"Dear Editor": These things I know

"Dear Editor":

These things I know

[From The Rosicrucian Digest November 1962]

One winter morning in January, 1917, I was walking up Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, D.C. Near the corner of Fourteenth Street, I heard the music of a funeral procession--that of Admiral Dewey.

The guard of honor of Navy officers in two ranks extended from curb to curb. Dressed in service blue and carrying swords, they made an impressive sight. As they executed the turn from Pennsylvania Avenue into Fourteenth, I audibly gasped. I had seen all this before in a dream a couple of nights ago. The whole thing, just as it was, and particularly the guard of honor making that turn. When I mentioned the experience to some friends, they ridiculed the idea.

* * *

I was on board an army transport that sank at eleven p.m. the night of May 14, 1918. On the morning of May 15, my wife, who was with her mother in Washington, D.C., did not appear for breakfast. When her mother called her, she said, "I am going to stay home until I hear from 'Pete.' His ship was sunk last night. I saw it when it went down into the sea. I saw the bow go under and the propeller was high in the air. I saw little boats all around, and I saw him going down a long ladder. I believe he is safe, but I am not sure. I can't do anything until I hear from him."

When the Washington Post arrived, a few lines on the front page stated that my ship had been sunk. No details were available, but before noon my wife received my cablegram announcing my safety.

* * *

Many years later, I received a critical injury one night at eleven o'clock, miles from the post where I was stationed and where my wife then was. At that hour she was awakened by hearing me call her. She said she saw me falling, and the experience seemed so real that she did not go back to bed.

I had asked the doctor not to call her until after seven the next morning. When he apologized for such an early call, she replied, "You didn't disturb me. I didn't go back to bed after he fell and called me."

--Colonel Perry E. Taylor

Rosicrucian Writings Online
"Dear Editor": These things I know [From The Rosicrucian Digest November 1962] One winter morning in January, 1917, I was walking up Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, D.C. Near the corner of Fourteenth Street, I heard the music of a funeral procession--that of Admiral Dewey. The guard of honor of Navy officers in two ranks extended from curb to curb. Dressed in service blue and carrying swords, they made an impressive sight. As they executed the turn from Pennsylvania Avenue into Fourteenth, I audibly gasped. I had seen all this before in a dream a couple of nights ago. The whole thing, just as it was, and particularly the guard of honor making that turn. When I mentioned the experience to some friends, they ridiculed the idea. * * * I was on board an army transport that sank at eleven p.m. the night of May 14, 1918. On the morning of May 15, my wife, who was with her mother in Washington, D.C., did not appear for breakfast. When her mother called her, she said, "I am going to stay home until I hear from 'Pete.' His ship was sunk last night. I saw it when it went down into the sea. I saw the bow go under and the propeller was high in the air. I saw little boats all around, and I saw him going down a long ladder. I believe he is safe, but I am not sure. I can't do anything until I hear from him." When the Washington Post arrived, a few lines on the front page stated that my ship had been sunk. No details were available, but before noon my wife received my cablegram announcing my safety. * * * Many years later, I received a critical injury one night at eleven o'clock, miles from the post where I was stationed and where my wife then was. At that hour she was awakened by hearing me call her. She said she saw me falling, and the experience seemed so real that she did not go back to bed. I had asked the doctor not to call her until after seven the next morning. When he apologized for such an early call, she replied, "You didn't disturb me. I didn't go back to bed after he fell and called me." --Colonel Perry E. Taylor

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