From John Mulrooney:

A dream I had on April 19, 1994


29) Dream


I am at my desk at work and I take a call from David Koresh. I am trying to talk him out of the compound, but I am extremely sympathetic to his cause. We talk for some time until I hear on the side of the line the ATF agents breaking in and I know that it is all over. I hang up and open the drawer on the left hand side of my desk. I take out a piece of paper and take a magic marker from the container and write "Next door watching Waco burn" on it. I then take tape from the tape dispenser and post the note on my office door and go into Jon Marko's office where there is a television. I can see the fire engulfing the compound in Waco and Jon is seated at this desk with his feet up watching it. He is wearing blue jeans and a red button down shirt.

I do not make much of this dream, I simply get up and go to work as usual. It didn't even "feel" like a prophetic dream, not one I would ordinarily be compelled to write down. There is usually a feeling that accompanies a certain kind of dream, a feeling that it was sent, has origins outside of yourself, and must be written down. I didn't have this sense then. I went to work and several hours later hear a commotion in the streets. There has been a bomb scare at the JFK Federal Building and everyone who works there has been sent home, so the streets are filled with them. I hear that the Federal building in Oklahoma City has been hit, probably by the black Muslims,(who were the first reported culprits). I reach into my desk, on my left, take out a piece of paper and write "next door - Oklahoma) on it and tape it to my door. When I round the corner to Jon's office and see him with his feet up in a red shirt and blue jeans, I remember the previous night's dream.



A dream from the mid-1990s



Dream



I have this written down elsewhere in greater detail. I am walking through a very similar wood to the wood I walk through in many of these dreams. Except this time I am aware that I am at a fairground. Its still pretty thick though, woods wise. There will be a clearing every so often along the trails that is pretty spacious, but for the most part the woods around it are thick. There are little groups of people everywhere, some staying with the group, others mixing freely with the others. It is to be a convergence of all world religions and you see people of all stripes, some identifiable in their faith, others less so, there are a lot of Amish at one point and they are intersected by the Rosicrucians. There are hundreds of people along the trails all trying to get to the big meeting place. I come upon parking lots where groups of Orthodox Jews and Zoroastians and Hindus are getting out of their Minivans and SUVs and packing their coolers with food and water. The meeting point is apparently far away. I realize that I have to get there too, but also that I seem to have some sort of coordinator responsibility. I have a clipboard and items to check off. Jesuits walk by mixed in with Tibetan monks. Domincans and Witch Doctors trade information on the shortest route. I take off on a small trail into the woods, knowing that I am going the right way, well actually, it was never in question, I didn't know I was going the right way only because I hadn't thought to know it. The woods spread out some. I realize there is a figure walking behind me. I can imagine what the figure looks like: tall, maybe twelve feet, in a black cloth covering most of its body, also a hood of some sort, and possibly, a head shaped differently from a humans, but I couldn't tell. This is the figure who will help me with my task. I need to make sure there will be enough port-o-potties and parking and medical tents and all myriad types of logistical matters. The figure and I discuss the matters practically. After a while, I say "I know who You are…" sort of coy and sly, The figure grunts which I take to mean "Okay,…out with it", "You're the Muslim deity Allah" I turn and the figure shrugs as if to say "Okay, …you got me". The strange thing is, this doesn’t interfere with us one bit. I turn right around and go back to discussing the logistical plan.



