Has anyone ever had a premonition?

I have. one night I had a dream that my friends were coming home from their trip to europe even though they werent suppose to come back for another week and they next day there were home!

ok this going to sound freaky, but happens to me quite often. most memorable is right before my grandmother died.

This isn’t a premonition… just a weird occurrence.

I dreamt that I was headed to my uncle’s house… not routine so it stood out in my mnd. I came to a large river. A bridge made of bones was the only means of crossing. No side railings… just a flat section perhaps 8 foot in breadth. Halfway across I noticed what to my mind at the time seemed to be a carriage of Old Order Mennonites coming from the opposite bank. A father leading on foot… wife and children on the front bench. They were grey… black and white… the rest of the dream had been in vivid color… The carriage wasn’t a carriage but a covered wagon… grey too… and mildewed. I couldn’t backtrack… had come too far and the height of the bridge was such that having come that far was vaunting enough… I simply couldn’t risk it again. When we met… I weaved myself between the man and his belongings… I mentioned how odd this bridge of bones was to break the tension… but he said nothing… just continued on. I made it to my bank and looked behind to see how far the wagon was in crossing… and it wasn’t there… we met much closer to my destination than theirs… and I must have been travelling at a greater pace. But it was out of sight… and I woke up. A lucid dream that stuck with me.

A few years later and I had found a book in the library of hauntings in the area. I thumbed through to the local chapter. I read about will-o-th’ wisps… and haunted civil war battlefields… then something that caught my attention… “The Ghostly Caravan of Ditmore’s Ford.” I knew Ditmore’s Ford well… as a kid it was still a ford on Drake’s Creek.

Legend had it in the early 19th century… local settlers westbound when crossing Drake’s Creek at the ford met a ghastly caravan… a family that attempted a crossing during inclimate weather and succumbed to the bloated creek.

As I read something hit me… the dream a few years back and the realization. The uncle I was visiting in the dream lives on Ditmore Ford Road 1/4 mile from the ford… I must cross Drake’s Creek to get there. I recall my spine tingling for a moment and then reviewing the face of the man of the dream in my memories… it is a face that has stuck with me. I didn’t know it… I do now… it is my own desperate face.

Peculiar… not a premonition… just weird.