The Dream Barrier

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The Dream Barrier

Could dreams cross over into reality?
Saturday 5 April 2014


We all dream but understand it is normal to forget what we dream, shortly after awakening.  However, there are a few dreams that manage to stick in our minds, for better or worse.  But what if you fell asleep, and found yourself in the midst of the strangest of all dreams.  When you awoke, you discovered that your dream had crossed over some kind of barrier, into the real world.  There’s no such thing as a dream barrier you say!  The human mind is exceedingly powerful, even so, only a small portion is ever fully utilized. Join us as we together, cross over The Dream Barrier!



By James McMillan

Battle of Shiloh took place at Shiloh Tennessee an area on the west side of the Tennessee River. It was Sunday and Monday, 6 and 7 April 1862; General Albert Sidney Johnston, General P.G.T. Beauregard verses General Ulysses S. Grant. The Casualties were: 10,694 Confederate, 13,047 Union!

My wife Alicia and I decided to attend the reenactment of the battle, particularly since the 6th and 7th would fall on the same days of the week as it did in 1862, Sunday and Monday. We arrived in Savannah Tennessee late Saturday morning the 5th, and checked into one of those small town motels in Savannah. Savannah is located on the east side of the Tennessee River, just across from Shiloh on west side, not far from the northeastern Mississippi line. The motel was located along route 64 running from Chattanooga to Memphis.

We hadn’t eaten breakfast so we unloaded our luggage and set out to locate a Mom and Pop Restaurant that was said to be just down the road. The family had been to Shiloh Battlefield Park a number of times over the years, but in order to avoid the unexpected, we drove across the river. Once at the park we gleaned any information we could about the schedule for the following two days. It was a pleasant day so it was decided to drive around the county and r reacquaint ourselves.

A days running he worn us down, so we decided take advantage of the facilities at the motel, and turn in early. It didn’t take long until all three of us were fast asleep, and it was a good thing; since the next day would prove to be full of activity, more so then had been the last couple of days. It was for me a restful nights sleep, but daytime came all too soon. After hesitating for a while to face the day, I finally opened my eyes. After turning about in the bed for a while, I sat up.

Looking about the room I was shocked to say the least; where was I, this isn’t my motel room in Savannah Tennessee? And where is my family, my wife and daughter? I never drink or take drugs; so what happened, while I slept? My first reaction was to step outside, so as to get some idea as to what gad taken place; perhaps I could make some sense of the situation, as to when and where I am. Maybe I was still half asleep, but as I stood I realized, I am fully dressed, how could that be.

When I turned in last night, I had undressed and put on my pajamas. However, here I am fully dressed in my street closed, but even my close are different then I had worn before. Yesterday I was wearing dress pants and a quarter sleeve sports shirt, now had on a pull over shirt, Levis and a pair of work shoes, which were full of dirt and mud. What happened is this some kind of might mare? After looking about in several directions, it seemed it as though I had awoken to chaos on the streets.

People were running to and fro, there was the noise of sirens, and of all sorts noise. Noticing a gray haired black man rushing by, I stopped him and ask; what’s going on, where I am I, when am I. I’ve awaked from my motel bed to what looks and sounds like total anarchy. The aging black man nudged me aside; what motel Mister, I see no motel around here. I looked behind me; sure enough there was noting but what looked to be a burned out two story shop or store.

Living in a Nightmare

The old Black man look at me with a somewhat bewildered look on his face, “Man where have you been, in some kind of trance.” Please sir, I know how crazy it sounds, but I have no ideas as to where or even when I am! The black man reached out his hand and introduced himself, “I am Nicholas Huntsman, people call me Nick. I assume something has happened to you, so I’ll tell you want I can. Your in down town Columbia South Carolina, its Wednesday 9 April 2025.”

We shook hands and I tried to explain to Old Mister Nick, that I went to sleep last night, and it was Saturday 5 April 2014. My family and I were staying in a motel in Savannah Tennessee, now, I wake up to, what I don’t have any idea. Nick looked at me, “Man are you off base, half way across the country and your clock is 11 years out of time.” There was a portion of the buildings face, behind us that wasn’t burned, so we both walked over to it and sat down on an old wooden bench that was resting there.

“So you really don’t know what’s going on here, ask the old black man!” I glanced at Nick briefly, while responding to him, as best I could. No Nick, I have absolutely no idea, I went to sleep last evening with my wife and daughter with me, in Savannah, and woke up to all this, 11 years later. The look on Nick’s face changed from bewilderment to pity, for a man totally confused and unaware, as to what was going on about him. So he tried to explain, as if speaking to a man just arrived from some far away galaxy.

