*Vision archive: Jeane Dixon (1b)* -- 20 Nov 1999


From *A Gift of Prophecy* (1965) by Ruth Montgomery.


(continuing in Chapter 19)

    The vision which Jeane considers to be the most significant and
soul-stirring of her life occurred shortly before sunrise on February
5, 1962.  The date itself may have special significance, though Jeane
was unaware of the fact at the time.  For several months beforehand
astrologers and soothsayers had been predicting an earth-shaking
event on that day -- some even forecast the end of the world --
because of a rare conjunction of the planets.  A similar conjunction
which occurred nearly two thousand years ago is believed by some
Biblical scholars to explain the “bright star in the east”. . .
    Three nights before Jeane’s vision she was meditating in her room
when she became aware that the light was dimming.  Glancing up, she
saw the five bulbs in the crystal chandelier go dark, except for a
curious round ball which glowed brilliantly in the center of each.
Strangely frightened, she ran into her husband’s bedroom and told him
of the light failure.  Since their other house lights were working
properly, Mr. Dixon assumed that a fuse for one circuit had blown,
but when he started down the hall to investigate he noticed that
Jeane’s chandelier was again burning brightly.
    The next evening during her meditations the phenomenon recurred.
This time Jeane remained quietly in her room, staring at the time
balls of light in the otherwise darkened bulbs.  In approximately ten
seconds, she says, she heard “a tiny crackling sound.”  The wires in
the clear bulbs then began to glow again, and normal light resumed.
When the performance was repeated exactly as before on the third
evening, Jeane accepted it as an omen that something important was
soon to befall.  She did not know when or where.  The next morning
she overslept, but the sun was not yet up as she walked toward the
bay window of her bedroom, which faces east.
    As she gazed outside she saw, not the bare-limbed trees and city
street below, but a bright blue sky above a barren desert.  Just
above the horizon was the brightest sun that she had ever seen,
glowing like a golden ball.  Splashing from the orb in every
direction were brilliant rays which seemed to be drawing the earth
toward it like a magnet.  Stepping out of the brightness of the sun’s
rays, hand in hand, were a Pharaoh and Queen Nefertiti.  Cradled in
the Queen’s other arm was a baby, his ragged, soiled clothing in
startling contrast to the gorgeously arrayed royal couple.  “The eyes
of this child were all-knowing,” Jeane says softly.  “They were full
of wisdom and knowledge.”
    A little to one side of Queen Nefertiti, Jeane could glimpse a
pyramid.  While she watched entranced, the couple advanced toward her
and thrust forth the baby, as if offering it to the entire world.
Within the ball of the sun, Jeane saw Joseph guiding the tableau like
a puppeteer pulling strings.  Now, rays of light burst forth from the
baby, blending with those of the sun and obliterating the Pharaoh
from her sight.  Off to the left, she observed that Queen Nefertiti
was walking away, “thousands of miles into the past.”  The Queen
paused beside a large brown water jug, and as she stooped and cupped
her hands to drink she was stabbed in the back by a dagger.  Jeane
says that she “distinctly heard her death scream as she vanished.”
    Jeane shifted her gaze back to the baby.  He had by now grown to
manhood, and a small cross which formed above him began to expand
until it “dripped over the earth in all directions.  Simultaneously,
peoples of every race, religion, and color (black, yellow, red, brown
and white), each kneeling and lifting his arms in worshipful
adoration, surrounded him.  They were all as one.”  Unlike previous
visions, which had gradually faded away from Jeane, this one moved
ever nearer until she seemed to be in the very midst of the action,
joining in the adoring worship.  “I felt like a tiny seed ready to
sprout and grow,” she says, “but I was only one of millions of
similar seeds.  I knew within my heart, ‘Here is the beginning of
wisdom.’”  The room was becoming dark again, and though she was still
caught up in the spell of the vision, Jeane glanced automatically at
her bedside clock.  The time was 7:17 A.M.
    What does it mean?  What is the significance of this strange
visitation on a dull February morning in Washington, a third of the
way around the world from Egypt?  Jeane feels that she has been shown
that answer.  A bit haltingly, she explains it this way: “A child,
born somewhere in the Middle East shortly after 7 A.M. (EST) on
February 5, 1962, will revolutionize the world.  Before the close of
the century he will bring together all mankind in one all-embracing
faith.  This will be the foundation of a new Christianity, with every
sect and creed united through this man who will walk among the people
to spread the wisdom of the Almighty Power.
    “This person, though born of humble peasant origin, is a
descendant of Queen Nefertiti and her Pharaoh husband; of this I am
sure.  There was nothing kingly about his coming -- no kings or
shepherds to do homage to this newborn baby -- but he is the answer
to the prayers of a troubled world.  Mankind will begin to feel the
great force of this man in the early 1980’s, and during the
subsequent ten years the world as we know it will be reshaped and
revamped into one without wars or suffering.  His power will grow
greatly until 1999, at which time the peoples of this earth will
probably discover the full meaning of the vision.”


