribcage is sore, but other than that…”
“Katy, your left arm? Is that the one you can’t feel?”
“Yeah, my left arm…how did you know?”I explained. And then I told her to never leave the house without panties on again, as long as I don’t have health insurance.
--
In March of 2000 I was keeping a grueling schedule that involved getting up at 5 a.m. to get ready for work and drive to a remote train station, catch the Metra into the city, take a bus, work a nine hour day, catch the bus to the train to the car, and drive to a musical rehearsal in Cicero (Morton College Theatre) to rehearse until midnight and then drive home, getting to bed about 1 a.m. After keeping this schedule for four straight days I was becoming one exhausted actress. My normal sleeping issues aside, this schedule was not something I would chose to do in hindsight. I became a virtual zombie and one night I had a wake-up call that I would never forget.
The fourth night driving home around 12:30 a.m. on I-355 North, I became conscious that I was a good candidate for nodding off at the wheel, but I was ten minutes away from my apartment and there was almost no one else on the road. I just kept thinking that in ten minutes I’ll be able to take a hot bath and crash for the night. In ten minutes, I’ll be home. I cranked up the radio and was singing along to keep myself awake. Then, the strangest thing happened. I had a vision that my car flipped upside down and onto the center median. It was so vivid that it jolted me. I shook it off. Man, I need some sleep. Stay Awake. Stay awake. Then, it happened again. The same vision. It lasted only seconds, but was terrifying. I debated pulling over to the side of the road. Should I take a quick nap? These visions were freaking me out. I decided that sleeping on the side of the road at this time of night was not all that safe of an option either. I continued to drive. The vision happened a third time. Quick. Now, I was practically slapping myself. It was freezing cold out, light snowflakes falling, but I opened my window, and my sun roof in order to keep myself from getting comfortable enough for sleeping and I cranked the radio even louder. Almost there. And then, it happened.
From the I-355 Southbound, going the opposite direction, a red car launches into mid air, lands upside down wrapping itself over the center median sailing at tremendous speed down the length of the median, passing me, huge sparks flying from the friction of metal and concrete until it hits a light post and ricochets back into southbound traffic. OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!! Did I imagine that? Did I just see that? Am I so tired I’m hallucinating? I started shaking uncontrollably and crying, distressed over what I think I may have just witnessed. Within a minute I was at my exit. I felt that if what I witnessed was real, there were so few cars on the road, that I should report it. But without a cell phone (this was before everyone and their dog had a cell phone), my only option was to find a pay phone. There was a Dominick’s grocery store right off the ramp. I pulled into the lot, spotted a pay phone, went to the phone and made a call to 9-1-1. I explained what I saw and the location in relation to the exit ramp, that I had no earthly idea how the car ended up flipping like that only that this is what I saw, and that it rebounded back into the Southbound lane. Even as I was calling, I wasn’t completely sure I was lucid, until the operator confirmed it. Halfway through my giving details, she paused, had a brief exchange with another operator and then came back to the receiver to tell me that two Southbound truckers were reporting the very same incident, with the very same details, the red car flipping onto the median. Then she asked me a question I will never forget.
“Do you think there were any survivors?” My vision came back, myself on the inside of the flipping car (the drivers perspective).Thinking the answer to this question might be the difference between sending an ambulance and police or police only, I responded “I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not sure,” while knowing in my gut that whoever was in the car died on impact.
Still shaking, I drove home very carefully and crawled straight into bed. For the next three days, I avoided news broadcasts and newspapers because I knew I couldn’t handle knowing who was in that car.
One such vivid dream had to do with a house I’d never seen or been in. It was so vivid that I sensed there was a real life significance to the message of the dream, so I drew a picture of the house and the placement on the street and quizzed my mother down to see if she knew of this house and if I had ever in my lifetime been inside it. She had never seen it. Fast forward four months later on a trip to the home of our new pastor and his wife. No it wasn’t his house, but on the drive there, we turned a corner in his neighborhood and my mother turns at me white as a sheet and says quietly, “Oh my gosh that’s the house. That’s the house exactly as you drew it.”And it was. We turned right in front of it and down a few blocks to the pastor’s house. "We have to ask if they know about this house and who lives there,” she said. About a half hour into polite chit-chat with the pastor and wife, she did exactly that. She described the house a few blocks down and that I’d had a dream about it.
