After Life_ Answers From The Other Side Part 1

After Life.

ANSWERS from the from the OTHER SIDE OTHER SIDE.

by John Edward.

FOREWORD.

JOHN E EDWARD CERTAINLY IS ONE of the most extraordinary people I've ever known or interviewed. He has appeared on my show many, many times, and to say the least, provides fascinating TV. I'm a pure agnostic. That is, I don't know if there's a G.o.d or not, I don't know if there are other universes or not, and I certainly don't know if there's some sort of life after death. of the most extraordinary people I've ever known or interviewed. He has appeared on my show many, many times, and to say the least, provides fascinating TV. I'm a pure agnostic. That is, I don't know if there's a G.o.d or not, I don't know if there are other universes or not, and I certainly don't know if there's some sort of life after death.

I'll admit, John often provides insights into the departed that are not explainable. I don't know if he's seeing or hearing from the departed or if he's tuning in to the viewer's vision of the departed. I'm not even sure if there is such a thing as psychic phenomena. However, I cannot deny that John Edward often amazes.

In this, his third nonfiction book, he takes us into a further exploration of the Other Side, as he sees it. Using intimate stories from his own life, he explains how to continue relations.h.i.+ps after this tour on Earth. Another fascinating aspect is his tour of Australia. And, naturally, the book is loaded with readings, including celebrities. We also learn of John's admitted errors, and I like the idea of a summation at the end of every chapter.

Believe him or not, you will find this book a treasure of exploration into what I call the unknown and what John calls the known. Dull, it isn't. Enjoy!

- Larry King Larry King, June 2003

PREFACE.

WITH THE REISSUE OF THIS BOOK, I reflect back on many of the questions that people here on this side of the veil ask of me for their loved ones on the Other Side of the veil to answer.

One of the more prevalent issues comes up from audiences around the world is: "What happens with people who are not speaking to each another? Can we still connect with them? Do they even want to?" "What happens with people who are not speaking to each another? Can we still connect with them? Do they even want to?" I feel that the whole purpose (the reason that mediums have their ability) is to teach that life and love are eternal, and to help people find closure and healing. But let's be real here. If you are reading this, and you are interested in understanding if your loved one can communicate with you, there is usually always a thought, issue, emotion, or feeling that you want to shed more light upon. Right behind the most obvious question of, I feel that the whole purpose (the reason that mediums have their ability) is to teach that life and love are eternal, and to help people find closure and healing. But let's be real here. If you are reading this, and you are interested in understanding if your loved one can communicate with you, there is usually always a thought, issue, emotion, or feeling that you want to shed more light upon. Right behind the most obvious question of, "Are they okay?" "Are they okay?" is typically is typically "Do they know how much I love and miss them?" "Do they know how much I love and miss them?"

I just got back from a tour where I lectured and read to over five thousand people in ten cities. I can tell you that in every one of those events, there were families who didn't have the opportunity to make a bad situation better for one reason or another. For some reason, people think that they have all the time in the world to "fix" their relations.h.i.+ps and many times they don't. Wasted time and missed opportunities are things my Spirit Guides always remind me of. (Everyone has spiritual energy around them which I refer to as "guides." They help us connect to a higher level of consciousness.) On my last trip to Alaska, I was doing an event when two sisters who did not communicate for the previous ten years were reunited by what many would call chance. They both purchased tickets for my event, and when they showed up they saw each other and spoke for the first time in a decade. During the event, their father came through and was validating his continued love for his family. One of the sisters said that it was their dad who broke up their relations.h.i.+p and so it was fitting for him to reunite them.

In thinking about how cool it was to witness this reunion, and actually able to share this inspirational story with the rest of the attendees (because their dad came through), I thought how there could have been the chance that one of these sisters might have pa.s.sed and they would not have had the opportunity to make their relations.h.i.+p better. (Not that I saw this, but the thought crossed my mind after the event and I was reflecting back upon it.) I ask you to think about the people in your life that are important and meaningful to you. Think about why they are no longer there or why you have found yourself in a place of not communicating with them. If you find that you're missing them and value that connection, then take the opportunity to reach out and repair what might appear to be broken. Many times after we get past our foolish pride, or can even remember why we stopped speaking to that person in the first place, we can bridge that gap and reunite here in the physical world.

I end every event that I do in the same way. I ask people to communicate, appreciate, and validate the people in their lives so that a medium like me doesn't have to do it for them. I also try to inspire those who attend the events to try and leave the people they meet better than they found them. That is my hope for you in reading this book today.

All the best, John Edward

INTRODUCTION.

