DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE

 

 

The past beats inside me like a second heart.

 ---Max Morden in John Bamville's book, The Sea.

 

 

 

DREAM: The Elegant Woman At The Top Of The Stairs (July 20, 1989. Two months before my memory returned)

I am in Washington DC where I walk up the stairs of a courthouse and move around a fountain before approaching a woman standing at the top. I say hello to her. I am accompanied by three tall handsome men who are guarding me. The woman is poised and slim and looks to be in full command of herself. She has on a uniform that comes in at the waist like a very tailored suit and there are insignias on her shoulder and on her left breast pocket. The weather is balmy and there is a slight breeze.

 

This dream came to me before my memory returned and was during the time I was serving on a jury in San Francisco. I believe this dream is a memory recording three FBI men escorting me into the Department of Justice Building. I found a picture of the building, shown below, that corresponds to my dream.The woman may be a court official who is there to chaperone us into the building. I looked on the internet at pictures of uniforms worn by officers of the court in 1948. My dream description agrees. 

 

Other dreams report my attendance at a porn movie in a similar building, a secret meeting in a warehouse, and my uncle and I walking around in a huge marble building trying to find where we were to go.These all took place in Washington DC and the dreams are in my book. .

 

THE DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE BUILDING IN 1948. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

According to FBI agent William F. Roemer, Jr., the FBI was located in the Justice Department Building at Ninth and Pennsylvania NW in Washington D.C., where it was headquartered from 1908 until 1975. Notice the stairs and fountain shown in the picture. 

 

DAY THREE, VOLUNTEERING AT A SOCIAL SERVICE RECEIVING HOME FOR ABUSED CHILDREN.   February 29, 1992 - 1:20 to 5:00 PM

I checked in at 1:20 PM and went directly to the cafeteria where teenagers were tie-dyeing t-shirts. Dawn seemed glad to see me and asked if I wanted to dye a shirt for her baby. We wrapped rubber bands around parts of the shirt and then sprayed them with pink and blue dye. Pretty designs resulted. One of the girls wrote on the back of her shirt, “Don’t touch this,” and put an arrow pointing downward. Dawn wrote, “Drug Free Baby,” on two of her shirts. When we finished, and because I had promised her,  I gave Dawn, James Herriot's book,” Dog Stories.,”  She was pleased.

I then went to the yard where children were playing. Several employees watched so I sat and joined them. There was a family of four children. The youngest was playing alone in the sand box and they told me he did not want to be disturbed. Jill and another teenager roller skated and then went off to play volley ball with staff. A young male employee came and took all the boys to a cement area where they could play kick ball. Two other staff members started to talk about 101s. When I asked what a 101 was, they explained it designated a child that must have one on one supervision. One of the boys was such a child. He had just been released from the hospital. He was very “macho” acting, and his body language was aggressive, as if he was informing everyone that he was tough and you better not mess with him.

At one point I was asked to get drinks for everyone. I went to the main kitchen and came back with orange and cranberry juices.

Later as I was watching a four-year-old boy, he walked over to me. I asked if he needed to go to the bathroom and he said yes. I took him and let him go in alone thinking I was not allowed to accompany him. When he finished I opened the door and helped him wash his hands when I noticed he smelled. I reported this to one of the staff who check and found he had had a BM in his pants. We went to the infant room and the staff member put on thick rubber gloves. I looked for clean clothes for him. He began crying and seemed quite humiliated and embarrassed to be seen nude in front of us and was ashamed at having messed his pants. After he was cleaned up, I patted him on his back and told him it was okay. He calmed down and quit crying. We then took him to the nurse because he was scratching his skin. She put medicine on him and he began to feel better. I then took him outside and gave him a cookie. He sat close to me and started talking. He mentioned the movie, Home Alone, and how funny it was. I felt he liked and felt safe with me.

Soon everyone decided to go inside and watch the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, movie, while  German sausage with potato and vegetables were served from hot trays. Seating was informal.

A deaf boy was giving one of the female workers a hard time. She seemed quite put out and was not very nice to him. When he received his food he threw it into the garbage. She refused to give him anymore. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. It was the way she spoke to him and the angry look on her face that  bothered me. 

I took over one of the infants. The tag on his leg said he was seven and one half months old, but he looked like he was about three months. He ate hungrily. I rubbed his feet while he ate and he seemed quite content by the time he finished.

It was time for me to head home. It was an emotionally rewarding day.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t continue volunteering. I had begun graduate school.

 

Point Reyes, California

Onward and upward.