(bryanism Repost for Veteran's Day ---> Memorial Day Parade)
Memorial Day Parade
I had been interacting with a psychotherapist, Dan, who was also a shaman in the lower Michigan area, first mentoring a woman of his congregation in animal communication and other forms of telepathy, along with mentoring a young girl who had a severe phobia of older white men except her dad, because of memories from a past life as a black slave girl, even though she's presently caucasian (around the age of twelve) in this life time. 
For what we'd accomplished so far, other members of Dan's group knew about me, and so a gathering was planned for my attendance in a beautiful house built in unspoiled rural Michigan by a couple very knowledgeable of earth and cosmic energies, with windows accessing the moon and sun rays at a slant I'd never seen or felt since. (continued in comments)

The evenings' main event happened in a spacious, comfortable living room where thirty to fourty participants gathered, so that I could do a "Come-Union" group reading, where I'd move from person to person, something like James Van Praagh would do on his very popular TV show, sometimes interlacing individual soul-stories into one narrative that reminded on different levels how they were all connected.
After finishing my third or fourth cold reading, I was drawn to a man in mid-sixties with a concerned look, and so I asked, "What's your name, sir?" and he replied, "Tom."
I continued, "Tom, did you serve in the military?"
He said, "No."
And I went on, "You wanted to, but why not? Tell us the story.."
He readjusted his seat and looked about the room, comforted by friends and loved ones all around, which gave him the courage and self-interest to reveal, "I and a friend both went to volunteer for the war. He was accepted and I wasn't. He went off and never returned."
In admiration for Tom's patriotism, I admitted before the group on his behalf, "And it's bothered you ever since, but here's why it happened that way," and as I went on explaining, I noticed to my left a great procession coming through like a scene from the film Poltergeist with U.S. military soldiers of all kinds from different eras in American History from the Revolution against England to The Great Civil War, including World Wars One and Two, Korean, Vietnam, as well as Desert Storm -- all marching into the room from some other place in historical order taking up space no room could hold, still I saw every face, every uniform, and knew every war for which each stood (in astral vision).
And as I explained what I was seeing, which were military souls and archetypes marching (on this day) in his honor, I affirmed that it was his duty to commemorate their mission in ways no one on earth could, like he does; and by the smile on his face, I knew he understood exactly what I meant.