Here is Laurie's essay that was accepted into The BICS-Bigelow Institute for Consciousness Study.


BEST EVIDENCE BY 
          LAURIE CAMPBELL 


What is the best available evidence for the Survival of Human Consciousness after Permanent Body Death? 


My name is Laurie Campbell. I have been a professional psychic medium for over twenty years. I’ve been tested in university laboratories for twenty years. The results of my work appear in published reports in scientific journals and mainstream books and television programs. I read murder cases on the Discovery Network for the program “Sensing Murder.” I work with law enforcement and agencies looking for people. I have a private practice reading clients whose loved ones have died. I do these readings for people all over the world, every day. What I do and how I live and work is, essentially, the best available evidence for the survival of human consciousness after permanent bodily death! I get information that is verified in many ways, all the time. 

As I’ve worked in these different areas, academia, laboratory settings, law enforcement, media and private practice, I’ll try to shed some light on all of it by sharing my experiences. There are probably hundreds of good psychics and mediums who will send their stories to this foundation who asked the question about what is the best evidence for survival of consciousness after bodily death. I genuinely feel badly because of a central quandary in this work. I am somebody who has checked all the boxes, done all these things. Are my high scores in the lab the best evidence for the survival of bodily death? According to researchers, that’s the evidence. But every day I do quiet, private readings for a grieving person who wants to connect with their person who died. Each time, someone says, “That’s exactly what he would say!” or validates a piece of evidence that seems crazy to me. Once I was speaking to a friend whose mother was dying. The whole family spent the week in the house as she was in bed. The night before she passed, the siblings, who had not spent a week together in years, all found each person had some form of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. One brother counted minutes and went crazy if someone was five minutes late. One was obsessed with cleaning house. They were making dinner and it turned out that the youngest brother had a thing about proper table settings and at home insisted on always using a crystal butter dish and marble cheese board. He literally broke into a sweat around wrapped butter pats. 

So I was talking to my friend at midnight about her mother dying and I described her aunts, uncles, grandparents, all apparently dead on accurate. In the middle of it I was irritated by what felt like a nutty interruption I thought was caused by my mind wandering. “I just thought of a crystal butter dish and a marble cheese board….” My friend started crying when I said it and I was thinking, “Huh?” until she explained. 

Is something like that the best evidence? That’s the little passing evidence I get every day that hits people like a ton of bricks and makes them know someone is out there that they love. You tell me. 



WHY AM I PSYCHIC? 

There was a well-known and respected English parapsychologist, Montague Keen, who I had the pleasure of meeting and reading for at a university where I was the director of a program studying mediumship. He had a good sense of humor, which helped. I was very nervous when asked to read him because I admired him so much. I wanted to get the most extraordinary information when faced with Monty. I concentrated and what kept coming into my mind made me think, “This is crazy!” I finally had to tell him, “I’m reading for one of England’s best-known researchers in this field and all I keep getting is…tomatoes!” He laughed and said, “Well, that’s perfect because I just finished writing a long article for a horticultural magazine on growing tomatoes!” 

Right away, this gets us into the central problem of doing psychic readings. It’s the conflict between your logical brain and your intuitive brain. I read once a beautiful quote that summed it all up. “My intuition is the spear that flies through the forest and lands on my target. My logical brain is the machete that slowly follows, hacking it’s way through the brush.” 

That’s it, basically. We can stop right there if you want to ask me what everyone does, “What makes you a good psychic and how can I be more psychic?” 

To me, it is simple but it took years of learning to just tune in and listen, to meditate quietly and let the brain be receptive. To trust what I get and go with it. And to not tear it apart thinking. Because if you want to crash what you’re getting as it comes in, that will do it! 