A dream from the mid 1990s



5) Dream



I am going out to my brother's place of work to cover a shift for him. He still works at the Dedham Plaza, but it isn't really a liquor store, more of a coffee/convenience place. I show up and the shelves are pretty much bare. In fact, the entire store is empty with the exception of a bench at the back which has a automatic drip coffee maker on it and a small rack for doritoes. Underneath this is a small dorm type refrigerator. I realize that I will have to stock the store, but as I am the only employee I am a little afraid of leaving the place unattended (I don't know how I got in). I go to the front of the store to see if the coast is clear. I do this several times and sometimes that I go there, I am at the plaza and the parking lot is outside. Other times the store is in a mall that is entirely inside. I know I have to make a break for it when we are inside, because I need to stock the store with the fruit drinks that are in the drug store across the mall that only exists when we are in the "inside" mode. I make a couple of attempts but decide to go back before I get halfway across the mall. I seem to think that it's going to switch while I am halfway across. I get about halfway across one time and a janitor who is maybe 30 meters from me says "what are you afraid of? There's nobody else here. Go get the stuff, no one's going to come in." I decide to trust him and half because I had decided that and half because I didn't want it to appear that I was more worried about my existential dillema than the security of the store, I go across the mall and pick up a milk crate full of VeryFine products and little creamers. I make it back to the store and put the stuff away. It looks like there really aren't going to be many or perhaps any customers, so I decide to read a book. I take a stool out and place it in the middle of the floor. I begin to read a leatherbound book of Seamus Heaney's work that has charred pages and is written in Latin which I seem to understand. I get to one page (some titles are from Heaney's actual work, some I do not believe are) and there is a face on the page speaking to me. I have the sense that there is something demonic about this book and the face is muttering some incantation. I put the book down when I see that customers are entering. It turns out to be Fred Marchant and Alberto Mendez. They have come to me to settle a question about the work of Neruda. I don't remember what the questions was, but in the course of our conversation, I recite all of "Amor America" in Spanish. They leave after a while and I go back to "tending" the store. At what seems to be the end of the day the boss, Tony Terrazzi (a local Dedham gangster for whom my brother did work) comes back and complains about how I've been running things. I tell him not to give me a hard time because I run a company with a budget of…and I give him a figure (I forget it now, but I added up the entire budget of the department I then worked in the next day, Something I hadn't done before…I had it to the penny) I go to leave and get on the bus back towards Forest Hills and Jamaica Plain. I get off in a place that appears to be Franklin Park Zoo, or Jamaica Pond. I am watching two creatures who seem to be half wild boar, half stuffed animal and it is impossible for me to determine whether or not they are having sex or in mortal combat or both. They will claw into one another, one slash will rip flesh and send a splatter of blood across everyone there and the next will send some stuffing floating through the air. It is a chilling scene that I wake with. But the really weird part is that Todd, my roommate wakes at the same time (roughly 4:45 am) from a dream in which he was being chased as a possible murder suspect that ended in a place like Jamaica Pond (part of the emerald necklace park system which includes Franklin Park) where he could see across the pond two creatures that seemed not quite human having a violent sexual encounter, with people watching them. Likewise my roommate Dave had a dream that he couldn't remember the first part of but that it wound up at a place like Franklin Park where he saw me looking over a cage of animals that appeared to be humans with leather skin having a violent orgy. I tell him to look at this and isn't it great. Dave also woke from his dream at around 4:45 am.



A dream from the mid 1990s



3) Dream



Okay, so I am watching the Merv Griffin show and it is alternating between black and white and color…it is also not quite hosted by Merv Griffin…although he is the recognized svengali, he merely hangs back…visible only in occasional pan shots behind the band or waiting in the wings...most of the guests are introduced and interviewed by a former airplane mechanic who plied his trade on US service aircraft on his native American Samoa. And the lap steel/Hawaiian guitar player from the band has one of those heads of birds that you often see depicted on ancient Egyptian interiors, and is speaking about matters that I understand at the time, but am less clear on now. (He is Horus, I believe) The heart of his matter was allegorical and told through liberal use of stories of old Hollywood which he seems to know very well. At times it appeared he was a zen like Ed MacMahon or Paul Schaffer…being prodded by the mechanic with a one liner of the type that would probably only elicit a one-liner in response, but instead being met with a reflective sigh and followed with a long Homeric account of some starlets rise and fall or the jealousy and greed of some producer or the corruption of some would be writer into a hack. Occasionally, the bird creature would address me personally through the TV screen, mostly offering tips for lap steel playing, explaining tricks of the great Sol Hoopi or King Bennie Nawahi, both of whom he'd also coached. I t should be borne in mind that I watch this show on several tvs which are outside without any apparent source of power…I am walking through a swampy glen that has a fairly clear path and every ten feet or so there is another television hooked to a tree with this program on. It seems to be guiding me through. I eventually arrive at a trailer which has smoke coming out of the chimney and enter and wait for my sister who does arrive and it is apparently her trailer and she mentions something about the divorce between our parents and we make some food and sit down to watch the rest of the program. When we do so, all the people on the show, band (which is a huge jazz orchestra) cast and crew alike all sit down to eat the same dish from the same plates and glasses as us, The angle they eat at is such that their table appears to be an extension of ours. The bird head guy politely hanging his head down just a bit and covering his open beak with his hand….a consummate gentlebird