Chapter 20

    . . .

    Jeane Dixon has learned by experience that the early hours before
daybreak provide the clearest channels for psychic meditation.  She
consequently arose at two o’clock on the morning of November 2, 1964,
to meditate on the following day’s election returns.  She was
disturbed that in recent weeks the elephant had disappeared from her
crystal ball; only the donkey remained, tugging and pulling its way
through dark clouds.  Since this had never previously happened in all
the years that she had been forecasting election outcomes, she hoped
to find an explanation for the puzzlement.  The street lights cast a
wan yellow glow through her bedroom windows as she settled herself in
the semidarkness, with the crystal ball in hand.  The donkey was
still there, pushing its nose against the finish line, but where was
the Republican elephant?  So intent was she on the little tableau in
the glittering ball that she was only vaguely aware of an odd
sensation of suspension, until she glanced toward the east and “saw a
magnificent marble pavilion.”
    Jeane describes the vision thus:  Seated on a throne before
fluted marble columns was a gorgeously arrayed Roman emperor who,
with great energy and strength, was hurling bits of food toward
far-off throngs of ragged barbarians.  The hordes gradually inched
closer, seizing on the scattered tidbits, while beauty radiated from
the exquisite pavilion.  Watching intently, Jeane noticed that the
emperor was beginning to cast the food more carelessly, with less
vitality, so that some of it was falling near his feet; and at last
the barbarians swept across the pavilion like a swarm of locusts,
eradicating all traces of the culture and refinement which it
reflected.
    As darkness enveloped the scene, Jeane felt that in a symbolic
way she had not only witnessed the decline and fall of the Roman
Empire, with the subsequent Dark Ages which obliterated the light of
learning, but had also been given a subtle warning that America was
similarly draining itself of needed strength by a careless
disbursement of foreign aid.
    While she sat in reverie a new vision began to form, and Jeane
suddenly found herself in the center of it, talking with a
recognizable friend, who seemed implicitly to trust her, and an
enormous old woman who represented the Voice of Wisdom.  Wildly
victorious music flooded the room through open windows, and Jeane
knew instinctively that an American presidential inauguration was in
progress just outside.  The friend tenderly handed her a baby girl,
saying:  “I would trust her with no one but you.  Please protect her,
for I love her very much.”
    Nodding sagely, the old lady cautioned:  “This is the child of
love.  You must let nothing happen to her.”  Jeane cuddled the infant
in her arms, and as she left the house the door closed noiselessly
behind her.  She glanced in the direction from which the music had
come, but the beautiful inaugural pavilion that had until recently
been crowded with merrymakers was abandoned, and a filthy debris
covered its smooth marble floor.  The baby by now was a toddler, and
Jeane held onto the tiny hand as she led her down a curving marble
staircase.
    She felt strangely drawn toward the pavilion, but since it was
too soiled for the child to walk on, they strolled along beside it,
on emerald-green grass which was as soft as velvet carpeting.  Jeane
seemed to realize that the marble pavilion was America, and she felt
sick at heart that it had become so littered with filth.  Now
sparkling, pure, clear water was flowing across the grass and lapping
gently around her ankles, but she sadly noted that the cleansing
flood was sweeping under instead of over the debris on the pavilion
floor.
    The child happily trudging along beside her abruptly slipped into
an unseen hole.  Bracing herself against the pavilion for support,
Jeane frantically tugged at the arm of the baby who had been so
lovingly entrusted to her care, and as she struggled to lift her she
beseeched the child:  “Help me.  Help me to save you.  You can help
me if you try.”
    The child made no effort to assist but slowly rolled over and
gazed up at her; and though an inch of clear water covered the little
face, Jeane knew that she had never seen such serenity, overwhelming
love, and wisdom in human eyes.  She continued her futile tugging
until the child smiled and said joyously:  “It must be this way,
It’s got to be this way.  Don’t you see that it must be this way?”
    Jeane turned and stared again at the unspeakable litter covering
the pavilion floor, and sensed that she belonged to it; that this was
her America.  Overwhelmed by a feeling of shame, she watched mutely
while smoky gray clouds began to churn the debris about, like
matchboxes caught in the funnel of a tornado.  She lifted her eyes
and noticed that above the murky clouds were even blacker ones,
rolling in angry billows as if sucked by a giant magnet.  As far as
she could see, the horizon was murky and tormented; but near the top
of the black clouds a fire crackled and burned with white-hot
intensity, gradually consuming the repulsive debris.  Above the
unearthly heat a gentle flame began to glow, and she saw with relief
that the healing flame was spreading throughout the universe to
disperse the fierce black clouds
    “This is the aura-flame, this is the aura-flame,” a voice