Two of the most famous psychic researchers, Russell Targ and Hal Puthoff, ran programs testing psychics and developing methodologies to use their talents for intelligence work for many years out of the Stanford Research Institute in California. They wrote about the conflict between these two parts of the brain and how this can interfere with psychic receptivity. If you get a piece of psychic information…an image, a phrase, a feeling that you just know not to walk over that pathway, thinking you hear or see some instruction…well, when that happens to me, I try to quickly take it in and go to the next step of whatever I am receiving. Targ and Puthoff wrote about how our logical brain wants to override that process. “What is this? This is crazy. I don’t know what that means. This doesn’t make any sense. I’ll bet that image means this_______.” They call this “naming and guessing.” I’ll tell you the whole secret right here. If you can stop doing that, stop thinking, stop analyzing, just go with it…. they are there. Spirit guides, people who have passed on, energy…I’m not too fussy about what you call them. I know there is survival of bodily death and that we do go on. Every day I hear from people, hear their voices, get information, get feelings, see images…. It’s part of my daily activity. 



LABORATORY WORK, EXPERIMENTS, “STUDYING PSYCHICS” 

In 2002, Montague Keene wrote, “Researchers have …attired themselves in the dress of the embattled establishment…. with a stream of reports from institutions conducting repetitive, worthy, although essentially boring experiments which have produced astronomically high levels against chance explanation”. 

They are boring, lab experiments, for the most part. Still, in my early years of working as a medium, I thought it would help sharpen my abilities, be the psychic version of going to the gym to work out. 

I shared my desire to be involved with psychic lab testing to a close friend. Soon after, my friend saw Dr. Pat Kubis, author of Conversations Beyond the Light: Communication with Departed Friends & Colleagues by Electronic Means on a television program and mentioned Kubis to me. 

I was thinking of contacting Pat Kubis when I distinctly, out of nowhere, heard a voice say, “She is close to you!” I called information and to my surprise, discovered that Pat Kubis was 10 minutes from my home. Pat came to see me and told me all the interesting projects she had been involved with, most I had not known about. She mentioned Don Watson, a psychiatrist. Sure enough, he was just five minutes from my home. This was downright convenient for a start! I arranged to meet their group called Friends Involved In The Paranormal and told them of my experiences. We became friends. Through Don Watson’s contacts I ended up at the University of Arizona in Tucson. 



THE COMPLEXITIES OF DOING READINGS 

My work continued for seven years at the lab. We did experiment after experiment. One big one was with one of my mentors, someone who was like a surrogate grandmother, Susy Smith, a psychic and author who wrote thirty books that popularized ESP, psychic research and mediumship, bringing it to a mainstream audience in the 1960s to 1990s. I loved Susy. She had moved to Arizona to be near the lab and lived in an apartment nearby. I would fly in and we’d have dinner with the researchers. She loved the lab head’s little dogs, Sammy, a dachshund, and a white Westie that would run over to her as she laughed and hugged them. I’m also a huge animal lover, so telling stories about pets was something we bonded over. She was a warm and kind person and it felt like being with family when I was with her. She was also a painter and artist which I admired her for because she had so many talents. I simply adored her. 

I was not told by the head of the lab that Susy had died suddenly of a heart attack. Instead, I received a phone call from them that I was needed to do a single blind reading over the phone. I did not know who I was reading for, only that one of the head researchers would be silently listening on the phone. I was instructed to meditate and write down the information I got. 

Immediately, I felt a strange dichotomy. I had been told I was reading for a subject, which we did all the time for people all over the world. This reading felts weird. I was trying to be professional because I was told I was reading for a subject but I felt strange. I pushed aside my feelings and concentrated. 

I could see an older lady…a grandmother figure, short white hair, short person wearing long dresses. When she was young she had auburn hair. Trouble with legs and feet, shuffling walk, disabled, difficulty walking, recent death, a meditation devotee, involved with vitamins and herbs in latter part of life, loved simple foods, adored flowers. The name “Osbourne” which turned out to be the name of someone she wrote a book about came through. She traveled in California, New York, England. Names Elizabeth and Margaret later turned out to be her mother and their close friend. Massive heart attack like an elephant sitting on her chest. 

