I'm with a group of people in a large building (house? - not where we live, though), and there's been a major altercation between this one man and another. It's over a misunderstanding but the one guy is distraught and won't listen to anybody, he wants to kill the other guy, and he's tough enough to do it. (He's not especially large, but strong, big shoulders, Italian-looking, sleeves rolled up, sort of Springsteen-Fonzie-like.) All these people are friends, and we want to prevent this, but the first guy goes off to get something [I presume he announces he's going for the sledgehammer which is in another place in the building - in any case, we know that's what he's doing], and I say to the others, "Oh no - if he's going for the hammer, the only one back there is the big one" - meaning there's regular ones, and a huge iron one that won't break, and is far more dangerous than the other kind. We're all frightened, and I wonder if I should go after the guy, but I don't think I could change his mind, and he might hurt me. We're all anxious to keep the other guy protected, but don't quite know how to do that. It's not like we're used to violence. We move to another room, but the first guy catches up with us, and there's a confrontation. Several tense moments pass, and then the violent guy breaks down - he can't do it, drops the hammer and his head, and cries. I feel so sorry for him - and then I feel guilty because I should've gone after him, even if I couldn't stop him, I should have stood with him, let him know he wasn't alone, that I cared that he was hurting. I really feel sad. Later, feeling I need to get out somewhere, I'm taking a thing back to someone who'd left it - it's somewhere between a metal folding chair and a child's wagon - and I'm going along a neighborhood path. It's night, though there are lights somewhere, I can see fine. This path goes along a creek or something, and there's trees and large bushes, which in one place get so thick I can't go on the path any more. I look around, thinking I could go behind this house and then between it and the next one, but it's late, people are probably in bed, they probably wouldn't like hearing a disturbance right by their houses. I decide to get back to the path by cutting through a more open place in the foliage, cutting off the bend. (At some point it is discovered that Whoopi Goldberg's name and address are on this article - I had previously found a different name on the front, and I was taking it to her, but someone pointed out the other name - I have to choose, so I figure I'll carry on as I am, and will find out later if it should go to Whoopi.)