Near-death experience shapes health, faith: Colorado man says cholera death led to hell vision and conversion
Former atheist says a four-hour death and hellish visions prompted his embrace of evangelical Christianity

A Fort Collins, Colorado, man who says he died for four hours after contracting cholera during a construction job in Tucson, Arizona, describes a journey through a hellish realm before being rescued by Jesus and undergoing a dramatic religious conversion. The account, which blends health events with a vivid afterlife vision, has shaped his public work as an evangelical speaker and author.
Melvin, now 67, recalls falling ill after drinking water contaminated with rust-colored algae and subsequently developing cholera, along with a neurotoxin exposure and dysentery. He told the Daily Mail that a diagnosis came only a day later and that, after his housemates urged him to seek hospital care, he refused. Two days later, when friends planned a trip out of town and left him alone, he says his condition worsened abruptly and he “died.” He estimates the episode lasted about four hours.

During the out-of-body phase, Melvin says he rose above his physical form, floated through the ceiling, and moved toward a disorienting void that gave way to a radiant sense of life and music. He says the experience began with a perception of being more alive than ever as he headed toward a light and heard a piece of music rendered in a language he understood without translation. He describes being questioned about his life and being shown snippets of past actions, including acts of theft, deception, and ridicule toward Christianity.
The landscape he described resembled a tunnel or a pit of heat and foul odors, with a cube-like structure of cells stacked high and a red, molten terrain. He recalled hearing taunting sounds from beings he described as demons and witnessing the torment of people who were being punished in ways that mirrored things they had done in life. Among those he says he saw were Adolf Hitler and Reinhard Heydrich, figures he said were punished in flames within the scene.
Melvin says he understood at the moment that he was in a place of judgment, and that his return was not guaranteed. He recalls a figure resembling Jesus, with holes in the wrists, delivering a message that he would be given a path back but that the option for return would be decided later. He says Jesus carried him out of the place, and he claims to have wept as he was pulled back through the void and into his body.
He woke in a Tucson hospital in excruciating pain, found ice-cold, and with a medical team treating him for the aftereffects of near-death. He describes guards and medical staff performing routine interventions—blood described as viscous, an oxygen mask on his face, and the impression of rigor mortis beginning to set in. He later learned that his records were difficult to access or had aged beyond a standard retention period, and he has said that his medical documentation from the episode is limited.
The experience did not end his health challenges. Melvin says he has faced ongoing health issues and relapses since the episode and has sought records and documentation to corroborate his account. He published a book in 2005 titled A Land Unknown: Hell's Dominion, in which he recounts the episode in detail and frames it as a turning point that redirected his life toward faith.
Today, Melvin travels the United States as an evangelical speaker, offering testimony and prayer ministry at churches and prayer groups. He says his goal is to warn others about the stakes of living in what he describes as a life of sin and to encourage people to seek spiritual paths aligned with his interpretation of Christian doctrine. “People's lives have been shattered by life, they're broken, they're battered, and they're bruised,” he said, describing his mission to help others through faith.
Experts who study near-death experiences frame such accounts as complex neurological and psychological phenomena. Dr. Donna Thomas, a researcher at the University of Lancashire, has noted that many near-death experiences begin with sensory phenomena such as bright lights and a sense of being outside the body, while researchers like Bruce Greyson of the University of Virginia have documented that only a subset of people report transition to a vivid, hell-like or punitive scene. Greyson has estimated that a minority—roughly 11 to 22 percent of people who report near-death experiences—include experiences that resemble intense judgment or punishment rather than purely blissful visions. While Melvin’s account aligns with reported patterns of transformation after such episodes, researchers emphasize that experiences vary widely and can be shaped by cultural, religious, and personal factors.
Melvin’s story underscores a broader intersection of health, belief, and identity. Cholera remains a life-threatening illness in some settings, and the aftereffects of severe infection can be long-lasting, sometimes accompanied by cognitive or mood changes as patients recover. In Melvin’s case, the reported experience appears to have coincided with a profound shift in worldview, leading him to embrace a faith he previously opposed and to pursue public ministry focused on evangelical outreach. While his narrative may be extraordinary, it sits within a broader archive of near-death experiences that continue to intrigue researchers, clinicians, and readers alike as they explore the boundaries between biology, consciousness, and belief.