IS THERE SOMETHING AFTER DEATH? Is there eternal life, as promised by certain religions? Does love transcend physical death? Are the loved ones you miss terribly still with you? And if so, are you aware that there is something after life? after life?

As I worked on this book, I reflected on my career of nearly two decades as a psychic medium. I called this book After Life: Answers from the Other Side After Life: Answers from the Other Side, to help explain some of the lessons I've personally learned from doing this work. I initially thought that I was going to simply answer the basic questions people always ask me about this process of spirit communication. But when I sat down at my computer, it was clear that I needed and wanted to dig deeper than that and pick up where my first book, One Last Time One Last Time, left off.

In a way, this book is kind of One Last Time: Part II One Last Time: Part II. Even though I've written two books since that first one, many readers have told me that they resonated most with the tone, message, and sharing of intimate personal stories in that work-for example, where I described my formative years as a teenage psychic in blue jeans. Twenty years later, I'm still a psychic in blue jeans, and I'm still learning and growing.

This might be a good time to explain to newcomers who've picked up this book who I am and what I do. I'm a psychic medium who connects with loved ones who have crossed over to the "Other Side"-a place many people like to call "heaven" or "the hereafter." The first question everybody asks me about this process is: How does it work? Well, basically, as a medium, I have the ability to perceive the vibrations and frequencies of those who have crossed over. Through meditation and prayer-usually with the rosary because of my Catholic upbringing-I'm able to raise raise my vibration level while the energies on the Other Side my vibration level while the energies on the Other Side lower lower their vibrations in an effort to communicate with me. their vibrations in an effort to communicate with me.

As I've described many times, if you can imagine a helicopter propeller that moves so fast that we can't see the propellers themselves-that's how fast or high the vibrations of these energies on the Other Side are. In comparison, we on this side have a vibration more like a slowpoke ceiling fan on a hot, lazy day.

For a little while, as I speed up and they slow down, across the great divide between our two worlds we meet somewhere in the middle and communicate. The energies send me thoughts, feelings, and images-which I then relate back to the living. I always like to state right off the bat that I'm not 100-percent accurate when I relay these messages, but I do believe that the Other Side is always completely completely accurate when they deliver them. Whatever I see, hear, and feel (also known as clairvoyance, clairaudience, and clairsentience, respectively), I interpret using my own frame of reference to the best of my human abilities and perceptions. accurate when they deliver them. Whatever I see, hear, and feel (also known as clairvoyance, clairaudience, and clairsentience, respectively), I interpret using my own frame of reference to the best of my human abilities and perceptions.

You'll hear me describe energies coming through as being "above" (a parent, aunt/uncle, or grandparent type figure); "below" (a child); or "beside" (a contemporary-a sibling, cousin, or friend) in reference to the sitter sitter (the person I'm reading-I use the term (the person I'm reading-I use the term client client and and sitter sitter interchangeably in this book). The genesis of these descriptions comes courtesy of my mother, who had taken it upon herself one day to research our genealogy. She sent away for one of those poster-sized charts from a catalog with a big picture of a family tree and spots for everyone's names on the branches. But when she received it in the mail, she had to laugh. The poster only had five "branches" sprouting out from the parents, and my grandmother had interchangeably in this book). The genesis of these descriptions comes courtesy of my mother, who had taken it upon herself one day to research our genealogy. She sent away for one of those poster-sized charts from a catalog with a big picture of a family tree and spots for everyone's names on the branches. But when she received it in the mail, she had to laugh. The poster only had five "branches" sprouting out from the parents, and my grandmother had eleven eleven children. children.

"We don't need a family tree," my mom joked, as she tucked it away behind the hope chest at the top of the stairs. "We need a family forest!" A few years later, after my mother had pa.s.sed away, I was doing a reading for a client at my home and I was getting frustrated as to how to explain a male energy coming through. I felt that it was someone around the same age as the client, but I didn't know how else I could describe it. Then I looked across the room and saw a branch of that old, unused family tree sticking out from behind the chest, and the whole concept jumped out at me. I quickly said to the sitter, "To the side . . . like a brother/cousin relations.h.i.+p," and the woman knew who it was immediately. After the reading, I pulled out that chart and chuckled. From that day on, I started to receive my information like the branches of a family tree that stretch out above, below, and to the side.

