Quantum Weirdness Of Human Beings

Ordinarily, this should be in blockquote, but I find it makes lengthy items too difficult to read.

So, quote on …

Harold Stephan:

Speaking of Phil [Spector], he told one of the coolest stories ever relayed to me in my career, which is worth sharing. It was about the time he and John Lennon were working on “Imagine”. It was prompted by a conversation we were having, ironically, about Phil’s losing faith in humanity. Since I’m the perennial optimist, we had different points of view. So did he and John. John believed in human potential.

As the story goes John and Phil were working on “Imagine” and John was telling Phil about his belief that it was possible for human beings to communicate mentally without words. Phil was skeptical. That night Phil awoke out of a dream where he dreamt John was telling him that he wanted to change some of the instrumentation on “Imagine”. A few seconds later (in real life) Phil’s phone rang and it was John, who curtly said, “Now do you believe me, you asshole?” and then hung up.

… quote off.

Now if that hasn’t spooked you, here are a bunch of anecdotes related to the author of Among the Heroes: United Flight 93 and the Passengers and Crew Who Fought Back, Jere Longman:

Quote on …

Jeremy Glick
He [Jeremy Glick] had been scheduled to fly out the day before, but he had called [his wife Lyz] to say there was a fire at Newark Airport and his flight had been canceled. The next available flight would not put him in San Francisco until the middle of the night. He decided to go home to Hewitt, New Jersey, and try again this morning. Lyz Glick felt secretly pleased. The previous weekend, when Jeremy mentioned his travel plans, a wave of fear overcame her. They were standing in the kitchen, and when Jeremy told her of his Monday flight, she became anxious. She didn’t worry when he flew, but she had a bad feeling about this one. She felt almost sick. A college roommate had died in the crash of a small family plane. Quickly, Lyz tried to put the thought out of her head. Don’t be so silly, she told herself. These things don’t happen. Lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same place. She did not tell Jeremy of her feelings, and when his plans changed, she felt relieved. — page 20

Mark Bingham & Matt Hall
Flying made Mark [Bingham] nervously said Paul Holm, his former partner. He would grow tense. Mark liked being in control and, in the air, he felt he lacked authority. This apprehension, however, did not keep him from flying frequently between the coasts. As Hall drove away from the airport, his cell phone rang. It was Mark. “Thanks for driving,” he said. “I made the plane. I’m in first class, drinking a glass of, orange juice.”

A curious vision popped into Hall’s head. Mark was sitting in his first-class seat, smiling at him, the sun coming through the window over his shoulder. Clear as a bell Matt could see him, as if he, too, were across the aisle in first class. How odd. What did it mean? Is this the last time I’m going to see him? The thought appeared and evaporated in an instant. “Give me a call when you get there,” Hall said. — page 29

Hilda Marcin
She [Hilda Marcin] was getting older, and the winters were not easy on her arthritis, so Hilda decided to move to California to be with her other daughter, Carole, when she retired from her school job. She usually visited Carole in the summers, traveling west in July. This time Hilda had stayed in New Jersey until after Labor Day, caring for family pets while her daughter Elizabeth and her granddaughter attended a wedding. Carole had not been able to travel to New Jersey for her mother’s retirement party, and she spent the summer with an odd, displaced feeling. Am I going to see her again? On September 11, Carole woke up with excited anticipation. She had not seen her mother in more than a year. As usual, Hilda had been frugal in her ways, promising Carole that she would walk around with a flashlight at her daughter’s home so as not to use too much electricity. The weather would be nice in California, Hilda could putter around in the yard. Her eightieth birthday was approaching in December, and there would be a nice party. She always asked that no one throw her a party, then loved it when they did. Before she flew to her new life outside of San Francisco, she packed four suitcases and all of her jewelry, and made copies of her personal papers for her daughters. She even wrote her own obituary so the newspapers would get it right. — page 51

Nicole Miller & Ryan Brown
Ryan Brown did not remember the captain [of his flight] saying anything about the World Trade Center, only that there had been a tragedy and two hijackings, and that the plane had been ordered to land immediately. Nicole, he thought. Is she all right? He began to get a sick feeling. He turned to his mother Muriel Brown, who was seated behind him, and said, “Mom, it’s Nicole. Nicole’s gone.” — page 59

Colleen Fraser
When she [Colleen Fraser] flew for the first time, on a trip to Disney World years earlier, her sister[Christine] rehearsed the boarding process with her, coaching Colleen to take deep breaths to overcome her fear of flying. Colleen breathed deeply on this morning, too, and she seemed fine. She got out of the car, sat on her motorized scooter [she was disabled] and began to check in for Flight 93. She would be in Row 19, she told her sister, who had noticed an eerie calm at the airport. Later, as Christine Fraser sat in her car at a park in Elizabeth, [New Jersey,] she heard on the radio that a plane had hit the World Trade Center. In the pit of her stomach, she knew her sister was going to die. — page 63

At her apartment in nearby San Jose, California, Candyce Hoglan had a troubling dream. She was Alice Hoglan’s sister. Both were United flight attendants. She dreamed of a plane going down. Of people begging for their lives, of passengers screaming, “No, no.” She awoke disturbed. The dream had been so real. A few minutes later, the phone rang. It was her brother Lee Hoglan. Their nephew Mark [Bingham] was on a plane that had been hijacked. — page 141

Lyz [Glick] went downstairs to make breakfast and noticed the nervous looks on her parents’ faces. She wanted to watch television, but each time she walked into a room, her parents turned the TV off. Her father, Richard Makely, had a bad feeling about this. [. . .] — page 143

Waleska Martinez’s mother, Irma, and her brother, Reynaldo, were visiting from Caguas, Puerto Rico, which further deflated her [Waleska Martinez’s] desire to travel. She worked late on September 10, then awakened in the middle of the night, believing she had heard her mother calling to her. Then she returned to her bed, and, according to her partner, Angela Lopez, Waleska said, “You know, something’s wrong. I should never have answered my mother’s call. That’s bad luck.”

“Don’t worry, nothing’s going to happen,” Lopez assured her.

Waleska started trembling. She couldn’t stop.

Change the flight, Lopez suggested. She couldn’t, Waleska said. — pages 165-166

Juan Martinez attended the memorial in honor of his daughter, Waleska, who had been seated in Row 10. He had never told his family the secret he kept for a decade. A master sergeant in the Air National Guard, he dreamed repeatedly of an airplane crashing. Over and over, he saw pieces of plane, parts of people. “I always thought it was going to be me,” he said. On September 9, he walked past a photograph of his daughter at his home in Caguas, Puerto Rico, and unsettling images came into his head. Waleska would die in a plane crash, not himself. So unnerved was the father that he dropped to his knees in the hallway and began praying: “These images can’t be for real. Please, God, don’t let this occur.” Now, as he stood on a bluff above the crash of Flight 93, looking down at burned trees and FBI agents in hazardous-materials suits, everything felt familiar and sickening. These were the same scorched trees and white suits that came into his head two days before the plane crashed. — pages 240-241

… quote off.

Precognition? Clairvoyance?

Is there a formal scientific term for this phenomenon?

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