“Over the past sixty years my people have blamed the white man for seemingly everything. The prisons are filled with black men, its whitey’s fault. A burglar flees the scene of a crime and gets shot by the police. Its not the burglars fault, it whiteys, and the blame game went on and on, endlessly. We’re entering the fifth generation since slavery ended, but still, the blacks have not been willing to join the great melting pot, which is society.

They refuse to advance on their own, which is their initiative, refuse to take advance of the educational opportunities offered them. My people have spent so much time blaming whitey, they’ve lost track of the truth. They were given their freedom 160 years ago, and they turned their freedom into vengeance and a hatred, of everything that reminds them of the white man. Jim, he said, I have a white friend, whose my age now, but during his younger years, he worked and studied, worked and studied.

All this was done in order to advance himself, which was not unlike so many white folks I know? In the meanwhile, my people hung out on street corners, form gangs, engaging in drive by shootings, drugs and all manner of criminal activity. Then they wonder why they can’t seem to do better in a predominantly white society! Everything is whitey’s fault, never their own! Well the hatred of white people, the police and society itself, finally came to a head, and whitey’s patience ware thin.

Finally the white people turned on the black protesters, the black complainers, and the black leadership.” I looked at ole Nick for a moment, the responded! “How did all this chaos come about, are there no leaders on either side that came bring things under control?” Nick looked about, down both sides of the street, fearing the violence would come their way. “Mister Jim, no black man in this country thought for a moment, that the white man was organizing behind the scenes. Organizing just in case thing got out of control, as they now have.”

The Civil Peace Forces

I was stunned, our family trip has turned into a nightmare; it was common knowledge the Black had their complaints. There were protests, and even a certain measure of violence, usually based upon misinformation. But out and out nationwide chaos! “Mister Jim, the White People quietly, behind the scenes formed an Army, one quite large. Their Army covers every single State!” I looked at my new friend Nick, “You mean they formed a Militia!” Nick glanced at me, knowing I had no knowledge the situation, “No sir, replied the old black man, a full fledged Army, a very powerful army.”

“Why didn’t the Federals step in and end the chaos“, I ask Nick! Ole Nick again glanced over at me, “Both political parties feared loosing the black vote, so they refused to step in, even when the States were being overwhelmed. The Federals continued to blame the white people, even though whitey wasn’t involved, one way or the other!” Suddenly Nick arose from his seated position, turned to me, “I’ve got to go, there comin.” I didn’t even have enough time to ask why, which’s coming, until my new black friend, ole Nicholas Huntsman, was gone.

I had barely sat back down, wanting to think over what Nick had said, when up drove a military type of Jeep, of a type I had never seen. I could see what appeared to be a Corporal driving, with a Sergeant Major seated in the front passenger side. In the rear I detected a Lieutenant General, but the Uniform, was not familiar to me. The Sergeant Major called out, “over here sir, in the back seat.” I stood to my feet, walked over and climbed into the back seat, sitting beside the General. As we drove away, the General, turned to me, “I am General Martin Manley, Commander, Civil Peace Forces, or C.P.F. if you like.

I don’t know who you are Mister, but you must move on, the space you are occupying will soon be a war zone in short order.” As we drove away, I looked back, the General ordered his driver to slow down. I turned to look behind me, and just as sure as the General had said, the street was filled with gunfire and blood. In that same location, in which I had been speaking to my friend Nick, came a well equipped, disciplined, massive armada, destroying all resistance in their way. The Jeep stopped, and the General spoke to a Colonel, whose own vehicle pulled alongside, the commander of the massive armada.

Meanwhile I happened to looked down and noticed my shoes and clothing; they were filled with mud, blood and all manors of fragments, as if I had already been in the thick of the fighting. Suddenly I began to feel trapped in an untenable situation. I had to escape this living nightmare, so I looked over at the General, who attention was on the Colonel. I quickly opened the door of the jeep jumped out and ran, where to I wasn’t sure. Just anywhere but where I was at the present time. But the more I ran, the heaver was the fighting.

As I continued to run, I found myself stepping over seemly hundred and hundreds of bodies, casualties of the battle. Suddenly it occurred to me that gun fire was now aimed at me, but coming from an enormous number of blacks moving down street. I had no choice; I slowed my pace, looked about and found a discarded rifle. At closer look, I recognized it from pictures I’d seen in past years. It was the Bushmaster ACR Assault Rifle! I had never used any kind of weapon like it, but I was knowledgeable enough so be able to use it for defense, so I picked it up.

Fire was coming from seemingly every direction, so I kept on running! The rifle has a clip in it, how many rounds I didn’t know how many rounds, so I disengaged the clip, it was obviously a full clip. I ducked down behind a burned out vehicle and began to return fire at anything coming my way. I am supposed to be in bed at a motel in Savannah Tennessee. What am I doing in the middle of a battle in Columbia South Carolina? My mind suddenly returned to the firefight round about me! I could see to my left an enormous crowd of armed blacks, and to my right the Civil Peace Force mowing down any armed resistance before them.

