Robert Bare: The Policeman Who Died for 45 Minutes and Saw His Entire Life

Robert Bare spent decades wielding power over people's lives. As a California Highway Patrol officer, he was strict, conservative, and saw the world in absolutes. After retiring from the force, he continued in positions of authority as a university professor and city manager. He describes himself as "very black and white, probably very strict and super conservative." That's how he conducted himself, and that's how he interacted with everyone around him. Power shaped his identity, and he used it without hesitation.

Then, in 2009, he died. And everything he thought he knew about life, death, and what really matters collapsed like a house of cards.

The Warning No One Believes

In 2008, about a year before his death, Robert received a phone call from an old police buddy. They'd worked together in the 1960s and had that rare kind of friendship where you can pick up right where you left off, no matter how much time has passed. But this call was different. Mid-conversation, his friend stopped him and said: "Robert, I feel compelled to ask you something. Are you right with the Lord?"

Robert was confused. "What are you talking about?" His friend couldn't explain it, just said he felt compelled to ask. Robert brushed it off. He thought he was fine.

Toward the end of 2008, Robert woke up in the middle of the night. At the foot of his bed stood his mother, who had passed away in 2005. She looked exactly as she had when he was a little boy, beautiful and young. She spoke to him, though he doesn't know if it was in words or telepathically. She told him he was going to die, that he needed to get his affairs in order and handle all his personal things. Then she disappeared.

Robert was furious with himself. There she was, his mother, and all he could think about afterward was that he'd missed his chance to tell her how much he loved her and missed her. He woke up in a pool of sweat, unable to sleep. He called his father, who was still alive, and told him what happened. His father wanted to know if she'd asked about him.

Shortly after that vision, Robert's friend, the one who'd called to ask if he was right with the Lord, passed away. Robert drove down to California for the celebration of life and gave a eulogy about their time together. Then he went home to prepare for his annual spring trip to Arizona.

Before he left, he woke up again in the middle of the night. This time, his deceased friend was standing at the foot of his bed, exactly where his mother had appeared. He looked young. He said: "I'm going to bring you through the light." Robert asked what he meant. His friend said he had to leave now, that he wanted to visit his grandchildren in Sacramento. Then he vanished.

Robert couldn't sleep. He made some phone calls and confirmed something he hadn't known: his friend's grandchildren did live in Sacramento.

He'd just had a full physical. He put the visions out of his mind and flew to Phoenix.

The Day Everything Changed

March 22, 2009. The day after Robert's birthday. He'd spent the past week in Phoenix with his son, a high school football, baseball, and basketball coach, and his granddaughters. They'd gone to spring training games, usually two a day. But Robert hadn't felt well the entire trip. It was unusually hot, close to 100 degrees every day, and he's from the coastal climate of Oregon. He thought it was just the heat.

But he kept feeling worse. By the time his son dropped him off at the airport, Robert was actually looking forward to getting on the plane and going home. He walked into the terminal and saw the massive TSA line. He didn't know how he was going to make it through. He bought some aspirin at a convenience store and took them. That probably saved his life.

He boarded the plane. As he was putting his things in the overhead bin, he dropped dead of a massive heart attack.

He was lucky. Two off-duty firemen from the Pacific Northwest were on the plane, along with a doctor. They knew how to work the defibrillator and perform CPR. But Robert doesn't remember any of that.

He gravitated into a light. He saw colors that don't exist on Earth. It was absolutely beautiful. It was warm. Someone was with him, maybe more than one soul. He ended up in a place that wasn't quite an auditorium, but felt like one. He knew there were people or souls all around him, but he didn't pay much attention to them.

Because right in front of him was a higher power.

He could not look at it. It was too humbling. He doesn't know how it was said or conveyed, but he was asked: What good had he done in his life?

The Life Review That Changed Everything

The next thing he knew, he was drawn to the left. He watched a total review of his life, from the moment he was conceived until the moment he died.

He saw his parents standing next to an old Chevrolet. His mother was smiling, wearing a plaid skirt and sweater. After he returned to life, he told his father about it. His father went to a box of old pictures and pulled one out. It was exactly what Robert had seen. His father explained: that was one of the best days of his mother's life. They'd just left the doctor's office. She'd found out she was pregnant with Robert. His father had asked her to marry him, and they'd gotten married that day. Robert was conceived before they were married, something his mother would have killed his father for mentioning while she was alive. But they'd been married for more than 50 years before she died.

Robert had seen the day he was conceived.

