Life isn’t what you think it is; neither is death!
Summer, 1978
Seven years had passed since my first successful meditation. College seemed like something that took place in another lifetime. The many things I learned through my studies of Zen had taken a back seat to my new ambitions. I was married to my college sweetheart and living in the suburbs of Boston. I was working in the city as a financial planner. I’d been at it for a few years and looked forward to making it a career. I was making great money and had a beautiful home. It seemed like nothing could stop me. Life was as good as it gets, or so I thought.
It was one o’clock in the afternoon. I was driving to an appointment south of Boston I had scheduled a month ago, one I had been excited about for some time. I was meeting the owner of a large baking company. It was my first call on a large business, and I knew this market was where the money was. As I traveled down the Southeast Expressway out of Boston, I found myself imagining how the appointment would go, including gathering the information and filling out the forms. I would return some weeks later to have the contracts signed and the deal closed. That would open the door to more opportunities and, of course, more financial rewards.
The car windows were down, and the cool air that flowed through them on that hot summer day was welcome. My suit jacket was neatly folded on the seat next to me, and my briefcase sat on the floor of the back seat. I was really enjoying my life and loved nothing more than driving my sports car whenever the opportunity presented itself.
I loved the woman I was married to, and I felt like I was on top of the world. Life simply couldn’t get any better. As I saw the city skyline disappear in the rear-view mirror, I noticed a black Camaro speeding toward me from behind. My first instinct was to hit the gas, but I realized the Camaro was going much faster than I was. I looked quickly into the lane next to me. It was clear, so I turned into it. Suddenly, I spotted another car coming up fast in that lane as well. It was almost on top of me. It was racing the Camaro! I spun the wheel hard, returning to the lane I left just seconds earlier. The second car flew past and caught my rear bumper as it did so.
I suddenly found myself spinning counter-clockwise, out of control. I hit the guard rail, and the car flew into the air. It landed upside down, sliding for more than a hundred feet before catching the front wheel on a metal barrier, flipping the car upright, and bringing it to a screeching halt some one hundred and fifty feet from the initial impact point. I don’t remember anything from the time I started spinning. This account was from the police report I read a few days later. It bore the testimony of several eyewitnesses to the accident.
What I do remember clearly is what took place after the car came to a stop. I was floating about seventy-five feet above my car. The vehicle was completely demolished. There was black smoke making its way into the sky. I could tell it was my car by the size and color. The shape, however, was masked in a heap of twisted metal and broken glass. I noticed a man slumped over the steering wheel. As I continued to stare, I began to recognize something familiar about him. The traffic was a distraction, but I couldn’t stop staring at the man harnessed in the seat belt, sitting there and not moving. Suddenly, I found myself in a state of shock as I realized I was looking at myself!
“How could it be?” I asked, pausing to get my bearings. Then it hit me. “I must be dead!”
The next thought that flashed through my consciousness came quickly. I can see and hear; I remember everything. How can this be death? I asked myself.
It was at that point that I realized I had discovered the answer to a question man had been asking himself since the beginning of time: there was no such thing as death! My jubilation at that discovery was quickly displaced by thoughts of my wife and family. I experienced a feeling of sadness when I initially thought about how they would feel when they realized I was gone.
Out of nowhere, a voice from my distant past echoed through my mind: “Don’t worry about how they will feel. When they arrive where you are now, they will come to know the same truth you have discovered.” I looked around, but there was no one there. Immediately I recalled my experience at the lake so many years ago. I knew this was the same voice I heard when I was a child. But where was it coming from, and whose voice was it?
My attention was distracted by the scene playing out below me. Police cars had arrived, and a doctor was now on the scene. Sirens were screaming in the distance, and I watched as a policeman accompanied the doctor to my car. Another policeman was spraying a fire extinguisher on the car where the smoke was pouring from the engine compartment. Two other policemen were trying to force open the door, but it was jammed. The driver’s window was shattered, so the doctor leaned inside and placed his fingers on my neck, checking for signs of life. He removed his stethoscope and placed it on my chest while he listened for a heartbeat. He seemed to linger there for what seemed like an eternity. After several moments he finally stood up, looked toward the policeman, and shook his head from side to side. He reached out and took a blanket from the officer and covered me before making their way to the side of the road.
A second officer was directing traffic around the accident. I could hear everything the doctor and the other policeman were saying.
