When I was 39 years old and lived in Denver, I was involved in a serious car accident. A stolen vehicle, pursued by police, exited the interstate highway at a residential area and traveled at a high rate of speed through a neighborhood. I remember driving my Jeep Cherokee and seeing a green light.

The next thing I recall is standing in a room and looking up at a man behind a podium, about ten feet in front of me. He smiled gently and said, "You're going back, Steve. You must do what I tell you."

I nodded and said, "Okay."