I bet you’re wondering how the twins are doing. Well, they’re happy as two peas in a pod, except when they’re not. Really, they’re doing great. Marcus and Michael are growing up quickly. They’re the life of the party these days. Even when Bud’s around, they seem to take center stage.

That’s partly do to their speaking Latin. Yeah, that’s gotten a lot of attention. They speak Latin more than they do English. When they’re alone, they only speak the Roman tongue except when they fight. And, that’s another story in itself.

The Latin thing has become such a big deal, we’ve started a Latin club. Bud got it going. We have all sorts of people showing up for various and sundry reasons wanting either to learn Latin or just get in on the baffling things that happen in the Borden household.

Actually, Latin Club is part language class, part performance by Marcus and Michael -- and Bud, and part just play time. It picked up where Bud’s block parties left off.

Mostly adults get involved, but we’ve had a few kids join in. Some of them have taken to the new language like it was their own. Speaking Latin becomes sort of a secret game that they can share with just a few select children and adults.

We’ve had professors and experts visit the family to check out the boys and their Latin. They’ve gone away quite baffled. We thought for a time that this was a real first but since learned otherwise. In New York in the 1930s, a physician named McDuffie and his wife had a set of twin baby boys who were noticed to speak their own peculiar vernacular. Eventually, linguists determined that they were speaking ancient Aramaic. Imagine that.

Every story has two sides. So does this one. The boys are great when they’re “onstage” and performing and such. But, we’ve had our hands full at times when they get to fighting. They can be real tigers on occasion.

At first, Joey and I just noticed that their Latin got a little coarse, at times. But eventually, we figured out that they were swearing at each other. “It’s just leftovers,” Bud says.

Bud told us the boys were tagged together as twins because they hadn’t quite come to terms with their relationship in a lifetime long ago. The Baby Doctor says, “They’re lucky they didn’t end up as Siamese twins, like Chang and Eng.”

He says they were Roman citizens. One was a Jew and the other a gentile. They had a love- hate rivalry then. Didn’t tell us the details. So, the rivalry has rolled over into this lifetime. Oh, God! What next?

Buddy boy is doing great. He’ll always be my boy -- at least in some ways. We’ll always be buds, too. He’s all grown up, physically. Working with the newspaper and TV, city hall and the hospital and medical school. It’s all kind of overwhelming. No one has an idea what Bud has in mind to do next.

He’s had his first fling with Miss Julie, now Dr. Julie. But, she’s gone off to distant parts. We may not see her for a long time. Then, there’s our sweet little Mommy Jean. She is a second- grader and loves it. Amazingly, she seems almost unaffected by all the comings and goings in and around our household.

The only thing which might affect her happiness is Nate. Grandpa Nate is starting to go downhill. It began about the time of Bud’s accident. He’s slowing up. Jean hasn’t noticed, yet.

Everybody else notices and even Nate acknowledges it. Doesn’t seem to concern him very much, though. Apparently, Bud and Nate have talked about it and everything is well in hand.

Bud says, “Just another language to be learned.”



What a life I’ve had since Bud, the Baby Doctor, came back to be with us! Maybe I should say, What a life we’ve had! Not just the family, but the hospital crew and the whole city.

It’s been a real gift. Bud really was a Godsend. I’m sure that I’m changed for lifetimes to come. That’s quite a statement coming from a guy who hardly imagined the idea of lifetimes just a few years ago.

Let me just think of some of the other things that have changed. Well, my body changed. I was trim, in good shape, and healthy for a long time. That’s slipping away now, but I’m really not in bad shape for the shape I’m in, if you know what I mean.

My eating has changed tremendously. I can tell you that I really know what a vegetable is now. Took me seventy years, but the vegetable kingdom and I have become good friends. I like fruits, too.

I have, at one time or another, become a walker and a golfer. I was almost a yogi for a while. I learned some music and I learned how to chant, at least the OM. I’ve even learned some Latin. And, they say old dogs can’t learn new tricks. What do they know?!

Well, believe it or not, I even learned some counseling and healing skills. I think I could pose as a medico, if I had to, and get by with it. I know the lingo now and I have the feel for it since spending so much time watching the Baby Doctor in action.
Besides, he put me to work as more than a clerical assistant on several occasions.