During a reading, I rarely ask questions of the living to elicit information, which is the common argument presented by skeptics trying to explain how psychics "pull off" their so-called tricks. Instead, I give give the information I'm getting and ask for validation. If a medium is constantly asking questions during a session, I call that "lazy mediums.h.i.+p." There really is a big difference between the two ways a medium can deliver the same message, which go something like this: the information I'm getting and ask for validation. If a medium is constantly asking questions during a session, I call that "lazy mediums.h.i.+p." There really is a big difference between the two ways a medium can deliver the same message, which go something like this: 1st way: "Has your father pa.s.sed?" (lazy medium) 2nd way: "I'm getting that your father has pa.s.sed. Is that true?" (non-lazy medium)

Both mediums are receiving the same information that Dad is on the Other Side, but one sounds like he's fis.h.i.+ng for the info while the other is stating it more as fact. When a psychic uses the lazy approach, the cynics have a field day. It gives them ammunition to jump up and yell, "See! He's getting the information from the client!" and it makes a case for refuting the validity of this work. It drives me nuts when I see a psychic who has genuine ability take the lazy route. But even I'm guilty of getting "lazy" sometimes, although I strive not to. When I catch myself giving information in question form, I give myself a nudge. I try to state the information I'm shown exactly as I see it without questions or too much editing. If a client is unable to confirm the information, I ask him or her to write it down, because one of three things is happening: (1) I misinterpreted the information I was given; (2) the sitter doesn't remember or know the information; or (3) sometimes the information I was given hasn't happened yet.

One typical example of a misinterpretation occurred while I was reading for a group, and an older male came through showing me a gun, a New York City yellow taxicab, and a younger male. I stood in front of the group insisting that someone there knew an individual who had been murdered by gunshot in a cab-that was my interpretation of what I was seeing. No one acknowledged this, but the images were clear and unrelenting.

After much frustration on my part, I finally gave the message to the group minus my angle on it: "I'm seeing a gun, a young man, and a cab. Do all these things together mean anything to anyone?" It wasn't long before someone validated that their father-in-law was coming through about his son who was shot while in the front part of a large truck-the "cab" area of the truck. I had confused both the group and myself because, first, I a.s.sumed the younger male had died from the gunshot, which he hadn't. Second, I had no idea that the front part of a truck was called the "cab," and I just figured that the gun went off in a taxi. If I hadn't relayed the information exactly as delivered, it might never have been validated.

After honing my skills doing private readings and seminars for many years, my name became highly recognizable as the host of the show Crossing Over with John Edward Crossing Over with John Edward, where I conduct random readings for a gallery group in a studio. I wrote extensively about my television experiences in Crossing Over: The Stories Behind the Stories Crossing Over: The Stories Behind the Stories, so I won't go into detail here reiterating the behind-the-scenes scoop. Instead, for this book, I want to respond to all the letters I've received over the last few years and give you more of what you've asked for: personal and professional stories related to my interactions with the Other Side.

I BEGAN MY CAREER AS A MEDIUM BEGAN MY CAREER AS A MEDIUM after a reading with another psychic, Lydia Clar, when I was fifteen years old. She'd been invited to my grandmother's home for a "psychic party," and I decided that I was going to show my very gullible family that they were being bilked by this con artist. Well, the opposite happened: I found Lydia's abilities amazing, and she changed my perspective about the world of psychic phenomena in just one session. It was at that meeting when she told me I had psychic ability and would one day be internationally known for it. I'll be turning thirty-four soon, and I feel that I've fulfilled Lydia's premonition of my destiny. after a reading with another psychic, Lydia Clar, when I was fifteen years old. She'd been invited to my grandmother's home for a "psychic party," and I decided that I was going to show my very gullible family that they were being bilked by this con artist. Well, the opposite happened: I found Lydia's abilities amazing, and she changed my perspective about the world of psychic phenomena in just one session. It was at that meeting when she told me I had psychic ability and would one day be internationally known for it. I'll be turning thirty-four soon, and I feel that I've fulfilled Lydia's premonition of my destiny.

People always ask me what I get out of doing this work. What's in it for me? What's in it for me? Well, the answer to that has changed over the years. I started off as a general psychic and was "wowed" by the fact that I could predict a person's future. Then, after two close members of my family pa.s.sed on, the focus of my work s.h.i.+fted to mediums.h.i.+p and talking to the Other Side. Well, the answer to that has changed over the years. I started off as a general psychic and was "wowed" by the fact that I could predict a person's future. Then, after two close members of my family pa.s.sed on, the focus of my work s.h.i.+fted to mediums.h.i.+p and talking to the Other Side.

