Flight to Heaven

Flight To Heaven



Prologue

My life was forever changed on July 18, 1969. As a nineteen-year-old brash young pilot in flight training, I boarded a commuter airplane with two other pilots. Just after take-off, we crashed into a cemetery’s seven-story tall aviation mausoleum, dedicated to famous pilots.

I was the only survivor. For three days I drifted in and out of a coma but not before taking an uncharted trip . . . to heaven. What I experienced there, words can not do justice. Even the best words pale before the indescribable. You should know, however, that for many months following the crash, due to serious amnesia, I remembered nothing. Nothing of the crash, the seventy-foot fall in a tangled mass of metal, the first three days in the hospital, nor my visit to heaven. At least, my mind did not remember. My heart? Well, that’s a different story.

I was assigned to Dr. Homer Graham, the “doctor of the stars,” best known as Evel Knievel’s surgeon. My injuries were massive, but when I awoke in the ICU, I was a changed man. Yet I had no memory as to why. It seemed as if I had been given new eyes. I felt as if I were looking into another dimension. It was like watching a movie, then putting on special glasses and realizing that the movie you were watching all along was in 3-D. But when I awoke I was seeing way beyond 3-D. Everything was in 4-D. A “filter” that had been over my eyes since birth had somehow been removed. That was forty years ago.

What you’re about to read is how and why my life was turned upside down by an airplane crash. You’ll understand why every major decision I’ve made since the accident was a direct result of my journey to heaven. Those who have known me well may now understand why I’ve seemed like a bit of a misfit, and why my life has often followed an off-beat path.

You’ll learn why I’ve been emboldened and compelled to share the love of God with others. You’ll learn why I volunteered on almost a thousand flights to more than fifty countries, building churches, orphanages and medical clinics. You learn why I’ve trained lay ministers and medical personnel to help the needy worldwide, usually at my own expense.

Since that fateful day in 1969, I have shared my story about the crash and the amazing recovery many times. But I have never shared publicly about my journey to heaven until now.

How could I keep this life-changing event a secret? There are several reasons.

Right after the crash I remembered almost nothing. My memory was like a jigsaw puzzle with only a few recognizable pieces. It would take six months to start getting my memory back. And even longer for my injured mind and my transformed heart to get in sync.

I told my grandfather about my heavenly journey immediately after my memory returned but he cautioned me about telling others. He said, “Dale, if your experience is sacred, why not keep it secret?”

FLIGHT TO HEAVEN Copyright © 2010 by Dale Black

Bethany House Publishers is a division of Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.