January 1994
Cork, Dave G, and I rented a cabin in the middle of the woods on someone’s property, who knew nothing of this. It was pouring rain and we had to trudge up the muddy mountains to get to the cabin. As we were doing so, the people who lived in the house were packing a camper, running back and forth to the house. There were about twenty family members. I think the husband was Bill (Paul boss from the farm he used to work at.)
There were a lot of cars driving up to the cabin an sliding and coming to a stop in the steep muddy slopes, headlights slashing crookedly into the night sky.
The next thing I know we were marching in a mob of people down a major highway. Hundreds of people and for some reason I thought it was a school trip. A few groups broke off into the woods to go to the cabin. Dave, me and Jeff Joust from high school and many others broke off.
As we were walking along, Jeff and I heard the sound from the rest of the marching crowd up the highway. He commented that it sounded like an angry mob, but without screaming or shouting like one. I then asked if he meant, as a joke, like a large lynch mob just growling and growling? I then imitated it. He laughed a lot then Dave G ran over. I woke up.