Often, it's the death of someone close that motivates a person to explore this subject. I'd guess that many of you readers have suffered a personal loss that inspired you to pick up this book. It was the same for me regarding my own personal development as a psychic. After the death of my uncle and my mother within two years, I needed to know they were fine and still around me. By doing readings and connecting strangers with their own loved ones, I was indirectly healing and finding closure for myself. Each time I showed someone that their mother or child was still with them, it validated for me that my family was still a part of my my life as well. In sharing the experiences with the people who have graciously allowed me to tell their stories in this book, I hope that you, too, will find healing and closure and apply what I've learned from the Other Side to your own lives. life as well. In sharing the experiences with the people who have graciously allowed me to tell their stories in this book, I hope that you, too, will find healing and closure and apply what I've learned from the Other Side to your own lives.

EVERY TIME I START TO WRITE a new book, I feel that my readers and I are like characters in a new book, I feel that my readers and I are like characters in The Wizard of Oz The Wizard of Oz, traveling down that yellow brick road in search of the Emerald City and the truths behind the curtain. And at the end of our journey, we discover that life and love are eternal. And they always were . . . we just couldn't see it before.

Now . . . come with me as we follow the yellow brick road all the way to Vegas. . . .

CHAPTER 1.

LIVING ON THIS SIDE.

LAS VEGAS, JANUARY 2002.

IN LAS VEGAS YOU DON'T HAVE to be a medium to see dead people. Just take an early-morning walk through any casino and you can't help but see them at every turn. You know the type-the ones with the zombie stares and hypnotic arm lifts, dropping coins all night hoping to hit "The Big One." to be a medium to see dead people. Just take an early-morning walk through any casino and you can't help but see them at every turn. You know the type-the ones with the zombie stares and hypnotic arm lifts, dropping coins all night hoping to hit "The Big One."

Now, you might be saying, wait a minute . . . casino? . . . psychic? . . . kaaaa-chinggggg! kaaaa-chinggggg! It's funny to watch those serious-looking men in suits, the ones casinos pay to keep an eye out for crooked gamblers, when they recognize me at the tables. As soon as they spot me, they're watching me like hawks, trailing me from table to table, making sure I'm not using my abilities-like they're expecting me to start communing with the Other Side to find out which number is going to come up on the roulette wheel. It's funny to watch those serious-looking men in suits, the ones casinos pay to keep an eye out for crooked gamblers, when they recognize me at the tables. As soon as they spot me, they're watching me like hawks, trailing me from table to table, making sure I'm not using my abilities-like they're expecting me to start communing with the Other Side to find out which number is going to come up on the roulette wheel.

Well, I'm sorry to report that, at least for this psychic, being in touch with the spirit world doesn't guarantee a jackpot. And G.o.d knows I've tried-in casinos from the Caribbean to California. A long time ago, "The Boys" (the nickname I've given to my own personal spirit guides) taught me an expensive lesson-trying to cash in on my abilities will cost me big time. I remember standing in front of a roulette table many years ago getting an unmistakable vision of the number 18 in my mind-a "sure thing." I bet ten bucks on lucky number 18 and . . . lost. I bet another ten and lost again. Then another. Ten minutes and 300 bucks later, still no 18. I pulled myself away from the table and gave myself a scolding: You know this doesn't work for you! Give it up! You know this doesn't work for you! Give it up! But as I wandered away, I noticed everyone surrounding the table pointing and staring at me. As soon as I'd stopped betting, the roulette wheel hit 18 . . . once, twice, three times . . . six times in a row! Well, at least someone made a few bucks. So do yourself a favor . . . if you're standing next to me at a c.r.a.ps table sometime, don't put your money where my chips are. But as I wandered away, I noticed everyone surrounding the table pointing and staring at me. As soon as I'd stopped betting, the roulette wheel hit 18 . . . once, twice, three times . . . six times in a row! Well, at least someone made a few bucks. So do yourself a favor . . . if you're standing next to me at a c.r.a.ps table sometime, don't put your money where my chips are.

But on this particular Vegas trip, I wasn't in a betting mood. I was here to work and conduct a seminar, answering questions and conducting readings for a large audience. I didn't have any sleight-of-hand tricks or a crystal ball, and I certainly can't read minds-even though that's all the cynics seem to think I'm good at. They're convinced that there's a sucker born every minute and psychics carry a bag of parlor tricks just waiting to con them. The cynics have plenty of ways to describe the methods they claim we use to fool people. They use terms like "cold reading" and "painting a bulls-eye around a lucky guess." They think we read body language, picking up facial clues or listening for voice clues. They've accused me of hiding microphones in audiences and using private detectives. I'm surprised that none of them have claimed I bug people's bedrooms to get intimate information. I haven't been accused of that one yet, but just give those cynics time!

As a medium, I've always made it a point to never try to convert anyone to my beliefs or convince anyone of my abilities. In fact, the exact opposite is true. I encourage people to be skeptical and question this process, but with an open and objective mind.

