[Following is a true story by Frankie, an actress friend of mine. JWS]

I had a premonition in 2005, a dream about the London terror attacks. I had the dream two weeks before I was supposed to go to London, and I was so scared that I told almost everyone who would listen.

My husband, Pete, and I were in Florida staying with friends while checking up on our rental property down there. On the fourth day of our stay, Pete received an emergency phone call from his mother in England. He came into my room, his face ashen, and told me that his youngest sister had been rushed into emergency surgery. After the surgeons saw the degree to which the cancer had spread, they deemed her case hopeless and gave her three to six months to live. Pete made the necessary arrangements and told the family, "We will be in London on the morning of July 7th."

Around that time, I started having terrible nightmares. In my dream, Pete and I were on the plane holding hands. All of a sudden, three men stood up wearing backpacks. They ran toward the cockpit and the plane exploded! I heard the loud boom, felt the fire and smelled the burning flesh! Somehow, I didn't feel the plane falling out of the sky but I woke up nearly screaming. For three nights I had the same dream.

Several days before we were supposed to go, I asked Pete if I could stay home. Pete asked me what I was afraid of, since I had been to England many times. "You surely can't be afraid of flying," he said. I told him, "I'm afraid of terrorists! I think if we go to England this time, something terrible is going to happen." Pete just smiled and said, "You're daft! We must go. This may be the last time we see my sister alive."

During the next couple of days, I told many people of my fear of going to England this time, although I didn't tell them why I was afraid because they would think I was crazy. One of my sisters suggested that I should get some sedatives, and I did so.

On the eve of our flight, I wrote two notes, one to my sons and the other to my youngest sister. I told them that if they were reading these notes, it meant that I had been killed in a terrorist attack, and I gave them instructions on how to distribute our belongings.

When we arrived at the airport, I praised the airport security for their precautions, saying, "If you're doing it for me, it means you're doing it for everyone!" Right before we boarded, I took some sedatives, and so I was knocked out for most of the flight. When we safely landed the next morning, I was still very sedated. Usually when we go to England, Pete and I will take the underground rails. But, in an unprecedented move, since I was so sedated, Pete decided to rent a car because there was no way he could have "carried" me and our luggage onto the train.

On our way to the rental office, there was an alert on the radio saying that there had been a bombing in London! Pete and I looked at each other wide-eyed. We told the van driver that I had dreamt of a terrorist act but had thought it would be on the plane coming over to London! The driver looked at me strangely from the rear view mirror.

During the time we were at the rental office, two more bombs were detonated. Our families were understandably worried because they remembered my frantic phone calls about being afraid of flying to London. Later, I told Pete, "If we had landed one hour earlier and I hadn't had those dreams that caused me to be sedated, we would have been on the Kings Cross train around the time of the bombings."

Frankie
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Posted 2-05-08