The core story of this sequel to 4900 Nights is the attempted murder of the author. Van Meter is shot five times and nearly dies. This true-life narrative begins with the horrific, violent encounter which leads to the assassination attempt, then progresses to the subsequent investigation and corruption by police and public officials. The forward is written by retired FBI director Ted Gunderson who investigated aspects of the case and the ensuing cover-up.

The Dreaming Time

Anatomy of a Cover-UpBy Homer Van Meter

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2011 Homer Van Meter
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4620-0229-0

Chapter One

As improbable as it may seem, it all began in a dream. I was lying, wounded and dying, in a barren, leafless woods with snarling wolves circling and closing in on me. The desperate, helpless, inevitability of fate was closing in on me with all the awful horror the nightmare could muster, when very suddenly I was shocked to near consciousness. I rolled over and the dream slowly morphed into something else, totally unrelated ... or so I thought at the time.

When I was a young man, I had a dog – a tall, lean, mostly white, Saint Bernard named Josephine. Josey was as sweet, gentle, amiable a creature as ever lived, unless given extreme provocation. The worst accident I ever had in the course of working at my logging business occurred one June day in 1979 when I was a mere 25 years old. A large aspen tree fell on me and pinned both of my legs beneath it. The circumstances were such that I would have surely died there and then had Josey not dug me out and dragged me to safety. It was widely attested to, jokingly by some, quite seriously by others, that the dog was my guardian angel. Personally, for several years I never formed any firm opinion about any supernatural, or godly influence connected to my dog. But I knew first and foremost that everything I was from that day forward, I owed to her.

One of the most serious adherents to the belief of the dog's angelic attributes was a pious old man named Reuben Hendrickson. I well remember one day when I was in the shop where he worked, getting some work done on my log hauling truck. Lunch time came as I was waiting for the repairs to be completed and I pulled out a candy bar, which I shared with Josey.

"We've got to treat that dog better than that," 'ol Reuben said, coming out from behind the parts counter with half of his sandwich. He fed her the sandwich while giving her some affectionate pets and continued. "I hope you know boy, that the Lord sent us a very special gift in this dog. She's not entirely of this world. You can see it in her eyes. It ain't no accident she ended up with you either. You've been sent to do the Lord's work and this dog is gonna keep you alive 'til you get it done."

I remember I smiled and nodded at Reuben's comments at the time. I only knew that the dog and I dearly loved each other. I am not now, nor have I ever been a Christian or adherent to any other organized religion. However, I would eventually come to know one thing with absolute certainty: That old man was exactly right about that dog.

Josey was my constant companion for ten years before she was taken by decrepit old age. But death would not be the end of the benevolent influence she would have upon me. If anything, her capabilities as my guardian were actually stronger.

Several months after she had died, my wife saw Josey's ghost one night. It was a fine summer late night when Darlene went outside with a puppy we had acquired to let him pee before she retired. She was pleasantly shocked to see the glowing form of the old dog lying under the cherry tree in the front yard. While Darlene watched, Josey got up, stepped over to the four-month-old Akita pup, and sniffed him. She was not the sickly, decrepit figure which had died months before, but a fine, young, healthy, bigger-than-life creature, virtually exuding benevolent warmth. Darlene reported that as the ghost and the pup sniffed each other approvingly, Josey disappeared. The pup seemed very pleased by the encounter. As for my wife, she said she felt a peaceful euphoria such as she had never known.

The old dog would never be seen in that form again. When Darlene told me of the experience, the next day, I remember feeling two very distinct emotions. I was naturally very pleased that the spirit of my old guardian angel remained, but I cursed my luck at not being the one who had seen her.

Nearly four more years would pass before I would once again know the presence of my old friend. One April night, in the year 1993, she came to me in a dream. I remember the experience well.

It was as though she was actually there, all 140 pounds of her lying beside me in the bed, licking me in the face. When she stirred me awake, I looked up into her big, brown eyes and was so overcome with emotion that I began to cry. I threw my arms around her and hugged her. She lay her head on my shoulder and we knew the warm comfort of our perennial embrace. Nothing, not even death, could part us. Then, all too soon, she turned away. The two dogs my wife and I had then had entered the room. The big male Akita, Chester, a.k.a. The Little Guy, and his mate, Oreo, stood dumbfounded, entranced by what they saw. As old Josey looked at the two young Akitas, they all became little puppies and rolled around, happily playing with each other. Watching them play, I was given entirely to a completely all-encompassing euphoria – a knowledge that there existed, somewhere, a state of total goodness and tranquility.

Then old Josey disappeared, gone back to the great beyond, having come in this brief interlude to reassure me and to deliver a message. I awoke, for real this time, to see Chester and Oreo sitting shoulder to shoulder at the side of the bed looking straight at me. It was something very uncharacteristic for them to be doing in the middle of the night. As absolutely bizarre as it may sound, I am firmly convinced that something of great importance was passed from the old, deceased dog to those two living, breathing, young dogs.

Additionally, I awoke with a very clear impression of a message. She said, "You must keep your plan to go to Alaska. There will be danger for you there, but also great discovery. I will warn you of the danger when it approaches."

It really wasn't an unusual message, since I had been planning a trip to Alaska for over a year. But lately, I had been waffling. I had been thinking that I really couldn't afford the trip, so maybe I should not go. However, with the old dog's urging, I went. What transpired was nothing less than the greatest discovery of my life. In an episode which I relate in detail in my book, 4900 Nights, I met a man, an old friend whom I had first known hundreds of years before, in a previous life. All I will say about him is that he is of American Indian heritage, I gave my solemn word to never reveal him, and when, on rare occasion, that I refer to him I call him simply 'A'. You might say 'A' for Anonymous.

As for the dangers, there were two incidents which were very real. One night, while sleeping in the cab of my pickup truck, parked just off the dirt road called the Dalton Highway, I had a nightmarish vision in a dream. I was clawing my way though an alder thicket when I was suddenly pounced on by a huge grizzly. It happened so fast and completely without warning that I had no time to react. As the bear was mauling me to death, I shuddered awake. I knew it was no ordinary dream. It was a warning of impending danger.

The next morning, Chester and I took off on foot to do some moose hunting. We were slowly working our way along the banks of a stream when we came to a wide expanse of alders. The Little Guy stopped, sat down and stared into the tangled thicket. He clearly sensed something. I stood beside him, rifle in hand, and surveyed the scene. The alders were higher than my head and so thick that it would be impossible to see anything more than a few feet away. I'd had enough experience with...