I received a letter last year from one woman who embarked on a year-long mission to expose me as a fraud. Marcia Secaur, a vice president at a major securities firm in Cincinnati, Ohio, had attended one of my seminars with a bunch of her friends on a lark. She didn't believe in mediums and came prepared to, at the very most, have a good laugh. Instead, she ended up being shocked.

She recalled, "In a roomful of two hundred people, you walked right up to a woman at the back of the room and told her she had a family member coming through who was run over by a train. And you were right."

Marcia left the seminar determined to figure out how I was tricking everybody. As someone who worked with facts, it was in her meticulous, diligent nature to get to the root of the matter-to reach the bottom line.

So she began researching the topic of mediums.h.i.+p-reading articles and speaking with "professional" cynics who taught her the "tricks of the trade." Then, with notebook in hand, she dissected episode after episode of Crossing Over Crossing Over to spot my con. to spot my con.

"I tried to take the show apart," said Marcia. "I spent a week on my couch with all my information about cold readings in front of me, and I tried to make it stick." When it didn't, she decided she had to inspect me in person. Marcia attended four seminars in a span of a few months to catch me in the act of faking it. But once again, she couldn't. So her last resort was to decide I was using a staff of detectives to dig up information about people before I read them.

"The problem with that theory," said Marcia, "was that with all the people you've worked with over the years, I couldn't believe there'd be such a vast conspiracy of silence out there that not one person would have come forward to expose."

Defeated, but not disappointed, Marcia told me that by the end of her quest, she'd become more distrustful of the cynics than of me. "It's actually the Leon Jaroffs, James Randis, and Michael Shermers of the world that frighten me," she wrote. "These are people who want to take away the comfort and peace you have given to so many people and glibly treat what you do as though it were the punch line in a bad stand-up routine. That is not practicing skepticism, it's being cruel and close minded. Discrediting you and undermining the experiences you have brought people seems more a form of entertainment for them than any n.o.ble endeavor. To attack a person's fundamental beliefs about life and death is the kind of thing wars have been fought about for centuries. Perhaps that's why your guides say you will have the role of warrior in regard to your field."

Warrior or not, it's not my job to change people's minds, and it's not my business to prove that what I say is true. I'll never defend what I believe in or what I do. If I did, I'd be admitting that there's something to defend-and there simply isn't.

My role is to be a bridge between our world (the physical) and the spirit world (the nonphysical), and to deliver messages from the Other Side to the living. But often that's easier said than done. There are times when I receive, interpret, and pa.s.s on a message to the person I'm reading and the information is easily validated. But there are also times when I get something and the person I'm reading doesn't understand the information right away.

Or, in some cases, the message might not even be intended for the person I'm talking to-but for another relative, a friend, or acquaintance who isn't present during the session. This type of message might not get validated immediately, and in some cases it might take weeks or even months for the validation to occur. I call those validations "Aha!" moments, a phrase I coined many years ago because I saw this delayed validation scenario happen so often. I can't count how many times I've pa.s.sed on information to a sitter that they didn't understand, only to get a phone call the next day saying something like, "I just checked with my mom, and I didn't know this, but she did did have an Aunt Gertrude who died in a plane crash over the Amazon. . . ." Or even, "Oh, that 'Thomas' you kept mentioning? It didn't hit me that you could mean my have an Aunt Gertrude who died in a plane crash over the Amazon. . . ." Or even, "Oh, that 'Thomas' you kept mentioning? It didn't hit me that you could mean my brother brother Tom . . ." Tom . . ."

This is what is also known as "psychic amnesia," another phrase I coined that means the complete and sudden deterioration of your memory when a medium is talking to you. You forget how and when your relatives pa.s.sed, you forget their names, your own name . . . I've seen it happen time and time again.

Sometimes the person the message is for just isn't paying attention-even if that person happens to be a seasoned psychic medium like yours truly. . . .

IT HAPPENED IN V VEGAS on an unusually crisp January afternoon. More than 2,000 people had turned up at the banquet hall at the MGM Grand Hotel hoping to get messages from their loved ones who had crossed over. Many of them on an unusually crisp January afternoon. More than 2,000 people had turned up at the banquet hall at the MGM Grand Hotel hoping to get messages from their loved ones who had crossed over. Many of them did did get messages, but the one that came through strongest was the one I received myself-and it would change my life forever. It was an earth-shattering "Aha!" moment of my own and, just like I've seen it happen to others, it took me weeks to figure out. get messages, but the one that came through strongest was the one I received myself-and it would change my life forever. It was an earth-shattering "Aha!" moment of my own and, just like I've seen it happen to others, it took me weeks to figure out.

