Yesterday at 4:41am, I awoke from dream. It was night. I was in a semi-wooded rolling grassy landscape. I was wearing a tan London Fog raincoat with an attached matching belt. I was on a long field phone like old WW2 Army walkie talkies when I heard 2 nearby men mention my name. They said they needed my phone to determine how deep to dig the hole. They had a topographic map of the field. I heard 95 feet. I laughed and replied "are you trying to build a bomb shelter for 25000 church members? That's crazy. The most you can fit is 7000. You'll have to draw lots to see who goes in." The winds suddenly whipped up and clouds rolled in. "A storm's coming. It's already here," I stated gravely. The rain came down hard and pelted my face. I pulled up the collar of the coat around my face and cinched the belt, realizing I had no hat as my hair got soaked. I ran away from the storm and entered a paved area with various one-story tan structures, like a local town government. People were standing frozen in mid stride on the still-wet black pavement, looking up to the night sky as echoing loudspeakers said New York had just "been hit". People were muttering speculation whether we would also be on the list to get hit. Then I woke up with an urgent need to write this all down.