| I DREAMED THE HORROR OF SEPTEMBER 11, 2001
ON SEPTEMBER 10, 2001 |
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| Kelly L. Stone is a mental health professional and author who's recent publications include an essay in Chicken Soup for the Sister's Soul: Inspirational Stories about Sisters and Their Changing Relationships and the upcoming Cup of Comfort for Mothers and Daughters: Stories that Celebrate a Very Special Bond. [Editor's Note: this precognitive dream was presented to me by the author on the afternoon of September 11, 2001.]
The night of September 10, 2001, I had this dream: I am
standing in front of a large window, many stories above the ground. I
am basking in the beautiful blue sky, the brilliant sunshine. In the
distance I see a plane approaching, and I casually think that the
plane seems to be flying awfully low. I continue to watch it. With a
growing sense of horror, I realize that the plane is going to hit the
window I am standing in front of. I turn to run, knowing I will not
make it. The last segment of the dream is a total and complete blackout.
The next morning, September 11, 2001, I rose and went to
work just like everyone else did. I did not recall the dream at that
time. At 8:30 AM, I went into a meeting. At 9:30 AM, the Executive
Director of my company came in and solemnly announced that terrorists
had crashed two planes into the World Trade Centers in New York.
Thousands were missing and suspected dead. Everyone sat in stunned
silence for a few minutes, then several women started to cry. A few
of the men stood up and angrily demanded to know why, and how.
Finally everyone simply drifted out of the room, dazed and horrified. I went back to my office, not yet remembering the dream I had had just hours before. I sat at my desk and listened to the radio, to the sounds of anguished reporters talking about what was happening around New York, Washington, and a remote field in Pennsylvania. For the rest of the day I sat and stared at the white wall in front of me, steeped in despair. Coworkers wandered in from time to time, shaking their heads. Secretaries wept, grown men in business suits embraced in the hallways. It was a day of unfathomable grief.
It wasn't until I got home that night that I remembered
my dream. The realization of what I had foreseen caused me to sit up
in bed and gasp. I had had a precognitive dream of this horrific
event, seemingly seen through the eyes of one of the victims. But
why? And why me?
As I lay in the darkness contemplating these questions,
I remembered something else about my dream, something that had not
been so obvious prior to the events, but that now seemed like the
very reason I had received the dream. I went through the dream
sequence again- I recalled standing in front of the window and
watching the plane approach, slow and steady. I remembered turning to
run and knowing without any doubt that I would not make it. I
remembered the total blackout as death overtook me.
And then I remembered what happened just prior to the
blackout. As I was running, knowing that I faced certain death, that
my moments of life on the Earth were coming to an unexpected end,
instead of being angry and afraid, I was infused with the most
profound sense of peace I have ever felt in my life. It was a peace I
have never experienced in my waking life. I gave myself over to that
peace, and it comforted me in the very moment of my death. No, I did
not want to die, but I was not afraid. There was no misery or fear
associated with it. I simply accepted it, and when that total
blackout came, when my consciousness evaporated to the next level, that
feeling of peace went with me. It carried me through.
I do not presume to know what any of the victims of
9/11/01 went through, or felt, that day, nor do I presume to know how
any of their families felt, then or now. But what if one of the
victims in the World Trade Center gave this dream as a last gift, a
last offering, a message to be passed to those of us left behind
after his or her death; that no matter the circumstances, death is
not something to be feared; rather , the experience of death can be
one of the most profound and peaceful events of our lives. Who of us
still on the physical plane is qualified to carry this message? Only
someone who has already passed over, or who was about to pass over,
would be able to deliver this message of hope.
I can only pray that in the moment of my death, I will
feel the same sense of peace that this brave entity did. And I am so
grateful that he or she chose to leave behind this message of love
and hope in the midst of all that suffering, all that anguish.
What a beautiful legacy.
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| New Books By Kelly L. Stone |
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