You know what else? I learned that healing is really possible most any time. Problem is we look for it too often in the wrong places and in the wrong way. Actually, I think it’s happening all the time, but just in little bits. When we open our eyes and our hearts it can happen in big chunks. The healing vibes are all around us. We just have to call them in. Maybe that’s what we do with the OM and meditation and prayer and whatever.

The most important things I’ve learned have to do with meditation, getting in touch with the Soul, and going beyond death. Old -- or young -- Buddy Boy has sure taken a load off my mind with his challenges to the power of death. I hope I said that right.

What I mean is, Bud died and came right back. Then, Jean followed him. We never would’ve even noticed if he hadn’t come before. Then, Mark and Mike came along. We don’t know who they are, but quite obviously they’ve been here before, talking Latin like they do.

Then, Bud almost dies in the car accident, yet keeps a smile on his face and meditates through the whole hospital thing. You know this whole story reads more like a novel than a factual happening. But, they say truth is often stranger than fiction.

Buddy Boy is real strange, but he’s a keeper, for sure. He’s done right be me. I hope I have by him.

So, I was telling you -- or about to tell you -- that Bud has been teaching me the means to meditation a little bit at a time. Can you believe that -- me learning meditation at seventy years old? Guess it’s never too late.

Really, he says I’ve done quite well. Told me that I’ve done it before way back when. Hinted that I was there, too, in Rome. We were connected somehow. We meditated together back in ancient Italia. Ain’t that something!

Well, we meditated back during that round. Probably others. So, I picked up some of it fairly easily. But, he had other things to teach me. New things, more or less, he said. We’ve gone to some deeper levels.

Part of the reason was to help me be ready for what’s coming up. I mean to die, cut the cord, drop the body, cross the bar, hop the twig, buy the farm, and join the majority. Sounds like I’ll be pretty darn busy.

Gosh, it seems like Buddy Boy just arrived. Now, it’s coming time for me to leave. I’m starting to lose strength and weight and just general interest. I guess I’m beginning to fade away. I don’t need a checkup or a diagnosis to know that my days are numbered. And, I’m not going to hang around until I turn into a lump of protoplasm, a human vegetable. Besides, I’m finished here. I’m getting ready to do my thing on the other side.

Bud’s been helping me get ready. Before he showed up, whenever I thought about dying, it just scared the bejeepers out of me. I never could’ve committed suicide. I was too afraid of dying.

But now, I’m not. And beyond that, it’s kind of -- just kind of -- like I’m going to do the suicide thing. Let me explain that.

WelI, it’s really pretty simple. I’m checking out real soon. I’m getting my ducks in order. But, I’m not doing pills or using medical assistance -- other than Bud’s. I know I can leave whenever I’m ready, give or take a few days, maybe hours.

Other people can do the same. People decide to live or die all the time. You know, the will to live. There’s also the will to die. Two sides of the same coin.

Well, I could go most any time now, most any way. But, with Bud’s help and the meditation, I’ve already had tastes of the other side. I’ve seen the light and put my foot on the real terra firma. It’s indeed heavenly.

So, I’ve been getting my affairs in order, maybe like Bud did a few years ago. We’re going to get the family ready as well. They all know I’m slipping. They may not know that I’m going to pass up the phase where I could sit for months at a stop waiting for the regular bus to heaven to come by. Not me. I’m putting in for an express.

Buddy Boy came in consciously, with his eyes open. Old Nate is going out consciously, with his eyes open, too. You’re welcome to be there for the send off. It should be fun, believe it or not, on the one hand and good experience for you when your own turn comes up. See you there.



Mommy, is Grandpa going bye-bye? Will he come back and see us, sometimes? Well, Mommy, will he come back ever?

I love Grandpa Nate. He’s my best friend. I don’t want him to go even if he goes to heaven. Unless I can go with him. Do you think I could go with him?

Maybe Grandpa Nate could visit me in my dreams. Could he do that, Mommy?
Oh, I’d like that.

Some day, when I’m grown up, maybe he’ll come back. He’d be the baby and I’d be the big person. Wouldn’t that be funny?

Baby Nate. I think he’d make a funny looking baby. Don’t you, Mommy?



Things come full circle, they say. Lots of times, we don’t even notice when the circle meets itself and a cycle is completed. We don’t look at things that way in this society. Maybe we just don’t take the time.

Well, I’m taking the time. Or, I’ve just been indoctrinated since you know who showed up. Even when I try to resist him and his ideas, my boy Bud just continues on his merry way. Sooner or later, he puts his mark or impression on me. For good or ill, I’m not the only one affected that way.

