The Morning Star Rising on the First Day

The Morning Star Rising on the First Day



After I entered elementary school, I started to encounter things that could not be explained by the laws of physics. Some would call these strange experiences ESP or extrasensory perception. For example, I would dream things that would come true and know things that were to happen before they occurred. The following story is one example of the kind of things that I experienced that are unexplained scientifically. 

Here is my story for today.


When I was about ten years old, I had a dream in which I came to a red brick wall that blocked my path. In this dream I became very frustrated searching for a way past the wall but not finding one. I started searching along the base of the wall to my left only to find a dead end. Then, I searched for a way around the right side of the wall only to find another dead end. I contemplated how I might be able to go over the wall but it was just to tall and there was nothing to grab on to, so I could not find a way over it either.

Now if this was an isolated experience it most likely would have been long forgotten. However this was not the case as this dream kept repeating, as if it were in one big loop in which I just kept searching, over and over again for a way past the wall.

In addition to this I had this same dream sequence repeated over and over again for the next several months as well. Often, the dream sequence would last most of the night leaving me still trying to find a way to the other side when I awoke. All of this was a mystery to me as I had never seen a wall like this one and I had no idea why it may have been important to me. My innocents however, was about to change.

One summer evening I joined up with a group of older neighborhood boys who were gathered just down the street from where I lived. Interestingly, some of these boys were the ones who had the great laugh on me in the bogeyman story. One exception was that one of the boys had an older brother there who had just acquired a new car. In the course of our conversation the big brother suggested that we all go down to Hastings Street.

I was by far the youngest one there and had no idea what Hastings Street was or why anyone might want to go there. If I did I would not have gone. I found out later that Hastings street was considered to be the black cultural center of Detroit. It was famous for its bars and restaurants and it’s Jazz music. It was known as a place where a person could get what ever one wanted. In addition, it was a black neighborhood where the residents all knew each other and they were always cautious about strangers.  

But the other boys all wanted to go and not knowing any better, I simply jumped in the car for what I thought would be a fun ride. As we were in route the older brother started to take big gulps from a bottle of Orange Vodka that he had stashed under the driver’s seat. It seemed that in no time at all he was quite drunk. In fact, by the time we got to Hastings Street he was a sloppy, goofy drunk.

I was in the back seat between two of the other boys as we cruised very slowly down Hastings Street. I could see large numbers of people on the street. There were some just milling around, I’m not sure why,  others were walking, presumably going somewhere. There were women in provocative clothes standing on street corners and under streetlights. I didn’t know what this meant at the time either. We drove by bars that had their doors propped open and we could hear loud blues and jazz music as we passed by. I also remember that we passed a police car that had four officers in it. One of the kids said it was the big four, who had a reputation for toughness. So this part of town required Detroit’s toughest police.

The musician John Lee Hooker on Hasting Street

Shortly after we passed the police, our totally sauced driver started singing in a very loud voice, “Don’t shoot until you see the whites of their eyes.” Being very amused with his newly created song, he let go with a loud belly laugh. Then he rolled down his window, hung his head out and sang it again, “Don’t shoot until you see the whites of their eyes,” followed by another belly laugh. I remember being embarrassed at first, but after a while, I started to become quite fearful. This activity seemed to be very stupid for white boys to be doing in an obviously black part of town. 

There seemed to be no way to stop him either. He just kept repeating this song and laughing over and over again despite the fact that the other boys were shouting at him to quit and telling him quite emphatically to shut up. The next thing I knew, the other boys in the car were threatening him with violence stating that they would all jump on him and beat him if he didn’t stop.

While all of this was happening the car came to a red light and we stopped and waited for it to turn green so that we could get out of there. When the light changed and we had started across the intersection I saw it through the windshield. A chill went down my spine as the car slowed down before the red brick wall that blocked the entire roadway. It was exactly like the red brick wall of my dream, and I suspected that there was no around this one either. We then attempted a u-turn in the road but the car had a manual transmission, and the driver was having difficulty in making the turn. As we were about halfway through the turning process, I could see men coming out of the buildings and out of the alleys in front of the wall. More than that, they had baseball bats, lumber, and tire irons in their hands. They seemed to be coming at us from several directions. 

In the meantime, our drunk driver stalled the car just after he had turned it around in the direction back to the light. He quickly attempted the starter. Although the engine turned over and over again, it did not start. Then the starter began to slow down, indicating the battery was losing power. All the while, the groups of angry men were getting closer. Then a horrible thought came to me—it was possible we could all die here and no one would ever know what happened. Then the distinct smell of gas filled the car indicating that it was flooded. We had the driver put the accelerator to the floor to correct the situation and listened as the engine turned progressively slower. Then what we hoped would not happen became a reality, the engine stopped turning and all we could hear was the clicking sound of the solenoid indicating that the battery lacked the power to turn the engine over anymore. Then for some reason the engine turned over one more turn and roared to a full speed start. Our driver, now very sober, dropped the shifter down into first gear and we peeled away. 

The angry men were now running alongside and behind the car. Several of them were slamming the car with their weapons. The sounds of the weapons striking the metal of the car were quite horrific. The car finally started pulling away from the mob and we drove away safely. 

I am sure that if we had been there just a few more seconds, our fate would have met an unpleasant end. In looking back at this incident, I know that the dream of the brick wall was another warning from God.  In addition, I believe that the one extra turn of the engine was help from God as well. I know that one isolated case like this one could be a coincidence, but it is not just one case. I was being warned and protected again and again. Just read my prior blogs and look for the ones to come and you will come to see how God works.

God bless you and keep you always.