He continued watching his life as a young boy. It was phenomenal to watch the interactions and the life lessons he'd learned. When he was about four or five, his family used to go shopping in San Jose on Saturdays. One time, he saw baseball cards in a store, a nickel a pack. He asked his father if he could get them. His mother overheard and said no. So Robert stole the cards.

When they got home, he was in his bedroom opening the packs. Each one had a little stick of hard gum. He popped it in his mouth. His mother opened the door. She saw what he had. He got in so much trouble. His parents loaded him up in the car and drove back to the store. His mother made him take the baseball cards and what was left of the gum, wrapped up, to the store manager. She told the manager their son had stolen the cards. She went off in a tirade about how it was unacceptable in her family. The manager could call the police if he wanted. She didn't care.

Robert could read the manager's mind during the life review. The man was thinking: this is a five-year-old kid. I don't want to call the police on him. He finally just asked for a nickel. Robert's dad gave him the nickel. Robert was grounded for weeks.

When Robert told his father this story after his NDE, his father laughed. Robert said: "You and Mom did your job as parents. That had a profound effect on my life." He thanked his father for it.

He continued watching himself develop. Some of the good moments were when he met somebody and fell in love. He got to feel that all over again. It was wonderful.

But then came the hardest part.

The Truth About Betrayal

The hardest thing Robert had to deal with, which he still struggles with, is betrayal. And in the place where he was, there's nothing but the truth. That's all it is. Truth.

He'd been through a confrontational divorce. It was so bad that he didn't speak to his ex-wife for years. They had a daughter who's now an attorney. After Robert's NDE, his daughter had to have surgery for a cancer situation. Robert drove to the hospital. He and his ex-wife were both in the waiting room.

He made the comment: "You know, we haven't talked for a long time, and things were kind of ugly between us. We have a daughter that's probably going to need both of us. Let's just bury the hatchet and make the best of this situation for her."

They agreed. Then Robert asked her something. He told her about some of the betrayal he'd seen in his life review. She admitted to it. What he'd seen actually happened.

And it wasn't just her. It was betrayal from people he'd worked with, people he'd thought were his friends. Maybe they did it intentionally, maybe not. But all of it was thrown right at him during his life review. He's had a really hard time dealing with that, because he knows everything that was hard to deal with.

But then something started fidgeting over on the right.

Scooter

Robert looked over to the right. There was his dog, Scooter, who had died in 2001. He could not believe he saw her. He did not know that dogs went to the afterlife. He didn't even know about the afterlife. But there she was, and she was so happy to see him. She couldn't come to him, but it was so good to see her, and she was so happy.

He kept looking at his life review. He saw himself in all these different circumstances. He doesn't know how it happened, but he saw the birth of his children. He got to live all the wonderful moments and all the sad moments.

Then he ended up back in his body.

Two Deaths, Two Experiences

Robert was revived in a hospital bed in the emergency room. He found out later he'd been deceased for at least 45 minutes. A short time later, he passed away again.

This time, he was deceased for about 10 minutes. He was very lucky. He had a doctor from Pakistan who would not let him die. The doctor was a wonderful man.

The second time Robert died, he had a completely different type of experience. He hovered on top of the bed. He was watching them work on him. He could see the flatline on the monitor. He heard them yelling that they'd lost him again.

But his attention wasn't focused on them. It was focused on another part of the hospital. When he'd come in on the ambulance, they'd put his personal things in the ambulance too. There were a couple of people going through his wallet, trying to find out who he was. Robert was watching them and listening to them talk. He carries two wallets. One has his regular citizen stuff. The other has his badge and ID. They were trying to find his insurance cards. Robert was trying to tell them where his insurance cards were, because they were in his police wallet.

As he was trying to talk to them, he realized they couldn't hear him. Then he thought: I must be dead.

The next thing he knew, he was revived again. The doctor had brought him back.

Robert spent several days in intensive care. He was probably trying to stay around long enough for his daughter and son to travel to see him. The doctor kept coming in and checking on him. Robert told him about what he'd seen, about them going through his stuff while they were working on him in the emergency room during his second death. The doctor said: "You saw that?"

Robert said yes, he'd heard everything they said. The doctor went and got the people who'd been working that day and brought them to Robert's bed. He told them to tell Robert what they'd said. When Robert told them, they said: "That's exactly what we said. Word for word."

