Sunday, November 30, 2014

My Near Death Experience in 1978

In  1978,   at  age  25,  I  had  a  minor  stroke.    I  was  sound  asleep  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  enjoying  a  very  pleasant  dream,  when  all  of  a  sudden  the  dream  mutated  into  a  horrible,  black  nightmare.   It  got  worse  and  worse,  until  something  forced  "me"  out  of  my  body.   I  found  myself  in  perfect  health  in  a  place  of  subdued  light.  It  was  extremely  comfortable,  except  that  in  the  background  I  heard  what  I  came  to  refer  to,  later,  as  "a  schizophrenic  orchestra"  playing  disordered  "music"  in  the  background.

I  looked  to  my  right,  and  saw  a  tunnel  going  up  at  about  a  30  degree  angle.  The  tunnel  was  about  100  yards  wide.    It  seemed  to  go  up  for  miles.

I  began  to  rise  into  the  tunnel,  as  I  heard  the  "music"  of  the  "schizophrenic  orchestra"   retreating  into  the  background.

As  I  rose,  I  flew  "eyeballs  first."  That's  about  as  well  as  I  can  describe  it.     I  think  that  I  was  naked,  but  I  couldn't  have  cared  less.     Though  aware  that  I  was  dead,   I  was  completely  unafraid,    and  perfectly  comfortable.    I  was  only  intent  on  what  lay  ahead,  as  I  flew  up  at  maybe  50  mph.    I  went  up,  up,  up,    until  at  a  particular  point  I  saw  a  brilliant  light  source  in  the  distance.  I  thought,  "Huh!"  I  stared  hard  at  the  light  source,    trying  to  discern  detail.

As  I  came  within  100  yards  of  it,  my  velocity  upwards  slowed.  I  was  deeply  shocked  to  see   that  the  light  source  was  brilliant  background  light  behind  an  ordinary  rectangular  door-shaped  opening.  The  shape  of  the  doorway  is  what  struck  me.     I  thought,  "Huh!  They  have  that  shape  doorway  up  here ???"

I  continued  slowing  to  a  few  miles  per  hour.

Then,  something  happened.     Something  wiped-out  my  memory  of  what  happened  during  the  next  few  minutes.  I  believe  that  it  was  intentional.  I  deduce  from  where  the  memory  picks-up  next  that  I  was  told  something.     I  have  this  vague,  vague  memory  that  "guys  in  cowls"  --   monks ?  --  talked  to  me,  but  I  don't  know  for  sure  if  that  is  my  imagination  being  over-active.

My  memory  of  the  event  picks-up  where  I  am  still  floating  in  the  tunnel,  but  I  am  very,  very  slowly  starting  to  float  back  down,  feet  first.  I  am  thinking  to  myself,    "I  have  too  much  to  DO !!!   I  have  too  much  to  DO !!!   I  have  too  much  to  DO !!!   I  have  too  much  to  DO !!!   I  have  too  much  to  DO !!!   I  have  too  much  to  DO !!! "  I  couldn't  care  less  that  I  am  rushing  down  the  tunnel,  faster  and  faster  and  faster,  feet  first,  at  what  was  maybe  hundreds  of  miles  per  hour.  I  only  want  to  get  back  to my  body.

At  the  bottom  of  the  tunnel,  I  zzzzzzzzzziiiiiiiiiipppppppppp  back  into  my  body  with  a  kind  of  a  "thump,"  which  forces  me  to  wake-up  in  my  body,  in  my  bed.  From  this  point  on,  my  Near  Death  Experience  has  ended.      I  could  immediately  tell  that  something  had  gone  seriously  wrong  in  my  brain.    I  tried  to  think,   with  words,  "What  is  wrong  with  my  brain?"   But  the  words  got  all  jumbled-up.   I  tried  to  say  something  like,  "Will  my  brain  get  better"  outloud  in  the  bedroom,  but  my  tongue  articulated  the  words  all  jumbled-up,  with  remarkable  efficiency.     The  effect  on  me  of  being  able  to  jumble-up  words  with  my  brain  and  my  tongue  with  wonderful  dexterity  caught  me  so  much  by  surprise  that  I  was  really  amused.  I  tried  to  say  other  things  out  loud,  and  jumbled  them  up  with  the  same  amazing  efficiency.  I  was  pleased.

