Dream of: 13 March 1977 "Assassin"
My father and I were in a room of a large house, watching a news program which reported that evidence had been found which linked a man to the assassinations of John Kennedy, Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy. The report declared the man had been present at two of the assassinations and copies of pictures taken of the man were shown. In one picture the man was wearing a uniform and was being held by a policeman whose fingers tightly clasped the man's shoulder blade so the man was unable to free himself.
Another foto pictured the man soon after one assassination. He was sitting on a conveyor belt and was being conveyed past the police. Now, however, the man apparently was no longer in custody, and even though he had been arrested after two of the three assassinations, he was now free and was being hunted.
I walked outside the room into a long hallway, along which ranged several large rooms. One spacious area in the hallway was undergoing some construction which allowed the hallway to be accessible from the outside. My father also walked into the hallway and looked into each room to make sure no one had sneaked in. He was concerned the man responsible for the assassinations might find his way into the house.
By the time my father and I returned to the room where the television was, the newsreel had ended. I mentioned to him that if the authorities could find evidence linking the man to Lee Harvey Oswald and Jack Ruby, the case would be pretty well sealed up. It was frightening to think one man could have masterminded all three murders.
Since my mother and my sister were outside waiting for my father and me, he and I prepared to leave. My father walked back up the hallway one more time to check everything.
As I looked up the hallway to where my father was, I noticed the door to one of the rooms was open and the lights were on inside. While my father cautiously proceeded toward that room, I turned and headed in the opposite direction, toward where my mother was waiting. As I passed another room I looked in and saw someone standing inside. Horrified, I recognized the person as the suspected assassin whose picture we had just seen on television. He was wearing a tee shirt with black and white horizontal stripes. Terrified, I continued walking past the room and I whispered loud enough so he might hear, "I didn't see anything."
What should I do? What should I do? Call my father? – I feared he would arrive too late. Run out to my mother? – I feared the man would attack her. I saw no way out of the dilemma – except for some possible stroke of good fortune.
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