repeatedly told her, and slowly a blue tranquillity returned to the
tortured sky.  Glancing a little to the right, Jeane then beheld a
beautiful green knoll on which glowed an eternal flame, and as the
vision faded she realized that the knoll bore a marked resemblance to
the Arlington hillside on which the mortal remains of John Fitzgerald
Kennedy rest beside an eternal flame.  In that instant she felt that
she had been shown why President Kennedy’s death was an integral part
of God’s plan; and why her warning of impending assassination was not
meant to reach him, or to deter him from completing his preordained
mission in life.
    Jeane interprets this vision as an advance warning that Americans
must pay dearly for “the confusion, degradation, and immorality in
our political, business, labor, and family lives”; for our obsession
with material things and our compromises with high principle.  Like
the Romans who squandered their great cultural and political
leadership with bread and circuses, she feels that we also are
building up a loathsome debris that must be consumed by cleansing
fires before peace can return to a troubled world.  Jeane says of
this:
    “I saw the debris of our national life littering America, but
surrounding it was a sea of pure green grass which became inundated
with sparkling clear water that still left the debris unswept.  This
was the present time, and as the gray clouds began to churn I knew
that they represented the struggle between the races -- a struggle
that will dominate the decades of the 1960s and 1970s.  After that
came the even blacker clouds, representing a horrible war in which
many Asian and African nations whom we have helped with foreign aid
will join with Red China to close in on us and, like the barbarians
in the vision of ancient Rome, try to destroy our way of life.  This
will occur during the 1980s, and because of a new kind of germ
warfare, many will die like ants.
    “Then comes the aura-flame, like a vision of hope, to dispel the
war clouds, and after that the eternal flame.  This is the true
meaning of President Kennedy’s life and death:  That through his
martyrdom he would light an eternal flame to remind peoples of the
world of God’s eternal flame in each of us.  During John Kennedy’s
brief period in the public spotlight, he was able to kindle in the
hearts of men an awareness that there is more to life than the narrow
pursuit of personal gain.  Because his life on this earth was cut
short in its prime, it was possible for him to become an eternal
symbol of youth, vitality, culture, and intellect.  This was not of
his doing but of God’s.  Like the courteous Washington policeman on
the street corner, who radiates good vibrations to al passersby, and
like each of us who tries to develop the talents that were entrusted
to us, President Kennedy was simply an instrument of God’s will.
Through him God has demonstrated that within each of us burns this
eternal flame; that our greatness lies not in the size of our bank
accounts but in our faith and our development of divinely granted
talents.
    “We must realize our own talents and, having realized, accept
them; and play on them like a symphony in which all other instruments
are harmonized to make a better universe.  I was wrong in trying to
prevent the President’s death, for nine years previously I had been
shown that it was foreordained.  The little toddler whom I tried to
rescue in the vision taught me this great truth once again: that the
will of humanity cannot change the will of God.
    “How fortunate was John F. Kennedy to be chosen by our Lord for
such a role!  Like the little child who said, ‘It must be this way,’
he would not have wished his life or death to have been otherwise.
This I know because of another vision which appeared before me on
November 25, 1963, while I was watching his funeral on television.
The President’s casket was being carried out of St. Matthew’s
Cathedral -- the same church in which I first saw the vision of his
assassination in 1952 -- and as it was solemnly lifted into place on
the caisson, I suddenly saw John Fitzgerald Kennedy dancing an Irish
jig on top of it.  He was happy and gay and free!  The funeral
procession moved slowly down the avenue, with the President
continuing his merry twirling until it reached Memorial Bridge.  At
that juncture I saw Uncle Sam raise both his hands, as if pronouncing
a benediction, and when I glanced back at the caisson only a fleecy
trail of smoke remained where the President had danced.”
    On the green hillside directly opposite Memorial Bridge, an
eternal flame now lights the grave of America’s thirty-fifth
President.  Jeane Dixon believes that this symbolic torch can serve
as an inspiration for those living during the holocaust which she
foresees for the 1980s.  After this period, she forecasts that Rome
will once again become the world’s foremost center of culture,
learning, and religion; and that the Middle Eastern child whose birth
she “witnessed in the vision with Queen Nefertiti” on February 5,
1962, will unite all warring creeds and sects into one all-embracing
faith.
    Mankind, Jeane Dixon has said, will begin to feel the great force
of this man about 1980, and his power “will grow mightily” until
1999, when there will be “peace on earth to all men of good will.”


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