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I was working at a bar in Hollister during the mid seventies, back when it was still cool to go out drinking. I made a pretty good wage, with tips helping out for gas and such. There were a lot of people out just having a good time, spending money. You could even smoke cigarettes in bars back them.

I lived about 40 miles out of town, on the Taylor ranch out by the Pinnacles. I had to drive home late at night, after bar hours. Highway 25 is not a good road to say the least. Thereís a long straight away that gradually gets worse, turning into some wicked curves and switch backs. You donít want to break down out there, as there are no gas stations for 80 miles and no phones along the way. This was before the average person owned a cell phone. But I was used to it and didnít mind the long drive. As long as I didnít have to live in town, it was worth it.

On this particular night I stayed after closing and had a drink with the bartender to wind down. We shared a couple of jokes and locked up and I headed on my way home. It was about 2:30 a.m. by that time and the streets were empty. This was back when Hollister was a real ďone horse townĒ and mostly full of farmers and family of farmers. Early to bed and early to rise. Now itís pretty much San Jose, a big town.

I owned a little volkswagen bug, with a six volt system and a short wave radio. It brought in stations from all over the world and I liked listening to what was going on around the globe. Really a strange little car, but great on gas. It would go for miles and miles between fill ups.

I drove down the straight section and thought about what I was going to do on my day off. I decided that I just wanted to sleep.

The road began to twist and turn and I knew every turn that was coming up. I could take the turns at 60 mph that were set at 25 mph. I became one with the road and knew just how fast the next turn to be taken would allow. There were no cops out that far back then, no DUIs for me. After two years of driving the same road day in and day out, sober or not, it was second nature.

I was coming up to Bear Valley Grade and thought about the time several wild pigs came running across the road. I had performed a Mario Andretti and swerved this way and that, trying to miss them. A pig can do a lot of damage to a little car. I know, Iíve hit them before.

As I drove up the grade, doing well over 60 mph, a vision began to come to me. The trees were leaning in, making the road look as if I were driving through a cave. At this point a strange feeling began to overcome me. Itís hard to explain seeing a vision if youíve never had one. The trees were changing. They were changing into a human form.

I knew the man who was starting to take shape in the headlights was not real. For one thing, he was huge, almost 30 feet tall and for another thing, he was moving with me, the way the full moon will follow you while you are driving. But the biggest tip off was that he was translucent. I knew he was wearing a long white robe, but I could see the trees through it, through him.

You would think this vision would be frightening, but it wasnít. I didn't feel threatened by him. My foot began to lighten up on the excellerater. The car responded by slowing down.

As I drove past the Bear Valley Fire Station, at the top of the grade, I was still thinking of the giant man in the long white robe I had left behind on the grade. He was reaching out, as if to slow me down with his arms. Unconsciously I was doing just that, slowing down. I drove past the Melendy Ranch and past Jeff Schmidtís Ranch, past Rose and Ernie Prewittís and past the entrance to the Pinnacles National Monument, all the while slowing and thinking about this vision I had seen

Pretty soon I was past John Smithís and going into some more sharp turns. As I came around one corner my whole life changed. A station wagon had missed the turn. It had spun around and was now perpendicular to the road, head into an embankment. The station wagon was almost as long as the road was wide and was blocking my lane and most of the oncoming traffic lane. There was about four feet of space, at the back of the wagon, and in this space was a man standing there staring at me. He was dressed in a long white robe and had a long grey beard.

He was the man in my vision. We made eye contact, though I donít know how he did it, how he could even see me with my headlights on him. I do know he could see straight into my soul. I could feel it like a beacon shining into me.

A police man walked to him and took him by the arm, then waved me to pass through the small space cleared. He watched me drive past and I looked one Ślast time in the rear view window. He was still watching.

I know in my heart that if I had not had the vision I would have been driving at my regular speed, fast. There is no way I would have made it through the incident without killing the man in the long white robe. When I rounded the corner and saw the station wagon blocking the road, I would have hit him square. I know this fact as well as I know my face in the mirror.

All I can wonder is, did he send himself to me in warning, by way of astro plaining? Or was it something else? Could he have sent a vision from the future to the past? Or did I have a precognitive experience? Was I seeing into the future? Was my essence in the future sending back a message to the me in the past? I may never know.


The following comments are for "Man in the Long White Robe"
by avenalchimes

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