Gordon Gates, affected? That sounds a little scary. I better be careful or I’ll get committed. At least I’d have someone to blame it on.

It’s obvious. The boy has gotten to me. He’s one of the family. He’s part -- a big part -- of the business. Borden is synonymous with the city. These days, as Borden goes, so goes the city.

So, the city is tuning in again as a cycle is completed in his own family. What’s happening in that group is sure to touch the whole community.

It’s like this: The cycle started nine years ago with Bud Borden’s birth. Goodness, think what’s happened. A baby talked and the city listened. Actually for a while, the whole country, maybe the world, seemed to listen.

Things settled some, but Bud continued to touch the community through his spot in the hospital, then later in the clinic and medical school. He had his day in court and made his argument for reincarnation. That made a few waves. Then, he went out and got himself smashed up by a car and made a miraculous recovery. That stopped lots of people in their tracks. The fallout on that one still hasn’t come to ground.

I could go on and on. But, you know most of the story by now. You may not have heard that Bud’s brother -- or grandpa, depending on how you figure -- Nate is nearing death’s door.

Bud and Nate have been preparing for this occasion for quite some time now, I understand. It promises to be just that -- an occasion. As always, Bud is trying to make a statement while producing something valuable in his surroundings.

Apparently, he’s trying to make it so Nate can pass on without pain or fear. Maybe I should put it differently. Nate is going out in style, with a celebration and in view of family and friends. I’m even invited.

There was talk of having the occasion televised, but that seemed a little much. We’ll do some unobtrusive video for various uses at a later date.

To the Borden bunch, it just amounts to another blip on the radar screen. They’ve gotten used to so many oddities in their lives that they hardly recognize them as they pass by.

For the community, Nate’s passing will attract lots of attention. It’ll make another wide and deep wave through the news media. I have no doubt that as we see the Borden family complete the cycle from birth to death, Nate will give us one fine final edition.



I don’t talk about my father much. Suppose most sons don’t. But, mine is really quite a guy. I value him more than words can ever say.

When he goes, there’ll be an empty spot in our lives for a long time to come. Still, I try to look on the bright side.

I know, like he’s told us, he’s had a full life. “Never been more so than over the last nine years,” he said not long ago. That’s probably true for all of us.

Dad was the usual householder, office worker, and family man for his adult years. He says his greatest triumph was marrying a wonderful woman and raising two “smart Alec” sons. But, John and I know what he meant with that backhand comment. We hadn’t done all that well at showing our love and admiration for our father, either. But we’ve both been working harder on that as we see his days in the body, as Bud says, coming to an end very shortly.

Dad had his tough time when Mom died so suddenly. But somehow, as he says, it helped to grow him up. Even at age 60 when Bud returned, he was just coming to the end of his grieving process and getting ready for his new life.

His time with Bud has been grand. He’s been in the middle of so many extraordinary things. Well, we all have. It’s like we’ve all “dreamed dreams and seen visions.” How lucky can you get?

Well, Dad was lucky enough to see it all. And, we’ve been fortunate enough to see his life turned around. He’s been made whole. Even as his body falls away, I see him grow into the light. Truth. There’s a spark in his eyes and a lightness to his being.

Grandpa leaves us with memories and promises. Memories of shared times passed by and promises of more to come. No one knows when, but we know he’ll be back. If not in the next decades, we’ll be with him again in future rounds.

Then too, he leaves us with Bud and Jean. Jean misses Grandpa already, but even with her worries and tears, I know that she knows. Part of her knows -- understands -- about the coming and going in and out of bodies.

Marian and I are just starting to talk to her about such things. It seems a little early. But, she takes it in just like everything else.

Then we have Bud. If nothing else, he’s our lightning rod. Except when he’s not. Sometimes, he’ll just say, “I wish I could help you. But this one is all yours. At least for now.”

I respect that. He always points us inside -- to God and our own personal connection -- to the Soul. That’s still pretty hazy for me, but it’s beginning to sink in. Time and our own openness brings everything to our awareness in bits and pieces.

So, we’re doing what we can to make Dad’s sendoff a celebration. That beats the other option. This is going to be one whale of a deal.