I walked onto that Vegas stage and, despite the huge crowd, felt right at home. There were a few familiar faces in this audience who had known me since I was a kid and had come to see "little Johnny" all grown up. One of them was my good friend and fellow psychic, Virginia, who came to cheer me on. Try to picture Judge Judy as a psychic and you've got Virginia: a real no-nonsense type. I also spotted my Uncle Carmine's sister, Loretta, and her family and friends. (For those of you who read One Last Time One Last Time, you might remember that I talked about Uncle Carmine and the premonition I had about his very young pa.s.sing from a heart attack.) The air was charged with the usual electricity that often fills a room just before I do a group reading. Everyone is excited and nervous, wondering, Will someone come through for me? Who will it be? What will they tell me? Will someone come through for me? Who will it be? What will they tell me?

But whether it's Vegas or Vermont, readings are always a gamble, a c.r.a.pshoot. Sometimes I feel as if those who attend an event are like players in a poker game, laying down those hard-earned chips and praying they'll get the right card. Hopefully, they walk away without being too disappointed if it wasn't their lucky night.

But I like to think that everyone comes away a winner.

I often explain that a group reading is like a birthday party. Imagine that you're a kid and it's your birthday-there's a cake in front of you loaded down with glowing candles and your name across the top in big, loopy letters. But just because it's your your party and those are party and those are your your candles marking candles marking your your special day, it doesn't mean this is a private celebration. Every person at the party will get a slice of your cake and come away with a goodie bag. The same holds true with a reading for a large group of people. If the seminar is a party and the reading is the cake-even if the cake isn't specifically yours with your name on it, but is intended for another person or family, you still get a slice of it just by being at the party. Because you're listening and taking part, the reading is just as much for you (conceptually) as it is for the other person. So you go home with the goodie bag-the knowledge that life and love are eternal. special day, it doesn't mean this is a private celebration. Every person at the party will get a slice of your cake and come away with a goodie bag. The same holds true with a reading for a large group of people. If the seminar is a party and the reading is the cake-even if the cake isn't specifically yours with your name on it, but is intended for another person or family, you still get a slice of it just by being at the party. Because you're listening and taking part, the reading is just as much for you (conceptually) as it is for the other person. So you go home with the goodie bag-the knowledge that life and love are eternal.

That night in Vegas, I was about to get an amusing lesson in birthday-party etiquette from the Other Side. I knew that I had a big cake to divvy up, but I had no clue that it had my name on it.

The trip had already started off on a strange note. You see, my wife, Sandra, decided to accompany me. Not that that's a bad thing, but she usually doesn't want to come on these tours. When I'm on the road, I'm usually booked to appear in several cities in a very short time period. It's always a hectic schedule, so there isn't much time to do anything except rush to the airport, hop on a plane, check in to a hotel, and then do the seminars. There might be time for a quick bite afterwards and maybe a fast workout if I'm lucky, then a few hours sleep and up early to do it all over again.

It can go on like that for days, so I usually discourage Sandra from coming along because, quite honestly, when she's there I can get a little distracted-worrying if she's bored and trying to make sure she's having a good time. But this time, she wanted to be there . . . and I don't believe anything is ever a coincidence. The Other Side had a message for both of us.

HOLLYWOOD AND WHINE.

SANDRA AND I I DECIDED TO SPEND DECIDED TO SPEND a couple of days in L.A. to squeeze in a mini-vacation before my hectic work schedule kicked in. We planned to meet with a few friends and do a little sightseeing, shopping, and "stargazing." On one of the nights we were there, the Golden Globe Awards happened to be taking place, and we were invited to go to one of the after-parties. Now, I usually don't like to attend these "Hollywood" things because of all the fuss that goes along with it, but I must admit that I'm as excited as the next fan to meet the celebrities I admire. a couple of days in L.A. to squeeze in a mini-vacation before my hectic work schedule kicked in. We planned to meet with a few friends and do a little sightseeing, shopping, and "stargazing." On one of the nights we were there, the Golden Globe Awards happened to be taking place, and we were invited to go to one of the after-parties. Now, I usually don't like to attend these "Hollywood" things because of all the fuss that goes along with it, but I must admit that I'm as excited as the next fan to meet the celebrities I admire.

I remember a few years ago when I caught sight of my favorite singer, Linda Eder, on 6th Avenue through the gla.s.s of the restaurant where I was having lunch. Next thing I knew, I was racing through the crowded street and pus.h.i.+ng aside pedestrians like a quarterback running for the end zone. I caught up to her on the sidewalk and babbled something charming and intelligent like, "OhMyG.o.d AreYouLindaEder?" and told her that I'd been her biggest fan since her early days on Star Search Star Search. I handed her my card, which read "John Edward-Psychic Medium" and asked her if she could include my name on any mailing list she might have for upcoming concerts. She looked at my card, then back at me, perplexed.