Robert brings this up for a reason. You'll hear people talk about near-death experiences. Some will talk about a life review. Some will talk about hovering over their body. Some may talk about different things. But there are no cameras, no videos. You're like Marco Polo or Mark Twain or Christopher Columbus. You experience something new, and you try to tell people about it, and all they have is your word.

Robert had two different types of near-death experiences on the same day. If you hear this from somebody else who talks about hovering over the bed or seeing something, there's more than one type.

The Long Road Home

Robert spent a lot of time in the hospital. All he wanted was to go home, to go back to Oregon. The doctor didn't want him to leave. He said Robert needed another surgery. Robert just wanted to go home. Finally, the doctor arranged to have a colleague in Oregon do the next surgery. He told Robert: "If I put you on a plane, as soon as you get to Oregon, you're going to have to go in and get that surgery done."

Robert promised. He doesn't know how he made it on that flight, but he did. He made it all the way home to Oregon, then went to the hospital and had the next surgery.

As of the day he told this story, Robert had lived 4,999 extra days. The next day would make 5,000. It's truly a blessing.

He tries to live every day like it's his last day.

About the same time Robert died, Michael Jackson, the rock star, died. He was deceased for about 45 minutes as well. They took him to a doctor in Los Angeles who was renowned for raising the dead. That doctor couldn't revive Michael Jackson. Robert had a doctor from Pakistan who just wouldn't let him die.

Robert has often wondered what Michael Jackson would have given to have had 4,999 additional days of life.

It's truly a blessing. Robert feels very blessed.

What This Story Reveals

Robert Bare's account is one of the most evidential near-death experiences on record. The verified details he observed while clinically dead, the hospital staff confirming his out-of-body observations word for word, the two distinct types of NDE on the same day, all point to the same conclusion: consciousness does not depend on a functioning brain.

But what strikes me most about Robert's story isn't the evidence. It's the life review.

The life review is one of the most consistently reported features of NDEs, and Robert's account reveals its true nature. It's not a judgment. It's not punishment. It's a teaching. The higher power didn't condemn Robert for the times he'd failed. It asked: what good had you done? And then it showed him his entire life, not to shame him, but to help him understand.

He saw himself as a five-year-old boy stealing baseball cards. He watched his parents teach him a lesson about integrity that shaped the rest of his life. He felt the joy of falling in love all over again. And yes, he confronted every betrayal he'd experienced, including the ones that still hurt. But the review didn't destroy him. It freed him.

After his NDE, Robert was able to sit in a hospital waiting room with his ex-wife and say: let's bury the hatchet. He was able to ask her about the betrayals he'd seen and hear her admit to them. And he was able to forgive. Not because he's a saint, but because he'd seen the truth: we're all flawed, we all hurt each other, and the only path forward is love.

The detail about Scooter, Robert's dog, is also significant. He had no idea that animals could be part of the afterlife. But there she was, happy and whole, unable to come to him but radiating joy at seeing him. This is one of the most common and touching features of NDEs: reunion with beloved pets. It suggests that the bonds we form in this life, even with animals, are real and enduring.

Robert's two different NDEs on the same day also reveal something important: there isn't one standard near-death experience. Some people have a life review. Some hover over their body. Some meet deceased loved ones. Some see a light. The experience seems to be tailored to what each person needs. Robert needed both: the life review to confront his past and the out-of-body experience to provide undeniable evidence that what he was experiencing was real.

And that evidence is crucial. When Robert told the hospital staff exactly what they'd said while going through his wallet, word for word, they confirmed it. There's no way he could have known that through normal means. He was clinically dead, with no brain activity. Yet he was there, watching, listening, aware.

This is what consciousness looks like when it's freed from the limitations of the body. It doesn't end. It expands.

Robert Bare was a man who wielded power without much thought for how it affected others. He was strict, conservative, black and white. Then he died, and he saw every moment of his life from a perspective of absolute truth. He saw the good he'd done and the harm he'd caused. He saw the people who'd betrayed him and the people he'd hurt. And he came back transformed.

He's now lived 5,000 extra days. He counts every one as a gift. He shares his story through Spiritual Awakenings International and in multiple interviews, hoping to help others understand what he learned: that this life is the classroom, that love is the curriculum, and that we're all eternal beings learning how to become better versions of ourselves.

The life review awaits all of us. Not as punishment, but as teaching. Not to condemn us, but to show us the truth about who we've been and who we can become. Robert's story is a gift to all of us: a reminder that it's never too late to change, to forgive, to love more fully. And that when our time comes, we won't face judgment. We'll face compassion, and truth, and the chance to finally understand what it all meant.