CARLTON FLETCHER: Perhaps those near-death experiences are some kind of warning

“One day you’ll be in the ditch, flies buzzing around your eyes, blood on your saddle.”

— Bob Dylan

We got into a conversation the other day about near-death experiences. It dawned on me that, while there are those we know who no doubt have had hair-raising and harrowing such experiences, most of us are pretty well-protected in modern-day America.

Oh, we’ll talk about the time we drove home “drunk out of my head” and wonder how we made it alive, and we’ll tell of the hurricane that hit “only a few miles away,” leaving us thankful that we “got out of that alive.”

But when I think of near-death experiences, I focus on the ones in which our life actually was in danger, not somewhere near danger. I think of the times that either faith or divine intervention is what allowed us to maintain this mortal coil.

I have three.

One was really more of an after-death experience. I was brought back from the beyond by a crash team at Phoebe Putney Memorial Hospital while recovering from cancer surgery. What I know about that experience is only what I’ve been told, but suffice it to say this event had a huge impact on my life. (And, yes, I did have one of those near-death visions that I always thought were TV/movie staples … something that I don’t talk about much.)

The second such experience came when I was about 5 or 6 years old, and while that was a looooooong time ago, I remember it as clearly as if it happened last week. I was at a gathering at a lake somewhere in south Georgia — the where of this story, I don’t remember — and I remember there were some 40-50 people there, people of all ages. Neither I nor my siblings knew how to swim, so we mostly just waded close to the shore.

Our parents were there, but for a brief period they went out on a ski boat with some of their friends, leaving us to “stay right here and don’t go out into the deeper water.” I remember thinking that admonition wasn’t needed because none of the three of us had any interest in venturing out into water above our wastes.

However, there was a pier near the swimming area, and I walked out on it, wanting to get a different view. When I decided it was best to head back to where my brother and sister were playing in the water, I came up with the bright idea of taking a short cut … so I jumped off the pier. The water was way over my head, and I remember bobbing up and down as I fought to get into water shallow enough for me to stand up.

I had fought to the point of exhaustion and honestly remember telling myself, “You’re going to drown right here around all these people.” Out of nowhere, though, a teenage girl — I had no idea who she was — reached over and grabbed me by the hair and arm and pulled me to shore. I don’t even recall telling her thank you, I was so scared, but I didn’t get back into the water the rest of the day.

My third NDE came when I was in my 20s, working with my dad. One of my co-workers/buddies and I decided to drive into town to get something to eat, and we were late heading back to the job. He had a souped-up Charger — — bright yellow — that I always admired. I asked him to let me drive, and he was cool with it.

We came upon a slow-moving semi on a slight hill, and when I decided to pass, there was nothing coming … as far as I could see. But when I got two-thirds of the way around, I saw a car coming right at us. I was going around 80 and did not hesitate; I floored it, and we swerved in in front of the semi with only a few inches to spare.

When my hands stopped shaking, I told Carl, “If we’d been in my car, you and I would be dead right now. No way would my car have been fast enough to pull off that maneuver.”

So, yeah, I’ve had my brushes with the end, near-misses that, in retrospect, often — but should always — remind me of how lucky I am to be here. As you consider such calamity in your own life, perhaps you (and I and everyone else) should use those occasions to be thankful that you’re still around. Perhaps, you might think, there’s a reason that you are. I encourage you not to waste it.