The Morning Star Rising on the First Day

The Morning Star Rising on the First Day

THE ESP EXPERIENCES

After I entered elementary school, I started to encounter things that could not be explained by the laws of physics. Some would call these strange experiences ESP or extrasensory perception. For example, I would dream things that would come true and know things that were to happen before they occurred. The following story is one example of the kind of things that I experienced that are of this nature. 

Here is my story for today.

A BRICK WALL

When I was about ten years old, I had a dream in which I came to a red brick wall that blocked my path. In this dream, I became very frustrated searching for a way past the wall but not finding one. I started searching along the base of the wall to my left only to find a dead end. Then, I searched for a way around the right side of the wall only to find another dead end. I contemplated how I might be able to go over the wall, but it was just too tall, and there was nothing to grab on to, so I could not find a way over it either. 

Now if this were an isolated experience, it most likely would have been long forgotten, but I kept redreaming it nighty after night. As if I was in one big loop, continuously searching, for a way past the wall. For months this went on. Most often, the dream sequence would last most of the night, leaving me still trying to find a way to the other side when I awoke. 

This dream was a mystery to me as I had never seen a wall like this one, and I had no idea why it may be relevant to me. My innocents, however, was about to change.

One summer evening, I joined with a group of older neighborhood boys who were gathered just down the street from where I lived. Interestingly, some of these boys were the ones who had a great laugh on me in the boogeyman story. One of the boys had just acquired a used car. In the course of our conversation, he suggested that we all go down to Hastings Street.

I was by far the youngest one there and had no idea what Hastings Street was or why anyone might want to go there. If I had, I would not have gone with them. I found out years later that Hastings street was the black cultural centre of Detroit. It was famous for its bars and restaurants, and Jazz. It could be a dangerous place to be.

For some reason, all the boys all wanted to go, and I trusted their judgment and jumped in the car for what I thought would be a fun time. As we were in route, the driver started to take big gulps from a bottle of Orange Vodka that he had stashed under the driver’s seat. It seemed that in no time at all, he was quite drunk. In fact, by the time we got to Hastings Street, he was a sloppy, goofy drunk.

I was in the back seat between two of the other boys as we cruised very slowly down Hastings Street. I could see large numbers of people on the street, mostly just milling around. There were women in provocative clothes standing on street corners and under streetlights. I was so young that I didn’t know what this meant at the time either. We drove by bars that all had their doors propped open, and we could hear loud blues and jazz music as we slowly passed. I also remember that we passed a police car that had four officers inside. One of the boys said it was the big four, indicating that this part of town required Detroit’s toughest police.

The musician John Lee Hooker on Hasting Street

Then our intoxicated driver starts singing in a loud voice, “Don’t shoot until you see the whites of their eyes.” Then, being very amused with his newly created song, he let go with a loud belly laugh. Then he rolled down his window, hung his head out and sang it again, “Don’t shoot until you see the whites of their eyes,” followed by another belly laugh. I remember being embarrassed at first, but after a while, I started to become quite fearful. This activity seemed to be very stupid for white boys to be doing in a black part of town. 

There seemed to be no way to stop him either. He just kept repeating this song and laughing over and over again even though the other boys were shouting at him to quit and telling him quite emphatically to shut up. When he did not, they threatened him with physical violence if he didn’t stop. 

The car came to a red light, and we stopped for what seemed to be a very long time for me. It was when the light changed, and we had entered the intersection I saw the red brick wall through the windshield. A chill ran down my spine as we attempted a u-turn in the road. The driver was having difficulty in making the turn because of the stick shifter. Halfway through the turning process, I could see men coming from buildings and out of the alleyways. As they came toward us, I could see that they had baseball bats, lumber, and tire irons in their hands. They were coming from several directions.

 

After completing the U-turn, our drunk driver stalled the car. He attempted to restart the vehicle, but it would not start even though it turned over just fine. But the engine began to turn at a slow rate, indicating the battery was getting week. I could see that the groups of angry men were getting closer. Then I thought that it was possible we could all die here, and no one would ever know what happened. Then the distinct smell of gas filled the car indicating that the engine flooded. We had the driver push the accelerator to the floor and listened as the engine turned progressively slower. Suddenly, the clicking sound of the solenoid is all we hear. Meanting the battery lacked power to turn the engine. I then thought that we would all die. But for some unknown reason, the engine suddenly turned one more turn and roared to a full-speed start. Our driver, now seemingly very sober, dropped the shifter down into first gear and we peeled away. 

The angry men were running alongside and behind the car and started slamming the vehicle with their weapons. The sounds of the weapons striking the metal of the car were quite horrific. The car finally started pulling away from the mob, and we drove away safely. 

I am sure that if we had been there just a few more seconds, our fate would have met an unpleasant end. In looking back at this incident, I know that the dream of the brick wall was another warning from God. Also, I believe that the one extra turn of the engine was help from God as well. I know that one isolated case like this one could be a coincidence, but it is not just one case. I was being warned and protected again and again. Just read my previous blogs and look for the ones to come, and you will come to see how God works. 

God bless you and keep you always.

6/21/2020