"Um . . . or if you're ever interested in speaking with any of your dead loved ones," I added, "please give me a call!" (Note: She never did. Then two years later I attended her concert at the PNC Arts Center in New Jersey and had the chance to go backstage afterward. In a room crammed full of people, I was trying to hang back . . . hoping Linda wouldn't recognize me as the weirdo who'd chased her down 6th Avenue. But when Linda's publicist ushered me forward to introduce me, Linda said I looked familiar. "Oh, he's that stalker fan stalker fan you met on the street a few years ago!" Sandra chimed in.) you met on the street a few years ago!" Sandra chimed in.) So I'm not immune to the lure of stargazing once in a while, and this Golden Globes party would definitely be wall-to-wall stars. So what would keep me from a star-studded event like this? Three words: the press line. See, I don't consider myself a celebrity. Yeah, I'm on TV and people recognize me at the supermarket and at the mall. But the truth is, I don't do what I do to gain fame. I do it to help people. It's an ability I've been given, and I want to share it with as many people as I can. Being on television and touring the country doing seminars allows me to do that. But I'm just not a Hollywood type of guy, and photographers snapping my picture and reporters sticking microphones in my face just unnerves me.

No offense to any reporters reading this-you're just doing your job. It's not you, it's me. I have no problem getting up in front of thousands of strangers and bringing through loved ones from the Other Side . . . energies who often send me very intimate and potentially embarra.s.sing messages. I pa.s.s the juicy details along for all the world to hear without much wavering. If you want to talk to me about my work, I'm fine. But put me in front of a TV camera to talk about myself and I become a ball of nerves . . . because then it's about me the person person and not me the medium. and not me the medium.

When it comes right down to it, I'm really a shy guy who has purposely stayed in the background most of my life. Anyone who knew me growing up can attest to the fact that I never wanted to be "known" or "famous"-quite the contrary. I never liked being in the forefront of anything, whether it was in school or on the job. My biggest dream as an adolescent was to own my own deli. After that, it was to be behind the scenes in the health-care field. To this day, I'm just a few credits short of my master's degree in health-care administration. (As parents say, "It's something to fall back on.") So for me, to be thrust in front of the spotlight has had its uncomfortable moments.

Okay, okay . . . I know what you're thinking (and not because I'm psychic). Poor John. He has his own TV show, chitty-chats with Larry King on CNN, and gets invited to stroll down the red carpet into star-studded parties . . . and all he can do is complain?! Poor John. He has his own TV show, chitty-chats with Larry King on CNN, and gets invited to stroll down the red carpet into star-studded parties . . . and all he can do is complain?! Believe me, the person playing the air-violin the loudest is my lovely wife, Sandra, who enjoys attending these glittery affairs. So when we landed in L.A. with invites to the Golden Globes party in our suitcase, Sandra was raring to go, and she wasn't about to hear me whine about having to walk past a few eager shutterbugs to get there. That's why what happened next seemed all the more strange. Believe me, the person playing the air-violin the loudest is my lovely wife, Sandra, who enjoys attending these glittery affairs. So when we landed in L.A. with invites to the Golden Globes party in our suitcase, Sandra was raring to go, and she wasn't about to hear me whine about having to walk past a few eager shutterbugs to get there. That's why what happened next seemed all the more strange.

As I mentioned, Sandra was excited about the party, so she went out and bought a new outfit and could talk about nothing else during the entire trip out to L.A. The night of the party, she spent hours getting ready, but I have to admit, it was all worth it. She looked incredible-glowing, in fact. She was wearing a strapless evening gown and these s.e.xy shoes that tied up around her ankles.

We headed off to the party with Sandra antic.i.p.ating the celebrities we were likely to see. Now most people would have hired a limo-or at least a driver in a town car-to take them to the event. But this would have attracted too much attention for my taste. Instead, I rented a car so we could pull up to the side and slip in to the party unnoticed. When I turned onto Santa Monica Boulevard and got close to the famous Trader Vic's restaurant, where the party was being held, it looked like a paparazzi convention. I looked at Sandra, said "No way," and kept driving.

Five long L.A. blocks later, I found a parking spot, which meant that Sandra had to walk a half mile in those new, skinny heels. She didn't say much-but I knew that she wasn't a happy camper. By the third block, she'd decided to break her silence and let me know exactly what she thought about my parking plan . . . let's just say she wasn't entirely pleased. She was feeling tired, her feet were killing her, and we had to stop half a dozen times so she could hike up her gown and retie those shoes.

