My dream was set at the Robert F. Kennedy assassination, in that same room. Barack was at the podium. He finished speaking and stepped down from the podium and began his exit, everything as it had been at the RFK assassination – at least as I have seen it portrayed in films. As Barack walked through the narrow path which security had made through the crowd, a man lunged forward and shot and killed him. The moment I woke up, I felt overwhelmed by futility and profound frustration. I felt terrible for the people whose hopes had been shattered, with no recourse.
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