I am in Ivy Park, a place where I spent much of my childhood, I am near the tennis courts, Mike W., the RTO in Vietnam, is with me. Above the tall trees a commercial plane veers low and loud; the left wing hits the top of tree branches and ignites; the plane spins and tumbles in the air, then crashes. I am directly in its path and move away just in time to avoid being killed by large pieces of bouncing wreckage. A capsule like pod nearly crushes me, but I manage to avoid it. The capsule is on fire and the pilots inside are trapped. The escape hatches are fiery hot but from within or with my help they are opened. I yell to the pilots, "Reach in and drag them out." We are all afraid the fuel tanks will explode, Then we are safe. It seems two pilots survive and one is dead. The dream ends here.