Doctor Gustave Geley wrote:

“The veil which hides the future from us sometimes tears, just for a second, for certain individuals.  Honest scientists are obliged to recognize it;  but up until now, no-one has succeeded in explaining these phenomena.”

Here are three stories which admirably illustrate Dr Geley’s words.  All three show individuals who, either in a dream, or awake, clearly see an event belonging to the future, in all its details.  Even better, an event which could not otherwise have been forseen.  None of the people who had these visions were mediums and had never known any paranormal phenomena beforehand, or were to know any afterward.

These people were just like you and me, and their adventures can therefore happen to us too…

The first story is reported by the German Professor Rolf Reissman.  He writes:

“I was fifteen at the time.  I was on holiday with a few cousins at the home of one of my uncles, in a village situated near Schleswig.  One evening, all the men of the family were at the Society Choir, the women, the children and a few neighbours were together in the salon.  It was August and it was hot.  No-one wanted to go to bed and we stayed up playing different games.

“Suddenly, through the wide-open windows, we see a delivery van drawn by two horses stop in front of the house.  My grandmother wonders aloud who can be arriving at eleven o’clock at night.

“We approach the window and we see two men extract a big coffin from their van.  Carrying this sinister object, they approach the house, open the door – which is never locked – and penetrate the vestibule.  Terrified, we then see the two men try to enter the salon where we are.  But the vestibule being too narrow and too short, they are unable to turn the coffin.

“They take it back into the street, go around the back of the house, pass through the kitchen and try to enter the salon by the little passage-way which connects the two rooms.  But this passage-way has a bend in it, and there again the coffin cannot pass.

“The two men return to the street and, seeing a window open, penetrate through it into a bedroom next to the salon.  After a short moment, we hear very distinctly that the coffin is being nailed shut.  Then we see the two men leave through the window and get back in their van, which soon disappears.

“My aunt, my mother, my grandmother, the neighbours and myself were petrified with fear.  To the point that no-one dared go to bed.

“When the men returned from Choir, my aunt recounted what we had seen.  My uncle laughed about the coffin.  He thought that it was a good joke and wanted to see it.

“He led his brothers and brothers-in-law into the neighbouring bedroom.  We then heard my uncle burst out laughing, saying that he had really believed us.

“We peeked around the door.  There was no coffin in the bedroom…

“My uncle came towards us saying that we had played a good joke on him.  My aunt, very upset, assured him that we had all seen these people enter with a coffin.

“My mother, my grandmother, the neighbours confirmed her words in unison.  I, myself, gave a detail on the form of the van.

“But my uncle didn’t believe us.  He declared the farce to be finished and that it was time to go to bed.

“Which is what we did, in the end, without understanding what had happened…

“One week later, my uncle died suddenly.  As it was very hot, the doctor asked that he be put into the coffin immediately.  We waited for the funeral parlour employees all afternoon.  At eleven o’clock in the evening, their van stopped in front of the house.  They took the coffin, and we then watched the whole scene that had unfolded before us, hour for hour, minute for minute, one week before…”


The second story was reported by Air-Marshal Sir Victor Goddard, of the Royal Air Force.

One evening in January 1946, Sir Victor Goddard is with some friends in a Shang’hai bar.  Behind him, two officers, who have just entered, are chatting fairly loudly.  Suddenly, he hears one of them ask:

“Do you know whether Air-Marshal Goddard was killed tonight?”

The other replies that he doesn’t know…

Sir Victor Goddard turns around.  The man who had asked the question looks at him, dumbfounded:

“But, you’re here?”

And he shakes the Air-Marshal’s hand enthusiastically.  Sir Victor recognizes Commander Dewing of the British Navy.

“Yes, I’m here.  Why did you think that I was dead?”

Commander Dewing replies:

“Because I dreamed about it last night.  And in such a way that when I woke up this morning, I asked myself if it was really a dream…  Everything was so clear, so precise that I had the impression that I had witnessed your death…  Never have I had a dream like it.  I saw you crash onto a rocky coast, at the end of the day.  There was a terrible snowstorm and the wreckage from your Dakota was spread over the shore…”

As Sir Victor is supposed to leave the next day in a Dakota for the first time, he is slightly troubled.  He asks if he was alone on board.  He is told that there were several others.

“Two military men and three civils:  two men and a woman.”

Sir Victor is relieved.

“I only transport military people.  Your dream is not about me.”

And he leaves the bar.

That evening, he is told that he must exceptionally transport to Tokyo the Consul Georges Ogden, the Honorable Seymour Berry and Miss Dorita Breakspear, the presence of these three people being absolutely necessary in the Japanese capital.

This news gives Sir Victor a very bad impression.  However, he must obey.

The following morning, he takes off at five o’clock, and all goes well until the evening.  But around eight o’clock, the aeroplane, weighed down by ice, begins to fall.  A few hundred metres from the ground, it is in the heart of a terrible snowstorm which makes its leap and jerk infernally.  Finally, it is pushed to the ground.  There is a frightful noise and Sir Victor Goddard thinks he’s dead.

In fact, the Dakota’s pilot manages to avoid overturning and everyone in the broken aeroplane is alive.  When daylight comes, Sir Victor Goddard can see where he is.  It is exactly the way that Commander Dewing had described it…

To be continued.