Recently I was contacted by Scott Perry of Decatur, Illinois. He described a recurring dream that apparently has to do with our 1934 Flood. Here’s what Scott told me: “My recurring dream always starts this way and has never deviated. It’s haunted me all my life.
“My perspective is first-person, through someone else’s eyes. I’m on a sofa, sleeping. A woman I know to be my mother comes into the room yelling, ‘We have to go now!’ She picks me up and I slump my head against her shoulder. We run out of the house and into the dark night. I hear the wood screen door slamming shut behind us and we go down the steps. I feel like the house [where] we were was not my home. My father is already getting into the car, which is a 1930s sedan. My mother slides me into the center of the front bench seat and quickly climbs in. Then she puts me back on her lap and I am looking over her left shoulder.
“In the back seat, I see an older boy and a girl in vivid detail. The boy is in blue denim coveralls and a white shirt with light stripes. He is slightly older than the girl. She is wearing a white sundress with a light floral design on it, and black leather and buckle shoes with white lace socks. I can see she is frightened but she tells me it’s going to be okay. I see my mother has on a white plaid dress with an apron. My father wears tan pleated pants, suspenders and a white long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He has on a tan hat with a black striped band, 1930s style.
“I can make out the back window very well. The back seat is not close like today’s cars are, but further back about two-feet or so.
“In my dream, the car quickly pulls out. I can feel every hard bump the speeding car makes. My mother yells at my father, ‘We need to go faster’ and he replies that the car won’t go any faster. My mother is in a near-frantic state, a look of pure terror on her face. The whole car feels like an air of panic has set in. I look at the boy and girl over my mother’s left shoulder and they are scared, but I think they are trying hard not to show it, maybe for my sake. At this point, I see my long blonde curls come into my peripheral vision and my arms covered in the sleeves of a frilly nightgown. I think I must be a little girl in the dream.
“As I look out the back window, I see a muddy roiling wall of water and debris, like a tidal wave, come rushing at us. I’m trying to get my mother’s attention by hitting her shoulder. My mother turns her head and sees it and yells again at my father to go faster, but it’s too late. The car is hit by the water, jarring us hard. The water slams into the back of the car, pushing us along. The back window is blown in and it flies into the back seat hitting the boy and girl. Water pours in over the boy and girl, amid their screams. Dirty water fills the car and the water is rushing around the sides of the car then coming in the side windows.
“The shock of the water rips me from my mother’s grasp. My arm is outstretched and my fingers strain to hold on to her fingers. My mother is screaming at me to hold on, desperately trying to hold on to me, fingertips grasping at each other frantically. I lose my grip and I’m swept out the passenger side window. I’m under the water and I can’t breathe. I am drowning, water filling my lungs, but it is peaceful, not panicky. I can feel myself leave my body. Looking up through the water I can see a ball of light glinting at the top of the water, pulling me towards it. As I come out of the water, I see devastation everywhere. Muddy water as far as I can see, water up to rooflines.
“This is the point I have always awoken, panting and sweating. I was younger than 2 when I started having these dreams and, by the age of 4, I felt they were real and that I had actually died. I have been having the same dream, or memory, consistently my entire life.”
Scott has tried for years to find out if this dream that even today haunts him was based on a real event. He was watching a YouTube video that mentioned twin boys who died on New Year’s Day, 1934, in Montrose, California. The name Montrose sounded familiar to Scott. He Googled for “family of five die in car in flood” and “Montrose, California, 1934.” The first post he opened was an image of a car, upside down in a gully. He instantly recognized it as the car he was riding in in his dream. My name came up as someone who knows the history of the flood, so Scott contacted me.
Next week, I’ll tell you how that car in the photo lined up perfectly with Scott’s dream and how you, my readers, can help resolve some of the unknown aspects of this supernatural mystery.