Brother Branham was in this J. C. Penney's store when he saw the women come up the escalator as it showed in the vision he had of hell when he was younger. This store has been torn down and the city library and park is now located in that area.
[Compiled from Souls That Are In Prison Now, November 10, 1963 a.m., Jeffersonville, Indiana,
and Things That Are To Be, December 5, 1965, Rialto, California]
When Brother Branham was about fourteen-years-old, the back of both of his thighs were accidentally shot off with a shotgun by one of his hunting friends, Jimmy Poole.
I'd always knowed there was God. I remember the first prayer I ever tried to pray. I was shot, laying there dying in the field; and the only plea that I could have to God, I said, "You know, Lord, I never did commit adultery." That's all the merit that I could offer Him.
At the hospital, they cut off the flesh that had been blown apart, and Brother Branham was not expected to live. As he lay in the hospital, he saw a vision of hell, which he later saw it repeat in about October 1963 in the J. C. Penney's in Tucson, Arizona...
First, I was going through like clouds, then through darkness, sinking on down, down, down. The first thing you know, I got into the regions of the lost. I could never stop falling- for eternity looked like, I was going to fall. I hollered for papa. "Oh, papa, help me!" There was no papa there. "Mama, help me!" There was no mama there. "God help me!" There was no God there. It was just an endless, horrible, oh, nightmare. Burning, blazing hell would be a pleasure to be in there beside of that. After awhile I heard the most mournful sound that I ever heard; and it was the awfullest feeling. Sounded like some kind of a haunted affair. And when it was, I looked coming, and it was women, and they had green stuff, you could just see their face, and they had green stuff under their eyes, and their eyes looked like, run back like the women today paint their eyes. Run back like that and just their eyes and face, and they were going, "UH, UH, UH, UH." I said, "Am I to be there forever?"
Oh, my. I just screamed out, "Oh, God, have mercy upon me. Have mercy, oh God. Where are You? If You'll only let me go back and live, I promise You to be a good boy." Now, that's the only thing I could say, God knows. And at the day of judgment, He will judge me for that statement. I said, "O God, if You'll let me out of here, I'll never be ashamed of You again. God, please give me a chance." And the first thing you know, I felt myself coming back up. And the doctor was alarmed, because my heart was only beating seventeen times to the minute. I done bled all my blood out and everything.
I was laying in my own blood. And I've wondered someday that would happen. When I moved to Tucson, I was with my wife down at J. C. Penney's [October 1963]. And I was setting there like that, and with my head down, waiting, 'cause you know how ladies, they shop a long time. I really turned sick at my stomach seeing those women come up there; young, old, and indifferent, wrinkled, young, and every way, with little bitty shorts on, their filthy body, and those sexy-dressed women with those great big heads [waterhead haircuts] like that. And here they come, and one coming out of that escalator was just coming right up like that where I was setting back in a chair, setting there with my head down, and I turned and looked. One of them coming up the steps was saying (Spanish speaking) to another woman; she was a white woman speaking to the Spanish woman. And when I looked, all at once I was changed. There I'd seen that before.
You know how the women are doing now, painting their eyes, just recently like a cat, you know put it up like this, and wearing cat glasses and everything, you know, with eyes up like this, and that green stuff under their eyes. There was that thing that I seen when I was a child. There was the woman just exactly. And I just got numb all over, and I begin to look around, and there was those people mumbling, going on about the prices and things in the building. I thought, "That's what I saw in hell." There they was, that canker. I thought because they were in hell what made them that way, a greenish blue under their eyes. And here was these women painted with greenish-blue just the way that vision said about forty years ago. And that's the number anyhow of the judgment. You see?
Brother, sister, let me tell you something, it may seem funny now, but you once get there. It's a serious thing. Don't you never go that way.
The J. C. Penney's building has been torn down and the city library and park is now located in that area.