A DREAM: Abe Lincoln Stuck to a chair

September 22, 2020 at 5:21 am · Filed under Uncategorized

ABE LINCOLN STUCK TO A CHAIR

SEPTEMBER 12, 2020

I was standing, in what appeared to be a nicely lit living room of a small house, when a Caucasian lady in her mid-to-late thirties, emerged from the adjoining room. She looked at me and softly pleaded, “Come help me.” I followed her into the next room, which was much darker, but as I came in, I could see to my right, in the corner of that room, Abraham Lincoln, seated in a massive wicker chair which overshadowed his famously tall frame. His dark beard was speckled with white hair. He wore a white shirt, black jacket, a black bow-tie and his top hat in place. He also wore modern eyeglasses, not the reading spectacles of his day, but his eyes were closed. His head was tilted down, yet his posture was erect in the wicker chair. He seemed unresponsive, comatose and dead, so dead that I was wondering how the corpse of the 16^th president of the United States found its way into the corner of a darkened room.

The lady then asked me to help her move the chair away from the corner —with Abraham Lincoln still stuck in the chair.  She took one side and I took the other. Together, we somehow moved the heavy chair with the President only a couple of feet away from the corner of the darkened room. 

I was mentally shocked and dumbfounded over finding this melancholy man of the 19^th century who presided over this nation during the grips of a bloody civil war, sitting in a dark room of a small house, in the 21^st century. I decided to leave the room for a few minutes to regain my composure.

When I returned, to my surprise, I found the woman and Lincoln on the other side of the room.  She was gently patting Lincoln’s face trying to arouse him as he was still in the chair. He was either regaining consciousness, or rising from the dead. The former president tried to say something, but was incoherent. He slowly came to himself and then began even more slowly to get out of the wicker chair, which was much smaller than before. It had become a normal sized wicker chair that now revealed the tall stature of Lincoln. The chair had been positioned under a glass block window, which allowed the bright sunlight to shine through. And my dream ended.

A DREAM:

ABE LINCOLN STUCK TO A CHAIR

SEPTEMBER 12, 2020

I was standing, in what appeared to be a nicely lit living room of a small house, when a Caucasian lady in her mid-to-late thirties, emerged from the adjoining room. She looked at me and softly pleaded, “Come help me.” I followed her into the next room, which was much darker, but as I came in, I could see to my right, in the corner of that room, Abraham Lincoln, seated in a massive wicker chair which overshadowed his famously tall frame. His dark beard was speckled with white hair. He wore a white shirt, black jacket, a black bow-tie and his top hat in place. He also wore modern eyeglasses, not the reading spectacles of his day, but his eyes were closed. His head was tilted down, yet his posture was erect in the wicker chair. He seemed unresponsive, comatose and dead, so dead that I was wondering how the corpse of the 16^th president of the United States found its way into the corner of a darkened room.

The lady then asked me to help her move the chair away from the corner —with Abraham Lincoln still stuck in the chair.  She took one side and I took the other. Together, we somehow moved the heavy chair with the President only a couple of feet away from the corner of the darkened room. 

I was mentally shocked and dumbfounded over finding this melancholy man of the 19^th century who presided over this nation during the grips of a bloody civil war, sitting in a dark room of a small house, in the 21^st century. I decided to leave the room for a few minutes to regain my composure.

When I returned, to my surprise, I found the woman and Lincoln on the other side of the room.  She was gently patting Lincoln’s face trying to arouse him as he was still in the chair. He was either regaining consciousness, or rising from the dead. The former president tried to say something, but was incoherent. He slowly came to himself and then began even more slowly to get out of the wicker chair, which was much smaller than before. It had become a normal sized wicker chair that now revealed the tall stature of Lincoln. The chair had been positioned under a glass block window, which allowed the bright sunlight to shine through. And my dream ended.

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February 11, 2020 at 11:43 pm · Filed under Uncategorized

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