My sister Anne went to daytona for bike week. A couple of days after she left, it was about 10:00 pm, I was watching tv when the dishes in the dish rack started to rattle.

I went out, I thought maybe Anthony had gotten up and was trying to get a drink or something. But when I got up they stopped, for some reason I thought of my sister. I checked on Anthony and he was sound alseep so it wasn't him.

A few minutes later Anthony's father came in, he just got sitting down and the dishes rattled again. This time he got up and checked, as he was doing this I told him about what happened earlier.

Just then my son Anthony woke up screaming 'auntie Anne', it took me about half an hour to calm him down. I lit a candle and said a prayer. The next morning my sister called me. She had had a bike accident at exactly the same time Anthony woke up yelling. What I heard before I think was, what my grandmother called a forunner. After this incident was when we moved to the farm.