On January 21, 1970 hoeschler was a contestant at the World Downhill Ski Championships in Megeve, France. He shot from the starting gate just as snow was start­ ing to fall. Hoeschler reached 90 miles per hour on the slope, but slowed to 70 as he approached a dangerous S turn. Then he hit a rut.

Hoeschler went hurtling through the air before slamming into a tree.

Jake Hoeschler was dead.

Or, at least he thought he was. He even heard rescuers scrambling down the hill saying he was.

Then everything started getting whiter and whiter for him-but it wasn't the snow. "I felt was I was slowly tumbling and somersault­ing down a long chute," he recounts. "Kind of like an astronaut in space, but untethered. I had no control, but I was not scared. Eventually, I came to a light at the end of that tunnel ... then I seemed to pop out of it. I found myself on the hill-above my body-watching the commotion in three dimensions. I could see all around me at once." The out-of-body Hoeschler felt he was standing next to his ski teammates-one of whom became sick at the sights-as they watched a rescue helicopter arrive not only for Hoeschler, but for another competitor, Michel Bozon, who started 60 seconds ahead of Hoeschler, and crashed at the same turn. Bozon was truly dead after breaking his neck and back.

While observing in his out-of-body form Hoeschler was attracted back to the light that had become incredibly white. "I normally would have fought like mad to stay alive, but at that moment I couldn't have been happier or more content going toward the light," he recalls. "It was fantastic. It was pure love." But then, Hoeschler continued, a voice told him he must go back. "The more I kept trying to go to the light, the more I felt it wasn't my time." Three hours later Hoeschler regained consciousness in a hospital where his coach and teammates told him they was glad to see him alive. He says they were shocked by his recall of what happened because they were sure he was unconscious through the breaking of his arm, both legs and his helmet.

It was not until after that day, Hoeschler says, that he realized there was a Supreme Being, which caused him to begin a search for answers. "I'm no longer afraid of death," he says now. "I've al­ready got a look at it ... and it is beautiful. I hope to live a long and healthy life, however, I want quality not quantity. When it be­comes time to truly pass through the door, I will be ready-espe­ cially now that I know how indescribably fantastic it will be on the other side." ■ Minnesota Insurance Magazine, 2013

Everything was sailing along just fine until the end of 1969 and then life took a sudden turn changing Jake's life forever.

"On January 21, 1970 at approximately 1:50 in the afternoon, I entered the start­ing gate at the World Cup D.H. Ski Championships at Megeve, France. This was one of the fastest and most dangerous downhills in the world," Jake comments.

Jake left the starting gate as snow was beginning to fall. He entered the mid­section of the course at close to 95 mph, but quickly began to slow down as he entered the dangerous fall-away "S" turn. He took the turn at about 70 mph, but hit an outside rut which yanked him off the course through a retaining wall and off a cliff.

He hurtled through the air and managed to get his skis and arms in front of him to try to cushion the blow. It was futile.

Jake says, "I came crashing into a tree, which broke my arm, both legs and split my helmet in half. As I lay hanging up in the tree, I couldn't believe I was still alive. I could hear my rescuers scampering down the cliff but I couldn't talk or move. They said I was dead, but I think I looked worse than I was because of the split hel­met and facial cuts."

Then Jake experienced the most powerful, unbelievable moment of his life - one that he has treasured since that fateful day in France. Things started to get blurry and white. Then things got whiter and whiter. Jake said, "Lord, I don't know if you are ready for me. I know I'm not ready for you, but here I come."

"The next thing I remember was slowly tumbling and somersaulting down a long chute, kind of like an astronaut in space, but untethered. It was not scary, but I had no control. Eventually, I came to the light at the end of the tunnel and popped out. What I think I did was pop out of my earth suit, because I found myself standing up the hill above my body observing all the commotion in three dimensions. I could see all around me at once."

Jake watched as the rescue helicopter came in and the French patrol held back the crowds. He stood next to two of his teammates about 100 yards and one got sick he recounted. The ski patrol put him in one of the outside baskets and put the body of his friend, Michel Bozon in the other basket. Michel had started down the ski slope 60 seconds behind Jake, lost control in the same spot, but crashed headfirst into the trunk of a tree, breaking his neck, back and almost severing his leg.

"While observing all of this, I was attracted to an incredibly white light. It had a brilliant glow that is literally indescribable. Being a tough competitor all my life, I would have thought I would have fought like mad to stay alive, but at that moment I couldn't have been happier or more content going toward the light. It was fantastic! It was pure love," Jake says. Unfortunately, this experience did not last. There was a voice that told Jake that he must go back, that it wasn't his time yet.

Jake says, "The more I kept trying to go to the light, the more I was told that it wasn't my time and that I had to go back to my clumsy, binding earthsuit."

Three hours later. Jake started to regain consciousness in a Megeve hospital. His coach said, "Jake, we're glad you're alive. We didn't think you'd make it."

Jake told them that it was close and was able to vividly recount to them everything that had happened to him, including the death of his friend Michel.

"They were very shocked by what I said since I was unconscious throughout the entire ordeal," Jake says. It was that day he realized that there was a hereafter and a Supreme Being. From that moment on, Jake began searching for answers. He says, "I'm not afraid of death. I've already got a look at it ... and it's beautiful." Now that he knows what is on the other side, he has an experience that is truly out of this world.

"I hope to live a long and healthy life; I want quality- not quantity. But when it is time to go, I'll be ready to pass through that door especially now that I know how indescribably fantastic it will be on the other side." • Bearpath chronicle, 2013