“I know the one you are talking about” he said looking at his wife. He turned to me, “What was the dream about?”
“I was going to knock n the door of the house because I was with my dad driving at night and we had car trouble. But every time I went to the door I was knocked down the steps by a very strong force and a female voice told me to get away from the house, that there was something evil in the house.”
The pastor looked at his wife and his wife looked at him wide-eyed. They just stared at each other for a moment. Then he said, “All we know about that house is that they’ve sold it twice in the last few months and no one stays more than two weeks. It’s rumored to be haunted.”
That was the last time this particular pastor and his wife ever spoke to me. It was clear I spooked them. Eventually, we left the church.
Fast forward seven years later…I get a call from a high school friend. We are catching up on each other’s lives: “Bowen and I just got the financing to do a down payment our new house you won’t believe the deal we are getting on this house in Crystal Lake.” (Bowen being her husband.)
“In Crystal Lake? Hmmmmm…Is it an A frame house at the T of an intersection with a small cemetery on the property?”“Yes, as a matter of fact…how did you know?”I said, “Let me get my mom on this one. I have something to tell you that you may or may not believe, but whatever you do, don’t buy the house.” My mother confirmed the story. My friend and her husband decided not to buy the house.
-----
About eight years ago I jolted myself awake from a nightmare of being thrown from something. I couldn’t say what, but my jolt was so violent I injured my neck pretty bad and woke up sweating profusely, in a panic, like something traumatic had happened though I had no memory of the actual dream. It was a Tuesday and I was scheduled to wait tables for a lunch shift. I got up and dressed for work in so much pain I couldn’t move very well. I went to work and had a terrible time carrying heavy dished to tables. My entire left arm went numb. It made work so difficult and I felt so guilty having to ask other servers to assist me in carrying things that day. But, beyond the numbness was a feeling that something terrible had happened. I still had the residual feelings of having experienced a trauma, though I knew it was just a dream. I started to worry, however, that it was one of my psychic dreams. I got so worried that I called home that night, which was unusual because I never called home on weekdays. My mother was surprised to hear from me. At first I just told her I felt like checking in – but I was really feeling around to see if she would mention something happened to someone. She didn’t. But, I still had a nagging feeling something happened. I finally broke down and explained that I had had a dream that scared me and made me think something happened to someone. I asked her if everyone was okay. I even asked her if my grandmother who had been recovering from a stroke was okay and she reassured me that everything was just fine with everyone. But, she was concerned about my numb arm and suggested I call someone about it. At the time, I didn’t have health insurance, but was part of a medi-share program that was only good for serious emergencies. They had a hotline you could call to consult with someone on medical issues, so I called them about my arm and it was suggested that I do various exercises and massage my neck, etc. daily to try and find relief.
Fast forward to Thursday afternoon. My arm is still numb intermittantly, but getting better. I come home from another lunch shift to a strange message on my voicemail. It was the mother of my best friend (Katy) from college saying that she and Katy were missing me and hoped I would check in with them soon. The actual message itself was not all that strange, but I definitely thought it was strange that her mother had made the call and not Katy. I called her back and she told me the real reason for the message. “I didn’t want to leave the message on your machine, because I wanted to tell you in person, but Katy was in a terrible car accident Tuesday morning. We just brought her back from the hospital today. She was thrown from the car and broke several ribs and punctured a lung but she’s going to be okay.”
KATY! All this time, it was Katy!!! Why didn’t I think to check on Katy?!
