Russian Overtakers

Dream given to Pattie Trovato of Baltimore, MD in late May of 2004

I've never had an end-times dream before. This poured understanding into me of how easily our country will be taken over, and how foreign military will oversee our country.

In my dream there had been a nuclear explosion in the Baltimore-Washington corridor. I had quickly grabbed clothes, a tent, money and a little food, and stuffed them in our car. We had used the backroads to get out of Maryland. My daughter was in a car behind me with the rest of our kids. My husband was going to meet us at the campground. I was driving down a familiar highway in Pennsylvania. We were going to a camp site near Penn State College. The highway was jam-packed in both directions, traffic had come to a total stop due to some small accidents. I got out of our car and climbed up past the boulders into the trees to sit in the cool shade. It was nice spring weather. The highway was filled with people in panic trying to get to the mountains, while other people in a panic were leaving the mountains to travel down south-east. Everyone was in a panic! Four black helicopters came from over the mountain range. They started buzzing up and down the road. Two left to go south. One kept circling the area I was in, while the fourth got out a bull-horn. They announced to all of us that martial law had taken effect and that we were traveling illegally. Everyone was required to return to their homes or face arrest and confiscation of their vehicles. We thought how can we go back home? The lanes of traffic on the highway are not moving? A man in a south-bound pick-up truck started screaming at the black helicopter. He incited others to throw rocks at it, and even wanted people to turn over vehicles and block the highway to stop people from going home. A military person dressed in black with dark grey appeared at the helicopters' door and shot the man and two others to death. Other people in the area were forced to lay the bodies along side the highway, and move their vehicles onto the shoulder of the highway. This paralyzed the people.

No one really understood how different things were going to be. The circling helicopter swooped down, and a young military man jumped down to the road, on the north-bound side. He was quite friendly, and gave new orders saying tourists should procede to their destination. We were told we could only visit ten days or less then we were required to return to our primary residence. He told us we would want to go home anyway, because as we would not be able to buy food anywhere except pre-packaged food still available in gas stations. All grocery markets were closed. The only people that were to report to work were emergency workers. The gas stations were to allowed to remain open to allow people to get home, then no one was to leave.

Then the scene changed. I was back home, which is a twenty minute drive from Baltimore. My family and I were watching a TV news conference on how people were coping with grocery stores being closed for the last three weeks. A military woman, dressed in the same outfit as the men in the helicopters, came to our front door. She made sure we were home, then put something sticky on our door on which to later affix government papers. They didn't want these papers put in a mailbox. She handed us a large envelope of papers. The contents included a mandatory appointment at the school where we are registered to vote. If you missed the appointment, you delayed getting food for your family. Most people had eaten all extra food. All people were required to share what they had. Food was the primary problem everyone had on their minds. The government did not want anyone to have any food left in their house. Any person not sharing food they had stored up would have it all taken away, and go to jail. When I arrived at our place of voting, only a few people were allowed in at a time. Tables were set up as when we vote. We had to go to an alphabetized table and state our name. We had to provide proof of who we were and how many people lived in our home. They confirmed this information with a computer. Anyone not registered would have to go to a sports stadium to do their paperwork in order to get food. No more Wal-Mart food.

Each family was issued something that looked like WIC checks. Each family was assigned one grocery store in which they could shop. The Checks had food items listed, and how many we could buy. For example: 2 - 16 oz. cans of vegetables, 1 lb. Meat, 6 fruit items (fresh), etc. We could only buy at our assigned store. Everyone could only shop if you were the registered shopper and only one person per family could be registered to shop. Each person had one certain day in which to shop. I was at my assigned store. There were only a few people allowed in at a time. Once the approved people were in the doors were locked until the maximum time was over and the next group was allowed in. I only had 15 minutes to shop for the listed items on my check order, and only 5 minutes for a clerk to process everything. Each hour only 3 groups of people were allowed to enter. To ensure appropriate behavior, there were military dressed guards with machine guns at various places in the store. Some people were assigned to shop in the middle of the night. We could choose whatever brand of canned goods, or meats, but the amount was very limited. My grocery cart was only one-third full, and it had to last us all week until the next weekly appointment, when we were given another WIC type check with a limited amount of food listed to be purchased. Each persons' check was commensurate with number of people living at their legal residence. One could buy all the paper goods and cleaners they liked.


As I was paying for the allowed food, another customer became very irate with the little amount of food he was being allowed to get. He started yelling at one of the soldiers. The soldier slowly pointed his gun at him, pushed back his helmet and stared at him a long time. This soldier speaking in a Spanish accent said, “Don't be so upset. This will not do you any good.” He pointed at a military vehicle out in the parking lot. “Look. Your Russian overtakers have had to live like this all of their lives. Now, . . . it is your turn.” The dream ended.

Toward the end of the dream I knew the nuclear attack, was not a single attack, but actually many “small” attacks, and was accomplished thru a Russian and Spanish speaking country alliance. I woke with a very clear knowing of how easily people will co-operate with a new government in order to get a little food. I saw how voting registration will be used to organize food distribution.

I saw the entire dream again, shockingly crystal clear, just as was given the first time.


http://www.americaslastdays.com/overtakers.htm