posted on Dec, 6 2009 @ 08:00 PM
Like you good people, I've had many interesting, vivid dreams, most of the details of which having escaped me, disappointingly, within seconds of
gaining full consciousness in the morning.
I won't bore you with recounting them - except for one: a bona fide case of true precognition/clairvoyance.
This is an utterly true account:
I lived near the coast of Lake Michigan and one night I had an especially vivid, colorful dream that I had driven down to the shore on a stormy
morning, stepped out of my truck and began walking down the beach. Although the storms had subsided, the waves were crashing loudly on the sand and
the water was frothed up foamy.
There was not another solitary person in sight, and I gazed up and down the beach wondering why there was nobody out. I remember thinking in my dream
that usually, even on brisk mornings, one would come across a couple jogging or someone walking their dog, etc. Anyway, in my dream I just kept
walking and marveling at how lucid I was, that I knew I was in a dream, on a familiar beach, and I just made a conscious (subconscious?) decision to
just enjoy it and go with the flow.
As I strolled along I purposely tried to absorb all that I could; the smell of the sand and the water, the screeching of passing sea gulls, the
rhythmic crash and backwash of the waves, the dark clouds and swirling wind, etc.
I started to pay attention to some of the flotsam and odd things the stormy waves had washed up onto the beach. Among the usual trash - plastic
bottles, tennis balls, etc., I came across a small blue suitcase. It was one of those little hard-sided jobs, about the size of a briefcase. I
immediately stopped, bent over, and picked it up. it was rather heavy, and I shook it and heard some strange clanging or jingling noises inside. I
tried to open the case, but the clasps were rusted shut and even the seams were corroded and fused with sand and rust. I set the case down and beat
on it a couple of times with my fist to try and loosen the clasp mechanism. It didn't work. I set it back down and stomped on it with my foot,
jumped on it, and picked up and slammed it back down - nothing I did would loosen the frozen locks. I shouted loudly and cursed the damn thing. The
yelling startled me - and I suddenly woke up from the dream!
Well - I looked over at my clock on the nightstand - it was early, just after 5:00 am. I was sweating and shaking from the intensity and ordeal in my
dream. I thought for a moment that these vivid dreams are cool and all - but this was different. Much different. My heart was pounding, my mind was
racing. I sat up on the edge of my bed and heard distant thunder and looked out through my window blinds - a storm must've passed through during the
As I sat there I felt I was too shaken up to go back to sleep and my mind kept recounting the events in my dream. Might as well just get up, I
thought. As I stood up I heard a distant thunder rumbling again, and I immediately froze in my tracks as an overwhelming feeling of - something - I
can't describe it - like a feeling of an ominous event. It swept over me so strongly it made my skin crawl and get bumps all over.
I showered and almost as if on autopilot I knew I was going to drive down to the beach. I had several hours to kill before work, so I got dressed,
got in my truck and made the 10-minute ride to the coast. I stepped out of truck and the waves were crashing on the beach and the sky looked dark and
stormy exactly as it was in my dream. I looked up and down and saw not a sole as far as the eye could see.
I started walking, mindlessly plodding forward on the edge of the forward swash of waves and water on the sand. I scanned the beach at the water
break looking at the junk that was tossed up onto the sand, desperately hoping, of course, to spot a blue suitcase or attaché. Impossible, I
thought. This is ridiculous. Sure, there was plenty of garbage, fast-food containers, odd bits of this and that. I saw a child’s doll, one leg
missing, and remember thinking – well, at least you could’ve worn a blue dress!
I must have walked a mile or so along the sand and started feeling pretty foolish. I looked at my watch. It’s time to head back – work and the
real world are waiting. I took one last look up the beach before turning around. There! About 30 meters ahead – is it possible?!? I broke into a
run and ran as fast as I could...