But  then  I  got  serious.  I  abandoned  the  use  of  words  in  my  thinking,  and  I  began  to  "apprehend"  full  ideas,  without  words.  I  apprehended  that  I  probably  had  a  stroke,  that  it  was  probably  a  small  one,  and  that  I  might  recover.  I  apprehended  without  words  that  the  first  thing  I  should  do  is  finish  my  night's  sleep.  I  laid  down  and  went  to  sleep.

The  following  morning, when  I  awakened,  I  could  immediately  tell  that  I  was  still  "struck  dumb."    I began  thinking  by  that  "apprehending"  of  things  without  words.      Thinking  without  words  was  very  interesting,  and  extremely  efficient.  My  thoughts  galloped  like a  race  horse.

I  went  downstairs  to  the  kitchen.  In  the  presence  of  the  rest  of  the  family,  I  felt  deep,  deep  shame  at  being  struck  dumb,  I  don't  know  why.  When  anyone  asked  me  a  question,  I  just  answered  "HRRRRMMMMPH !!!"    They  concluded  that  I  was  angry  at  something.

Later,  when  the  family  was  out  of  the  house,   I  took  a  trolley  up  to  the  offices  of  the  family  doctor  on  Castor  Avenue  just  south  of  Cottman    in  Northeast  Philadelphia.  The  doctor  drove  me  to  Nazareth  Hospital,     where  they  diagnosed  my  condition  as  "an  ischemic  attack."   He  sent  me  home  with  a  prescription  which  I  never  filled.

I  avoided  everyone  for  two  weeks,  waiting  for  my  ability  to  speak  to  come  back.  And  come  back  it  did.

Lest  anyone  think  that  I  am  implying  here  that  I  was  "Heaven-bound"  in  1978,   I  should  add  that  in  the  case  of  the  thousands  of  other  people   who  have  had  similar  experiences,  but  who  went  farther,   they  discover  that  on  the  other  side  of  that  doorway,  one  goes  to  judgment !!!  The  person  is  asked,  "What  did  you  do  with  the  time  I  gave  you  on  Earth?"

And,  I  should  add,  I  am  a  sinner.  My  wife  Rise`  observed  that  during  the  blacked-out  period  I  was  told  that  I  have  more  to  do  just  to  avoid  being  damned  to  Hell.

I  think  that  she  is  right.

And  I  think  that  I  still  have  more  to  do.

A  final  note:  Law  was  the  best  experience  of  my  life.  I  got  to  open  the  clock  and  see  what  makes  it  tick,  so  to  speak.   One  of  my  friends  in  the  course  of  that  learning  process  was  Medford,  New  Jersey  attorney  Ed  Hogan.   I  told  him  about  my  near  death  experience.     He  responded  with  silence.

A  few  years  ago,  I  tried  to  refer  a  case  to  him.    Ed  said,  "Pete,  I  can't  take  it.  I'm   quitting  law.  I  had  a  pretty  bad  stroke.     I'm  glad  that  it  is  you  calling  --  I  had  essentially  the  same  experience  you  did.   I  went  up  the  tunnel.  I  made  it  through   the  door.    They  told  me  that  it  wasn't  time  for  me  --  that  I  had  to  go  back  to  Earth  for  a  time.  So,  here  I  am."

To  any  skeptics  who  don't  believe  what  I  have  written  here,  I  can  only  say,  God  damn  my  soul  to  Hell  fire  forever  if  I  am  lying,  here.  I  believe  that  telling  the  story  is  a  sacred  enterprise.

Anyway,  friends,  be  good.   Don't  screw  it  up.    Say  a  prayer  for  me.

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