![]() One way in, one way out that’s what sold Pense and his wife on the 21-acre hilltop property in Strafford some 25 years ago. If the grid goes down the way he thinks it will, you’d need a tank to ascend the eroding gravel path because the 83-year-old Army veteran knows exactly which oak tree he’d fell across the route, lest the marauders come for his cache of, among many other things, 44 raised-bed gardens of food. T he bald snow tires on my ’06 Accord struggled to achieve the grip needed to summit Len Pense’s long, steep driveway. ![]() So I picked up my shotgun and went to look for my dog, and I found five men, and they were already skinning him to eat.” So I’m seeing all this stuff happening, and then I look around, and my dog’s gone. And I also have a police riot gun, a 12-gauge, that holds eight magnum shells. He was a dog, and he was with me in this. Buddy was half-Rottweiler, half-German shepherd. And I had a big dog-my dog died of bone cancer of all things two years ago. And they had established, I think, about 1,000 trees in the forest out in Mark Twain to hang people from if they catch them stealing or whatever. “Next thing I see is, they hanged the colored boy, ’cause they caught him stealing. And the white boy is talking, and he says if you steal wood from any of those people, only take one piece, because if you take more than that they’ll miss it. And I saw a colored boy and a white boy, youngsters, and they were talking. Those people were then forming little camps-15, 20 people per camp. "I had a dream not long ago that was sort of like God said, ‘I will show you these things,’ and that we’d lost both grids on the East and West Coasts, and I saw trains coming in, packed, standing-room only, from both coasts, and they were just releasing them into Mark Twain and everywhere.
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