Here's a little study in psychic synchronicity... I think.
Yesterday, my wife and I decided to play hooky from work and went shopping for antiques in a town about 10 miles from our home in the mountains of
North Carolina. Starting out at 8:00 am, we hit a number of consignment shops, antique malls, thrift stores, and even the
Habitat for Humanity
salvage yard. This activity consumed most of our day, and by 3:00 pm we had quite a collection of treasures in the back of our SUV.
Normally, we would be ready to call it quits after 7 hours of nonstop driving and rummaging, but my wife had a sudden inspiration —
Why don't we
try Belmont?
This was a pretty outrageous suggestion. Aside from the fact that it was mid-afternoon and we were both exhausted, the little town of Belmont was
nearly 40 miles away — it would be almost 4:00 pm by the time we arrived there, leaving us
maybe an hour to shop before the town started
closing down for the day. If we caught any heavy traffic
at all on the interstate, we would arrive too late. Plus, we hadn't visited Belmont
in 10 months, and we had no idea if the antique shops there were even
still in business. Beyond all that, such a lengthy and unplanned
excursion would be a totally
unnecessary waste of gasoline late in the day.
I thought about all of this for perhaps two seconds before I agreed with her idea, and so we set off for Belmont. This was sheer, inexplicable
impulse.
There was no traffic, so we made good time, and we reached Belmont a few minutes before 4:00 pm. As we entered the "historic downtown" area, my
wife pointed to the first antique shop we encountered, and we pulled in for a quick browse. She went straight inside, but I decided to have a
relaxing smoke on the sidewalk. The town was pretty much empty of pedestrians — as I mentioned, this town rolls up its sidewalks in the late
afternoon. I fired up a cigarette, strolled a few paces down to the corner and admired a Civil War-era mansion on the other side of Main Street.
I had just stopped at the corner, facing the historic home, when a 50-foot oak tree in its front yard
started keeling over, falling straight
toward me. No warning, no cracking noises, no nothing — the thing just
uprooted itself and
fell.
At the same moment, I realized that a small sedan had entered my field of vision, moving at maybe 35 mph straight into the path of the falling tree.
I made a prodigious jump to one side, shouting
STOP STOP STOP!!! As the startled driver locked up his brakes, the tree impacted the pavement.
The ground shook and I was splattered with flying tree limbs and mistletoe — out in the middle of Main Street, the car had come to a stop with
one foot to spare. No exaggeration. A half-second later, and the car and driver would have been crushed flatter than day-old beer.
Well, it goes without saying, the driver was pale and wide-eyed (and probably needed a clean pair of shorts), and he kept repeating
"Was God
looking out for me or WHAT??" for several minutes, until after the local police and fire crews arrived on the scene. My wife was crying, also,
when she realized that I had been right there in the path of this freaky event.
It wasn't until we were on our way home that we started pondering the
extraordinary coincidence — almost as if we had been
called
upon to travel 40 miles out of our way, late in the day, to a sleepy little town, to be in the exact place and moment to
prevent the death of a
total stranger. I mean, we're talking about a matter of a
half-second between life and death. If we hadn't made that unnecessary
excursion, for whatever reason, that guy in the sedan would be dead. No question.
I'm not looking for confirmation from anybody —
I know what happened, and I know it was phenomenal. Rather, I wonder how you would
categorize this event — an instance of psychic synchronicity, a connection between myself and a complete stranger, or the intervention of a
third
party, guiding the events that transpired, playing us like pawns in a hair-raising cosmic game?
— Doc Velocity