“Damn shame,” said the policeman. “It looks like the driver was speeding and lost control. Must have been a blowout or something.”
“I haven’t seen anything this bad in a long time,” replied the doctor. “He didn’t have a chance!”
“We’re interviewing a few people who saw it happen, so we should have the facts shortly,” said the policeman.
“But that isn’t what happened,” I protested from my vantage point above them. “That isn’t how it happened at all! It wasn’t my fault!”
I watched as other emergency vehicles made their way to the accident. After several moments I realized I was moving away from the scene that lay below, higher into the sky. I had no idea where I was going, nor did it seem to matter. I was in such a peaceful state, nothing could disturb my euphoria. Earth was disappearing below me, and I was moving toward a place I felt comfortable calling home!
I had a very strong feeling I always knew this is what death would be like for me. I remembered everything about my life, and yet, it seemed to have happened in a matter of seconds, not years. I thought back to my first successful meditation experience, realizing how different time was on this earthly plane. Now it made even more sense to me. My life had actually taken just a few short moments to live, and now time had ended altogether. I thought about everything that was taking place, and I began to understand the bigger picture. It was as if my eyes had been opened to a larger truth, and the experience of being human was simply that—an experience! As I moved toward a destination I knew nothing about, I was surprised to see that it appeared much like the place I went to in my meditations. It had no physical features I could describe, just varying shades of light. It was beginning to make even more sense to me.
I knew I was far from understanding the greater consciousness, but I felt all that was about to change. As I continued on, a bright white light beckoned me toward it. As I moved forward into the light, I was suddenly surprised to find myself sitting in my car once again. I opened my eyes. I was angry. I didn’t want to be there! I slid the blanket off my body, removed the seat belt, and leaned forward. I looked out the broken windshield toward the sky, where I knew I’d been only moments earlier. As my frustration began to rise, a familiar voice made itself heard once again.
“Jerry, you are not done with your walk here. You have much to do before your experience is over. Do not be angry. You will be coming home very soon.”
I immediately felt an overwhelming sense of peace. I sat there for a moment assessing what had happened. For the second time in my life, I was left with words from a voice I did not know, nor did I know where it came from. I tried to open the door but could not. I turned sideways in my seat and pushed the door with my feet. After several moments, it creaked open. I emerged from the car and walked across five lanes of traffic toward the policeman and the doctor, who were still talking. As I moved toward them, their eyes widened.
“But you were dead!” exclaimed the doctor. “I checked you out myself.”
At that point the policeman standing next to him became very uncomfortable because I was staring into his eyes. I stopped a couple of feet in front of him.
“You told the doctor I was speeding, and that’s what caused the accident. But that’s not what happened! I was not speeding, and I did not get a blowout,” I said rather emphatically.
“How did you know that’s what I said?” he asked.
“I was floating right above you and heard everything.” I proceeded to repeat his words exactly, and his face grew pale with disbelief.
“You deal with this, Doc. I need to help my partner.” He looked over his shoulder at me as he walked away. He wasn’t smiling.
The doctor beckoned me to sit on the ground. “How do you feel?”
“I feel fine,” I replied. “I have a slight pain in my neck, but that’s all.”
“We need to get you to the hospital,” he replied.
He waved to the emergency technicians, who rushed over and knelt next to me. They quickly checked my vital signs when the doctor took one of them aside.
“Take him to Quincy City Hospital,” I heard him say. “It’s probably the closest. He was dead when I got here. I checked his vitals, and he was gone! I figure he was dead for at least seven minutes, and quite frankly, I’m surprised he’s back. I mean, the guy doesn’t have a scratch on him, and you can’t even make out what kind of car he was driving! He did complain of a sore neck, so make sure they’re aware of that. Here’s my card. They can reach me if they have any questions. Oh, and you might want to check the officer that was first on the scene, just to make sure he’s okay. There were some strange goings-on after the accident, and he seems to be having a hard time dealing with what took place. To be honest with you, I’m a little stymied by it myself!”
“Will do,” said the tech, as he jumped to his feet to accompany his partner in getting me on a gurney and off to the hospital. I was wheeled into the emergency room area at Quincy City Hospital and left on a gurney in the hallway. “I’ll let the doctors know you’re here,” said the EMT, as he walked toward the nurse’s desk.