Katy was resting when I first called, so I tried again the following day when she was awake. I asked her how she was feeling. She said she was sore. I asked about the accident. She was turning and someone hit her, but it was so fast she didn’t remember what happened. She said she was on her way to an early morning tanning session and since she was only going to tan, she put on a comfortable wrap dress with no underwear. She insisted that this was the reason she had an accident- that if she put underwear on, she wouldn’t have been thrown from the car, unconscious, spread-out on the road for someone to find her and see that she wasn’t wearing panties. At least she had a sense of humor about it. Then she said, “I still can’t feel one of my arms, and my ribcage is sore, but other than that…”
“Katy, your left arm? Is that the one you can’t feel?”
“Yeah, my left arm…how did you know?”I explained. And then I told her to never leave the house without panties on again, as long as I don’t have health insurance.
--
In March of 2000 I was keeping a grueling schedule that involved getting up at 5 a.m. to get ready for work and drive to a remote train station, catch the Metra into the city, take a bus, work a nine hour day, catch the bus to the train to the car, and drive to a musical rehearsal in Cicero (Morton College Theatre) to rehearse until midnight and then drive home, getting to bed about 1 a.m. After keeping this schedule for four straight days I was becoming one exhausted actress. My normal sleeping issues aside, this schedule was not something I would chose to do in hindsight. I became a virtual zombie and one night I had a wake-up call that I would never forget.
The fourth night driving home around 12:30 a.m. on I-355 North, I became conscious that I was a good candidate for nodding off at the wheel, but I was ten minutes away from my apartment and there was almost no one else on the road. I just kept thinking that in ten minutes I’ll be able to take a hot bath and crash for the night. In ten minutes, I’ll be home. I cranked up the radio and was singing along to keep myself awake. Then, the strangest thing happened. I had a vision that my car flipped upside down and onto the center median. It was so vivid that it jolted me. I shook it off. Man, I need some sleep. Stay Awake. Stay awake. Then, it happened again. The same vision. It lasted only seconds, but was terrifying. I debated pulling over to the side of the road. Should I take a quick nap? These visions were freaking me out. I decided that sleeping on the side of the road at this time of night was not all that safe of an option either. I continued to drive. The vision happened a third time. Quick. Now, I was practically slapping myself. It was freezing cold out, light snowflakes falling, but I opened my window, and my sun roof in order to keep myself from getting comfortable enough for sleeping and I cranked the radio even louder. Almost there. And then, it happened.
From the I-355 Southbound, going the opposite direction, a red car launches into mid air, lands upside down wrapping itself over the center median sailing at tremendous speed down the length of the median, passing me, huge sparks flying from the friction of metal and concrete until it hits a light post and ricochets back into southbound traffic. OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!! Did I imagine that? Did I just see that? Am I so tired I’m hallucinating? I started shaking uncontrollably and crying, distressed over what I think I may have just witnessed. Within a minute I was at my exit. I felt that if what I witnessed was real, there were so few cars on the road, that I should report it. But without a cell phone (this was before everyone and their dog had a cell phone), my only option was to find a pay phone. There was a Dominick’s grocery store right off the ramp. I pulled into the lot, spotted a pay phone, went to the phone and made a call to 9-1-1. I explained what I saw and the location in relation to the exit ramp, that I had no earthly idea how the car ended up flipping like that only that this is what I saw, and that it rebounded back into the Southbound lane. Even as I was calling, I wasn’t completely sure I was lucid, until the operator confirmed it. Halfway through my giving details, she paused, had a brief exchange with another operator and then came back to the receiver to tell me that two Southbound truckers were reporting the very same incident, with the very same details, the red car flipping onto the median. Then she asked me a question I will never forget.
“Do you think there were any survivors?” My vision came back, myself on the inside of the flipping car (the drivers perspective).Thinking the answer to this question might be the difference between sending an ambulance and police or police only, I responded “I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not sure,” while knowing in my gut that whoever was in the car died on impact.
Still shaking, I drove home very carefully and crawled straight into bed. For the next three days, I avoided news broadcasts and newspapers because I knew I couldn’t handle knowing who was in that car.
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