I dug my feet into the sand and stared down at a blue plastic, hard-sided case! It didn’t look much like the one in my dream – but who cares!? It
was close enough! I bent over and picked it up – almost kissing the dang thing with joy! I shook it immediately and heard the same clanging noise
I heard in my dream! I tried the clasp, but the catches, again slightly different than in my dream, nevertheless were completely frozen shut. I
already know beating and stomping on the case wasn’t going to do any good, so I looked up and down the beach to see if anyone was watching (why did
I do that? – finders keepers, no?).
Still nobody at all in sight, so I tucked the case under my arm and ran all the way back to my truck. I opened the door and tossed it in onto the
seat next to me. I drove home, took it up to my apartment, and sat it on the kitchen table. It looked like a lady’s cosmetic case. The handle was
missing from the top. The water had corroded the locks, the seams, and all metal parts – it must have been in the water for a long time, I
I went to my toolbox and brought back pliers, a saw, a hammer, a chisel, and an awl. I was absolutely going to get that thing open and I was going to
do it right now!
I couldn’t believe how hard it was to break the clasp free. First one, then the other. The second one I had to shear off the case completely.
Damn! The stupid case still would not open! I hit it along the seam between the two halves of the case with the hammer. No good. I put it on the
floor and really bashed at it, eventually splitting it, slightly at first, and the enough to where an opening several inches long by an inch or two
high opened up.
Impatient, I lifted it up and peered inside. It was dark, and smelled funny, like something very old and rotten - it had a tinny, musty odor to the
I shook it and felt whatever it was inside was stuck together but with all my banging and shaking was breaking free. Aww – it’s probably just
some old lady’s make-up and stuff, I thought. Maybe there’s a piece or two of jewelry inside – maybe the owner’s identification!
I turned the case on its side with the opening facing down on the table and began shaking it violently. Through the opening, falling onto the table
was first a few coins, then more coins. Some of the coins were wrapped in like a cardboard and plastic cellophane display thing.
I had a pile of some thirty coins on the table and picked up a few. I didn’t recognize them. They were foreign. British, I thought. There were
half-pennies, farthings, stuff like that – coins I’ve never seen before. I had no idea what they were worth or even how much the face values
compared to US currency. They were definitely interesting, however.
I shook the case again and felt there was still something inside that couldn’t fit through the opening I made. I finally decided the case was not
worth saving so what am I worried about and just tore into the dang thing with the saw. I peeled back the plastic flap I cut and saw a large clump of
more of these coins all stuck together in one large mass. I took the clump over to the sink and began prying the individual pieces loose.
Well, when I finished cleaning everything up I had pile of perhaps 200 old British coins on my kitchen table. All were these rather large
copper-looking farthings and such, most of them dated in the 1800’s. Most of the coins appeared to be part of a coin collection of some kind, as
there were many wrapped in those protective see-through holder things. Many were just loose, however.
There was nothing else in the case. No identification, nothing. That evening I called a friend who I knew collected coins and recounted the story.
He said he’d come over to have a look. When he came over I could tell he absolutely was having trouble accepting the whole dreamed-it-first
scenario, but there was no denying the result of the find still heaped on the table.
We made a list of all the coins and I asked him if he had any idea of their worth. He admitted he didn’t know much about British coinage, but since
they appeared to be all small denominations and no precious metal among the lot, he concluded the value was probably not much.
Regardless of the dream, we both wondered how a cosmetic case full of British coins would wind up on the shores of the great Lakes? We guessed it
might have been someone’s collection and was either dropped or thrown overboard – at least a year or more prior to my finding it. Of course, we
had no way of knowing for sure when, who, where, or why this blue case ended up where it did or where it originated from.
My friend agreed to take the coins to a dealer he knew that could assess the value better. The following week he called me and said that he did so
but that he had some bad news: Someone had broken into his car and taken the coins along with some other items that were together in a backpack. He
was quite upset and I believe him, he’s very trustworthy and we were friends for years.
My friend did say, however, that the dealer estimated most of the coins to be worth, at most, a few dollars each, a bit more for the older, rarer, or
better-condition ones. The dealer didn’t so a full appraisal – just a quick look-see favor for a friend - But all in all, the entire case-full
was probably not worth more than a few hundred dollars – certainly less than five hundred.