I lay quietly with my eyes closed. I looked at the clock above the desk. It was 1:30 p.m. My appointment, I said to myself, hoping my prospective client would understand. I lay there listening to the sounds around me for what seemed like an eternity. I opened my eyes and looked at the clock. It was now 2:15, and I was still on the gurney. I hadn’t been seen by anyone.
That’s it! I said to myself. I moved the blanket aside and sat up. I waited a moment to make sure I could walk, then slid off the table and started toward the exit, where there was a sign for a phone. I was dizzy, but other than that, I felt okay. I did have a severe pain in my neck, but nothing a few aspirin couldn’t heal.
I took a quarter from my pocket and placed it in the coin slot. The familiar ring as the coin passed through the slot prompted a dial tone and alerted me it was okay to make the call. I pushed the numbers on the keypad and waited for an answer. I reached out and steadied myself by placing my left hand on the wall for support.
“Hello?” came the voice on the phone.
“Dad, it’s Jerry. I’m at the Quincy City Hospital. I was in an accident. Can you come down?”
“I’ll be right there,” he replied. “Are you all right?”
“I guess that’s what I’m here to find out,” I replied.
“I’m on my way,” he answered, and before he could hang up the phone, I asked him to call my wife to let her know what happened.
“Tell her I’m okay, and that we’ll call her when you get here.”
“I’ll call her right away,” he replied. “I’ll see you in a few minutes,” then he hung up the phone.
My parents arrived twenty minutes later. I was still sitting on the gurney in the hallway.
“Are you all right?” he asked, as he and my mother moved quickly toward me. A look of concern shrouded my mother’s gaze as she moved to my side and grasped my hand.
“I think so,” I replied. “But I got here almost an hour and a half ago, and I still haven’t talked with a doctor.”
“Wait here,” replied my father. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Dad,” I replied, “I don’t want to stay here any longer. I want to leave and go to Norwood Hospital. I don’t feel comfortable here.”
“Just wait a minute, and let me find out what’s going on,” he said, moving his hands toward the floor, an indication for me to stay put.
While he went to find someone to speak with, I turned to my mother who had hold of my hand.
“Come on, Mom, I’m leaving.”
“Jerry,” she pleaded. “Please, just wait for your father to return.”
“Where’s the car?” I asked. “I don’t want to stay here another minute.” I couldn’t explain it, but I just didn’t feel comfortable being there.
As I made my way toward the exit with my mother in tow, I heard someone shout behind me. I turned to find a doctor walking toward me with my father.
“You can’t leave!” he began. “We haven’t seen you yet!”
“And at this rate I could be dead by the time you get around to it,” I retorted, smiling as I said to myself, and that wouldn’t be all that bad! I continued walking out the door, holding my mother’s hand. My father knew better than to stop me. We arrived at the car and got inside.
“Dad, could you to take me to Norwood Hospital?” I asked. “I’m sorry, but I’ve waited long enough.”
“We’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he replied.
My mother was watching me, a concerned look on her face. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.
“I have a pain in my neck, but that’s all. I need to have that checked out when we get there, so don’t let me forget.”
My parents looked at each other, and I could tell they were worried. Thirty minutes later, we pulled into the hospital emergency area and went inside. We were met by a doctor my father knew and a nurse who was the sister of my friend Randy’s wife. I told them what happened and that I was concerned about the pain in my neck. They rushed me into a room, where I disrobed and was prepped for a CAT Scan. The procedure took about forty-five minutes. When it was over, I returned to the emergency room and remained on the gurney to wait for the results. My parents came into the room a few moments later, and my wife was with them.
“Honey, are you okay?” she asked, rushing to my side.
“I’m fine,” I replied. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I am, too,” she replied. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”
“There was nothing you could have done, but thanks. I’m glad you’re here now.” I squeezed her hand to let her know I was okay.
Fifteen minutes later, the doctor walked in with the results of my CAT Scan. “You must have had quite an accident,” he began. “The bad news is you’ve broken your neck.” He placed the scan where we all could view it.
“Your C-5 has been completely severed. You’re very fortunate that broken bone hasn’t shifted, or you could have been paralyzed for life. See this black line through the C-5? That indicates a very clear and clean break. Quite frankly, you’ve been taking a big risk even walking. That bone could move at any moment, and then we’d be faced with an entirely different set of circumstances.”
I listened to what the doctor had to say and watched intently as my wife and parents hung on every word that emerged from his mouth. But I knew better.