When we got to Trader Vic's, I guided Sandra toward a side entrance, sneaking past the media mob, where we b.u.mped into a tall, stone-faced security guard who asked to see our pa.s.ses.

"Security pa.s.ses?" I asked.

Right. I knew exactly where they were. They were sitting on the end table back at the hotel.

"Ah . . . go ahead, I know who you are," the security guard said, and waved us in with a smile of recognition. "What's the matter? Didn't anyone up there remind you to bring them?" Heh, heh. Phew . . . thanks to my "celebrity" status, we were quickly moving down an empty hallway headed straight to the party. If we were turned away from the door because I forgot those security pa.s.ses, Sandra would have never let me hear the end of it. She was still miffed about our hike from the car, but once we got to the party she forgot all about it. There were stars from our favorite TV shows and movies everywhere we looked-Benjamin Bratt, Andie MacDowell, Maggie Smith, Josh Hartnett. I was glad we'd come and was anxious to start mingling.

We'd been there just under an hour when Sandra-AKA Miss Party Animal-turned to me and said she was tired and wanted to leave.

"But . . . but . . . Will and Grace are over there, two feet from us . . . and you want to leave?" I protested.

"If we don't leave this minute," she said, "I'm gonna crawl over there, curl up on Will and Grace's laps, and go to sleep. . . . "

I'd never known Sandra to want to cut out of a good party-let alone one set in a galaxy of stars. But as soon as we were back in the room, she hit the sack and was out like a light. I figured that the traveling and the time difference had really knocked her out.

IS THERE A PSYCHIC IN THE HOUSE?.

THE NEXT DAY WE WERE OFF TO V VEGAS and back to work. Sandra kept busy at the seminar handling one of the microphones, running up and down the aisles and squeezing between the rows of people in the audience, making sure everyone could hear each other during the Q&A period and the readings. The validations were coming through nice and easy until one of the last readings of the day when I was pulled to the back of the hall. When I say "pulled," I don't mean someone-living or dead-was physically grabbing ahold of me and dragging me. It's not a physical pull; it's an and back to work. Sandra kept busy at the seminar handling one of the microphones, running up and down the aisles and squeezing between the rows of people in the audience, making sure everyone could hear each other during the Q&A period and the readings. The validations were coming through nice and easy until one of the last readings of the day when I was pulled to the back of the hall. When I say "pulled," I don't mean someone-living or dead-was physically grabbing ahold of me and dragging me. It's not a physical pull; it's an energy energy pull. I feel like I'm being tethered by an invisible line of energy from my sternum leading directly to where the message must be delivered. Whether I'm reading a group of twelve or twelve thousand, it's the same feeling. pull. I feel like I'm being tethered by an invisible line of energy from my sternum leading directly to where the message must be delivered. Whether I'm reading a group of twelve or twelve thousand, it's the same feeling.

On the television show Sat.u.r.day Night Live Sat.u.r.day Night Live, comedian Will Ferrell does a really funny parody of me being "pulled" all over the place, kind of like a frenetic cross between Jim Carrey and Gumby. I'm the first one to laugh at it-and myself-folks. The other thing people like to kid me about is how during a reading I can turn into a pit bull. I'll sink my teeth into a bit of information coming through and not let it go until someone validates it. And if the person can't validate it after much persistence on my part, I make them write it down to check later, hopefully for an "Aha!" moment to come.

So on this night, I was pulled toward the back of the room. I sensed a female energy coming through "from above," like a grandmother, and had a strong feeling there was a young woman in that section who had recently lost her grandma . . . or at least, there was someone sitting there who was connected connected to a young woman who just lost her grandmother. When no one put up their hand, I explained to the audience that this girl didn't have to be in the room, but could just be linked to a person who was present. I told them that if anyone had a relative, friend, or co-worker who was not with them today and their grandmother had pa.s.sed within the last few weeks, they should please put up their hand. Sandra, who was standing in the back of the hall, looked around, ready to take the microphone to the person who could acknowledge this message. to a young woman who just lost her grandmother. When no one put up their hand, I explained to the audience that this girl didn't have to be in the room, but could just be linked to a person who was present. I told them that if anyone had a relative, friend, or co-worker who was not with them today and their grandmother had pa.s.sed within the last few weeks, they should please put up their hand. Sandra, who was standing in the back of the hall, looked around, ready to take the microphone to the person who could acknowledge this message.

Nada.

The next message came through loud and clear. Somehow connected to this girl with the deceased grandmother was another girl in the room who was pregnant.