Time to Face My Creator

 This can’t be I thought, the nation was working toward racial harmony, but these black were hollering death to whitey, death to whitey. The CPF hadn’t reached the area, where I was crotched down in my defense. My only option was to keep on shooting, sparing, as long as the ammo lasted. Suddenly I was overwhelmed by a dozen or more large black men, all bearing various makes of assault rifles. One among them hollered, whitey, and they all lowered their weapons, aiming them in my direction. I was a dead man, and I knew it, time to make peace with my maker.

I could hear their rifles click and the firing began! Just then I awoke from my sleep, I was back in our motel room in Savannah Tennessee. My wife and daughter hearing me make all sorts of noises, rushed toward my side of the bed. As it turned out, it was daylight and the two ladies had been up and about for some time. Alicia looked down at me with a concerned look on her face, “are you alright honey” she said? Yes, I think so; I must have had a bad dream! The two ladies returned to the bathroom, where they had been preparing for the day.

I sat up in bed with my head in my hands, looking down at the floor! Suddenly I noticed my shoes; they were filled with mud, blood and all manner of fragments, as if I really had been on a battle field. Hanging on a close stand in the corner, my pants and shirt were the same. Dear Lord I thought, where does the night mare end and reality begin? My daughter Melinda came out of the bathroom, still wearing her robe. “Are you sure you are alight daddy?” I looked up at my daughter, “yes sweetheart, I am alright now, are we about ready to go to the reenactment?”

Melinda gave me a puzzled look, “Daddy its Tuesday and we’re getting ready to go home. The reenactment was over yesterday!” Yes I said, of course! I kept my thoughts to myself, as we finished packing, had breakfast, and headed south toward the Panhandle of Florida and home. Alicia drove the first leg of the trip, while I gathered my thoughts. I hide my battle soiled clothing and shoes in a dark plastic band, buried in the forward part of the car drunk. It was my thought to allow the incident to pass, wondering, if it were actually real or just a horrible dream.

We arrived home safely and settle in to our daily routing, a month passed and the whole nightmare scenario seemed to have been buried in the events of a forgotten past. I had returned to my job as a driver of a large 15 passenger van, and was preparing for the day. It was Friday 8 May 2014, and I was looking forward to the weekend, as were many others. In the door came a man, whom I had never met, as far as I remember. He approached me with his hand outstretch, as a gesture for a hand shake. 
“Hello, said the gentlemen, my name is Martin Manley!”

I smiled, as I looked at Mister Martin Manley! My apologies sir, for a moment, I thought we had met before! The man smiled, “I hope the circumstances were pleasant!” We shook hands, and again the entire events of the nightmare in Savannah Tennessee, passed. But within my self I couldn’t help but recall, this man standing before me, does look exactly like the General Manley in my nightmare. But perhaps not, maybe it’s just a coincidence! Unknown at the time, but discovered later by chance, Martin Manley is a Full Bird Colonel in the National Guard.

God save the Confederacy

I’ve told the above story ‘The Dream Barrier’ for a reason, to point out a growing problem!  This is a problem, which if left unresolved, will at some point in the future, lead to a violent upheaval.  The racial division in the States is for the most part, manufactured by those who profit from racial hatred and division.  There’s no Black person alive, who has experience Old South Slavery, or even known an X-Slave, and only a dwindling number of elder citizens, have lived through ‘Jim Crow’ and segregation.

Yet all their problems are blamed on the white people, Jim Crow. Segregation, slavery and the police!   My recommendation is simple, stop hanging out on street corners, stop filling your veins with dope and alcohol, get an education, dump the white privilege excuse, and obey the law.  Locate a true Bible believing Church, one that teaches and preaches the Scripture, rather then Racial Division, Politices and Social Injustice.  Then attend this Church regularly, make the Almighty God, in Christ Jesus, the Holy Scipture and Prayer, your life!

Stop rioting every time a black man commits a criminal act, then gets stomped on for eluding police, for threatening police or for refusing to comply with a lawful police directive.  And might I add, end the hate police campaign, and in all this, you will find life much sweeter!  Naturaly there remains a choice, ignore what I’ve said, continue blaming others, and a violent upheaval is certain, at some point in the future. The hate and blame the police as well as whitey groups, will certainly not like the results, if they refuse!

The Dream Barrier tries to exemplify a real situation, in a very small way.  I recommend for all those effected white or black, heed the warning signs, and this old man's humble advise, while there is still ample time.


"The general principles on which the fathers achieved independence were the general principles of Christianity. I will avow that I then believed, and now believe, that those general principles of Christianity are as eternal and immutable as the existence and attributes of God." --- John Adams


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