I apologize for these irregular updates and my inability to participate in the rousing discussions going on in the comments section, but between the calendars shipping and all-day meetings at work, I’m posting whenever I get a free moment.
Here’s the first snippet from Sylvia Browne’s September 14 2006 show in Boston. When I post these, they won’t necessarily be in chronological order; it’s more determined by what I was able to pull from the recording (which is indecipherable at times) and what I found interesting. My comments in italics.
WOMAN, APPROXIMATELY 45 YEARS OLD: Hi, I lost my husband almost two years ago on the 21st of September and …
SYLVIA: (interrupting) Why is he holding his head? (This is a great opening tactic. “Holding his head” could refer to the way he died, such as by an embolism. Sylvia sees a woman who looks too young to be a widower, implying her husband died at a fairly early age. Head trauma might be a quick and easy hit – perhaps a car accident would fit. Or, “holding his head” could easily mean he suffered from headaches, migraines perhaps. Hell, maybe he was macrocephalic and had to carry around his oversized cranium and Sylvia scores the hit of the century. Let’s keep watching and find out!)
W: I don’t know . . . (Whoops!)
S: I dunno either, ’cause he’s holding his head. (Stick with it, maybe the mark will think of something. Remember, these people are here because they paid money to be here. They want Sylvia to succeed and nine times out of ten, they’ll bail her out when they can.)
W: …maybe he’s confused (nervous laughter)… (she’s giving Sylvia a small out here, which is the best she can do for her.)
S: No he’s not confused because he’s made it. (I think she means to heaven. Sylvia refuses the out — it’s a pretty obvious one. If she jumped on every shaky out like that, she’d look even worse than she does. She’s going to take a small gamble and try to turn this into a better hit.)
W: Okay, um, what I’d like him to ask me (she moves on to get past the missed head bit) …what i’d like him to answer for me is my children have asked me to ask where he was when he had a conversation with them, about the birds and the bees. To prove he has actually made it here.
(Audience laughs, Sylvia pauses — very noticeable since she keeps a rapid-fire pace. It must happen every now and again, but it’s very rarely that someone must offer her a bit of a challenge.)
S: Don’t you love (she encourages the audience to laugh, keeping this as a frivolous request as opposed to a test that might catch her out. When she speaks again she is back to rapid-fire delivery, with confidence.) . . . one was in the bedroom and one was outside. (Locations kept vague for a reason.)
W: (confused) One was in the bedroom? And one was outside? And he had two conversations with them? (This question indicates Sylvia got it wrong — there was only one talk, with both of them.) Where outside? (Sounds like outside may have been a hit, or at least something close, hence the probing. Often psychics can find many answers in the questions they are asked.)
S: (harshly) I don’t know, he said outside, honey. (Blame the ghost for vagueness. Nice.)
W: He can’t give you anymore . . .
S: (harshly, again) He said there was a tree, and he was talking to them. (Sylvia’s impatient tone makes it clear that the woman is annoying her with petty and easy questions. More interesting is what Sylvia says here. Before she implied there were separate talks for each child, but she realized “outside” was closer to a hit than the bedroom, which just left the woman confused. Now she changes to say that the father was speaking to “them” outside, implying that was the one conversation. It’s subtle but effective — there’s a very good chance the woman will forget the bedroom miss and remember the outdoor. Also note the only added detail — a tree. A tree, outside? Amazing!)
W: A tree, and he was talking to them?
W: Okay (begins to walk away)
S: Yes. (Decides to go for it one more time to salvage this disaster reading.) I’m telling you something was wrong with his head, because he keeps showing me his head, how did he die?
W: He had cancer. (Brain cancer?) He had, um, colon cancer. (Whoops! Could that be any further from the head? Foot cancer may have been worse, but not by much.)
S: (nodding, as though this is exactly in line with what she’s been saying.) And he said it went everywhere. (This tends to happen with cancer.)
W: (sadly) It did, it did, yeah . . . (note that she doesn’t say it spread to his head.)
S: Well apparently this is what bothered him the most. (Yeah, I’m sure the cancer in his COLON wasn’t much of a bother.)
W: Well it must have been at the very end when he
couldn’t see was speechless (sorry, I misheard the first time) . . . (So she goes with it. Otherwise she has to make a very painful edit to her worldview while standing in front of an audience of hundreds of people.)
S: Yes. (To next person in line:) Yes . . .
Here’s the audio (finally).