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when I was 6 years old with a 105 Temperature from Scarlet Fever. I talked in my sleep and gave my Mom and Grandma a perfect description of it. The man and lady are driving in a car. People are lined up on the streets waving flags. Pop, Pop. The man is slumping over and the lady is all covered in blood and "white stuff". People are screaming and running. I am all alone. Mommy, Mommy where are you? Take me away from here.
JFK was murdered on my 15th Birthday. When I came home from school, Mom met me at the apartment door, remnants of her baking my birthday cake all over, and she cried, "Our President is DEAD. On your birthday, just as you dreamed it as a little girl."
When I saw that film years later, it was EXACTLY as I had seen in my dream. I really think that fever opened doors for me for the rest of my life.
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