“I want to keep you here and place your head in a device we call a halo. It’s a simple apparatus that keeps your head perfectly still so the bone has a chance to heal properly without the possibility of shifting prior to healing. You shouldn’t be here any longer than six weeks, maybe less, depending on how quickly it heals.”
I almost laughed out loud. How ironic! I almost make it to heaven, and now I’m back on earth and about to be given a halo! No one would believe this story.
My parents and my wife immediately looked at me for some kind of response. I don’t think anyone was ready for my reply.
“Thank you very much, Doctor, but I won’t be staying.”
He looked at me like I was some kind of nut. “Haven’t you heard a word I said?” he asked. “You’re in a very precarious position here, one that could change at any moment.”
“I understand,” I replied, “but I have things to do, and I know I’ll be okay.”
“Jerry,” my father began, “let’s consider what the doctor said before we decide what to do. After all, who knows more about this kind of thing than he does?”
“First of all, Dad, this is not a we decision. I sincerely appreciate your bringing me here, but I’m not staying!”
“You don’t understand,” persisted the doctor, “if that bone shifts even the slightest bit, you could be paralyzed for life!”
“Thanks, Doctor, but I’ve already been told that’s not going to happen. I have things I need to do. That’s all.”
I took my wife’s hand, then looked back at the doctor and asked, “Could you please give me a collar so I can go home?”
My response was not what my wife nor my parents wanted to hear. Unfortunately, they didn’t know what I knew, so understanding was going to be hard for them. Yet I knew I was going to be all right, and that was good enough for me. I signed the release forms and waited while the nurse removed the plastic wrapping from the collar and placed it around my neck.
“Doctor, thank you so much for your help. Please don’t think I’m being disrespectful, but this is something I need to do,” I said, reaching out to shake his hand.
“I want to see you here in one week for X-rays! We can make certain there has been no shift in that C-5,” he replied.
“I’ll be here,” I answered and thanked him again. Outside, I thanked my parents for their help.
“Just remember, if there’s anything you need, call me!” said my father.
“I will,” I promised.
I kissed them both good-bye and then joined my wife in the car for the ride home. We didn’t talk much because she was still pretty upset over my unwillingness to stay in the hospital. I was hoping she would understand better when I revealed the whole story, but sadly that was not the case.
It was exactly one week later when I arrived back at the hospital for my follow-up X-rays. I got there early in the morning and was finished with my exam within an hour. My wife joined me in the doctor’s office for his report.
“How’s that neck feeling?” he asked.
“It feels fine,” I replied.
“I’m not happy you chose to leave,” he said, as he placed the X-ray films on the light screen behind him. He looked over the films for several minutes, then picked up the phone and called his assistant into his office.
“Get me the CAT Scan we did a week ago on this patient.”
The woman appeared with the scan in a matter of moments. “Here you are, Doctor.”
He placed the scans on his desk and continued to move his head back and forth between the films and the scan. He yelled to his assistant once again, “Are you sure this is the right scan?”
The assistant came to the door. “Yes, Doctor. They haven’t left this file since they were placed here the day he left, on the eighth of this month.”
He dismissed her with the wave of his hand and continued to look over the films. “I don’t understand this,” he began. My wife began to look worried. Expecting the worst, she clung to my hand and waited.
The doctor placed the X-rays over the light board on the wall. “Except for this small black line on the end of this C-5 vertebra, there’s no evidence whatsoever that you even broke your neck.”
He pointed to the scan, then back to the X-ray.
“This makes no sense at all,” he said, shaking his head back and forth. “In all my years of practicing medicine, I’ve never seen anything like it. You’re a very lucky man. Do you see here on the scan where the black line goes completely across this C-5?” My wife and I both leaned forward, stared at the black line, and nodded in confirmation.
“Now look at this X-ray,” he said, pointing to the area of the break. “There should be a white line indicating the break, but there’s nothing. There is a fraction of a centimeter here,” he said, pointing, “at the very edge of the bone. That’s the only evidence whatsoever there was a break at all! I don’t understand, but it appears you’re completely healed, and I can’t even tell you how it happened!”
My wife turned to me as she began to realize that what I had revealed to her on the drive home from the hospital was the truth. There was no other explanation. She stared at me for the longest time without saying a word.
The doctor noticed her staring at me and asked, “Is there something you haven’t told me that I should know? I haven’t got a clue what’s going on here.”
I smiled at my wife, and then I turned to the doctor. “No, but thank you, Doctor. You’ve been a great hel