Instinct, maybe ESP, mixed with caution and common sense warned
me not to blog anything that could be reblogged or commented on during this tense week. If I had told the truth—that Ethan would be rescued and
Dykes would die today—no one would have believed me. What is the truth?
In prayer and meditation during this standoff, I received
the answer like telepathy from Mr. Dykes (Do I believe in telepathy? I’m a
skeptic, but that didn’t prevent it from happening). In spite of authorities
who kept assuring Dykes that it could have happened to anyone, I understood
that he preplanned the kidnapping of a young, defenseless child. When the bus driver, Charles Albert Poland, intervened,
Dykes killed him—something he had also contemplated in advance.
I prayed and called on angels to surround Ethan (Were they
there? We can’t see them, so unless Ethan felt their presence, we may never
know). I puttered around my kitchen yesterday evening, speaking to Mr. Dykes
holed up in the bunker near Midland City, Alabama. I told him I’m a lady in
California, a former southerner, who has driven Highway 231 in a search for
Civil War ancestors. I suspected he could relate to
that massive anti-government conflict. After asking him to let Ethan go, I felt his
resistance. So I told him a secret I had kept for a week. “Mr. Dykes," I said, “If
you don’t let Ethan go by tomorrow afternoon, he will be rescued. When that
happens, your life will be over.”
Do I believe Jimmy Lee Dykes heard me? Maybe, maybe not, but
it couldn’t be a coincidence that he died like I told him.