Dad decided to “make the move” on Independence Day. “I want to go when the sun is shining and I have a reasonable amount of energy. I want to enjoy my last hurrah. Besides, when I let go of the body, won’t I really be independent?”



I was on duty within minutes of Bud Borden’s birth years ago. Yesterday, I was in attendance when Grandpa Nate died. Actually, I’m not sure that “die” is quite the correct word. Maybe I should say that Nate Borden took flight. That’s more like it.

That moment was so unlike any death that I’ve witnessed. As physicians, we generally experience death as a sign of failure. It’s the sad and tragic end of the line. Patients expire either suddenly and shockingly at home or in the hospital at the end of tubes and monitors following lots of often wasteful tests and procedures. Our unfortunate charges terminate and pass on to the morgue or the funeral home. It’s all so clinical.

Not so with my friend, Nate Borden. To put things in perspective, let me say, I still consider Nate Borden, my friend. Though he’s left his body, Nate still exists as some shape, form or essence in another dimension. He hasn’t gone off to some heaven at the North Pole of the galaxy or to a hell at the opposite end.

He still lives, just without a physical human body. He now lives as a being of soul and spirit with a consciousness beyond my conception. Nonetheless, he’s living and experiencing. Along the way, he’ll be preparing for his return into a new body like he prepared to leave the last one.

I have to hand it to him and to Bud. This really may have been the Borden family’s finest hour. To the untutored eye, it would’ve been nearly impossible to recognize that Nate Borden was getting ready to die over these last few days. He hadn’t the slightest sign of illness or approaching death.

Since I knew him well, I was aware that he had lost some weight and was slowing down. He wasn’t quite as quick with his step or with his conversation. Still, he was far from appearing to have any kind of disability or disease.

Let me tell you that I participated in much of his latter activities “in the body.” I spent several hours with him and the family as they had a Fourth of July picnic, played games and sang songs. For the evening, Nate said, “Take me out to the ballgame.” That’s what we did. The game ended with glorious fireworks and some marching music provided by the Community Band.

Seemed to be a fine way for all to celebrate. The next day brought the serious stuff. The whole thing had been planned almost as if it had been a memorial service at a church. Only it was longer and the tenor was upbeat, yet with tinges of sadness and tears.

Nate made everyone promise that they wouldn’t cry until he was gone. He said, “You can cry for a half hour. Then, you have to pick yourselves up and continue the celebration.” That’s really just about what happened.

Nate’s Going Away Party, as he called it, took place at his and Bud’s home. There must’ve been thirty or more people there including the twins and Jean. Jean sat on Grandpa’s lap most of the time. The twins were well-behaved. They’d been warned about the importance of the day. Bud kept a close eye on them.

There was music and singing and stories and laughter. Bud was basically the master of ceremonies. He took charge and moved things along, when necessary. Nate had put in requests for music to be played and performed. Yeah, the BeeCees did a couple tunes. Some guitarists came and serenaded our old friend.

Intermittently, family and friends spoke about their relationship with Nate. After each one’s turn, Nate would say just a few words of thank you.

Eventually, the tone turned very serious. Everyone kissed and hugged Grandpa Nate.
He let them get away with a few tears. Marian took Jean in her arms.

Then Bud told the group that they’d have to consciously let go of Nate with their thoughts and prayers and allow him to move on. He led us all through words to that effect. Next, he situated us in various geometric lineups with Nate at the center. Candles were lighted and sandalwood incense burnt.

Eventually, he began to intone some Tibetan syllables. He took all of us into a deep trance or meditation intended to facilitate the release of Nate Borden’s soul. That moment made us all quite aware that we were much more than our bodies. Everyone was drawn to an elevated view so as to see themselves -- their own bodies and those of everyone else in the group. It was an amazing feeling. It must’ve been one of those out-of-body experiences they talk about.

Finally, we were returned to some semblance of our common consciousness. Then Bud formed us into a circle around Nate. We rhythmically walked that circle. As we did, we sounded what Bud called the Mantram of the Restoration.

All during these chants and movements, Nate sat in fixed silence and apparent deep meditation. When the circling movement and mantram concluded, we were almost in heaven.

Wherever we were, we all were quite prepared for Nate Borden’s final words for this time.



I hope you can hear me. I’m there. I’m almost there.

I see Mother. See looks so young, like I remember her when I was a kid. She’s so happy to see me. And, so proud, like she always was.

But, I can’t touch her now. She just welcomes me.

Wherever I am, the place is filled with light. It’s so peaceful and warm. It must be like the womb.

I sense a looming presence. I see it now, coming from behind Mother. It feels like a person, but looks like a huge ball of light.

The light is telling me without words, “You can come now.”

It’s giving me extra strength to speak to you and to let go. I’m supposed to say good-bye to you so I can go on. I’m not to open my eyes, so I’ll just see you in my memory.

I love you all. Be good to each other. Don’t cry. . . . I’m in good hands.

You too are in good hands. The light is with you even now. You just have to look for it. They remind me that it’s everywhere.

I must go. Good bye to you all. Good bye, Brother.



The Bordens seem to have done it again, Mr. Rich. Almost everything the Baby Doctor and his family touch appears to turn into a wave, a miracle, or a phenomenon.

This time, it’s the elder Borden who has had our attention as he took his leave of us mere mortals here. There is plenty of precedent, however, for what Grandfather Borden accomplished. Nonetheless, his departure deserves our consideration.

Leaving as he did should remind us that we all have the potential to die with a certain amount of consciousness and dignity. Would that the medical profession remember that when prescribing narcotics and sedatives for those in their latter days of life. It quite appears that the possibilities of dying with some awareness are inversely proportional to the amount of medication and professional care individuals receive in the days before they finally leave their bodies.

Nate Borden has also demonstrated for all of us to see that a person needn’t wait until he’s terminal or emaciated, vegetative or drugged to death to take his leave. The necessity for the Hemlock Society and the Kevorkian Klan has certainly been brought into question by the Borden Band.

There is a growing amount of evidence along with massive historical anecdotes to support the process of conscious dying. We know quite well of saints like Paramahansa Yogananda and others who have exited their bodies before their followers as well as thousands of common people who have died with smiles on their faces and happiness in their hearts.

Death need not be feared. The good death should soon replace the ones that are hidden in the darkness of hospital rooms after which bodies are secreted past closed doors as if to negate the seemingly unmentionable.

Much research has been done to suggest a certain amount of universality in the experiences of those who move toward death’s door with mental faculties intact. Apparitions, especially of dead relatives and religious figures, commonly show up to take the dying away. There is generally an exceeding readiness of terminal patients to pass on even when their time has not arrived. Finally, there is noted an elevation of mood and an inexplicable peacefulness in those who face death consciously. Surrounding the whole process is an all-absorbing and accepting light.

Beyond this information, we have been collecting mounting evidence that consciousness itself can be sustained quite independently of the physical body. Researchers such as Sabom, Ring, Grey and others indicate the similarities between near death and out-of-body experiences.

All in all, we are fortunately living in a time when science and sanity are moving us toward better ways to live and to die. That is my own personal opinion. The foregoing is based on research.

I might add, we are also lucky to have the Bordens in our midst at this time. They surely know how to make life interesting in between their extraordinary entries and exits.



You’re so right, Dr. Greene. Thank you for being with us at KBOB-TV and sharing your English erudition, as always.

Gordon Gates and I are here in the studio to reflect with our viewers for a few moments on the events of the day involving the Borden family as well as those of the past nine years.

We’ve seen the extraordinary, as Geoff Greene notes. We’ve been baffled and amazed as well, at times. But, Gordon, most of all, I think we’ve been inspired by the Baby Doctor and his family. “I couldn’t agree with you more, John. I must say that these last years have offered us an unequaled living education. The city has been exceedingly fortunate to experience this phenomenon we call Bud Borden, the Baby Doctor.

“Some of us have been even luckier. I’ve been in on so many aspects of the story: from reporting and publishing it to my involvement through the City Medical Center Hospital Board and my interviews with Bud Borden himself. Most happily for me, I’ve come to know the Borden family personally. I’ve even had the privilege of working side by side with the Baby Doctor and employing him at the Gazette.

“Beyond that, I’ve developed a real affection for Bud and his partner, Dr. Jim Child. I consider them both to be my boys. They call me, Pop. It’s true.

“But, these last few days have topped it all for me. They’ve been remarkable and have made an indelible impression on my life. I must tell you that my experience of the passing of Nate Borden will change the remainder of my living days. It’ll no doubt have profound effects on that day which approaches when I’ll make my own departure from this body.

“My thanks go out to Nate Borden and his family and especially to the Baby Doctor for making this day and the past decade a most happy occasion.”