I got so many direct pieces of information that were true. I felt strange and uneasy but I couldn’t identify why. When I flew to the university days later and was finally told it was my friend Susy, I was devastated. You would never think that two professionals in the field of psychology would have you read for someone you knew and loved blind, and keep this from you. 

I met with my psychiatrist friend Don Watson, one of the key figures who had steered me to this work. Sobbing, I told him, “I saw a white-haired lady in her red dress sitting in a chair, signing books. It was her! Why didn’t I know it was her? How did I miss the most obvious, important thing?!” 

Isn’t that always what skeptics ask about psychics? “If you’re so psychic, why didn’t you see your own husband was going to have that accident? Why didn’t you see 9/11 coming? Why didn’t I know it was Susy, my psychic friend I did experiments with?” 

Don comforted me and said, “Laurie, it has nothing to do with being psychic. You were primed you were reading a subject, not someone close to you. You went into your working mode, not an emotional place, although you felt feelings breaking through that detachment. It might have been too much to process.” 



 READINGS, MURDER, FOCUS 

In the book Focus: The Hidden Driver of Excellence, science journalist Daniel Goleman writes about how a physician, emergency worker, (a psychic?) can process strong emotional responses while performing on demand. 

“Ordinarily, when people see someone else being pricked with a pin, their brain emits a signal indicating that their own pain centers are echoing that distress. 

“Physicians do not. Their brains are unique in blocking even such automatic responses to someone else’s pain and discomfort, according to findings from a study by Jean Decety, professor of psychology and psychiatry at the University of Chicago. This attentional anesthetic seems to deploy the temporal-parietal junction (or TPJ) and regions of the prefrontal cortex, a circuit that boosts concentration by tuning out emotions. The TPJ protects focus by walling off emotions along with other distractions, and helps keep a distance between oneself and others.” 

How does it work exactly? Back to the guides I work with. They show me something when I ask for information. If they show me someone is being beaten with something I try different things in his hand. It’s like creative visualization. It’s really like the program Photoshop in your computer. It is not imagination. I found myself doing it when reading murder cases for the Discovery Network program Sensing Murder. I saw two bullets go in one of the victim’s head when the forensic evidence detailed she had been shot with four bullets. I said, “I can’t see the other two.” I couldn’t change the picture. Other times I can. They’ll add a component. I’ll ask intuitively, “What kind of clothes did the lady have on…dress, no, shorts” …then I’ll try them on her like a paper doll and get, “Yes, I was in shorts.” I’ve got her body in my head but she is not dressed. It’s not like she’s naked but the details have to come into focus. So…a pair of shorts fly on her. Components get added and subtracted as I ask. They project images and they tell me…I’ll feel it that it is right. 

It’s an intense process…Even if I’m looking into a murder, it’s not that I’m scared when I am doing it, although I am horrified at some of the things I see. Sometimes you pick up on the person’s fear and sometimes you are so trying to track into the technical part of what happened, you can’t be emotional, there’s a job to do. If you look at their face you’ll be emotional but you are trying to get the technical details. Although, yes, I’m human. There was a case where the woman was shot and she fell on her chest and I was right there at the spot. I could feel it and right where she fell there was now a little white flower blooming. I got really emotional. But I’ve got to be like a doctor doing a heart transplant. He has a job to do…but if he thinks about what was going on he’ll get emotional. You must stay disconnected to see the pieces to put it together. 

I’ve thought about this a lot and I think it was why I could get so much accurate information about Susy Smith’s death, but not that it was Susy. Psychic information is unique and idiosyncratic. We have to be sensitive to connect with a consciousness that is on the other side, a person whose consciousness has survived bodily death. I have to be so focused. I do have to feel but too much feeling and it won’t work.

There is such a difference when working on police cases or lab projects then working with people doing private sessions. It's so much more emotional sitting at home reading someone by phone or in person with a human being who just lost someone they love. You have many other factors when traveling to do lab/police work, or the television mediumship I’ve done. So many people are around connected with the project or running film crews. There are so many distractions. There are just so many different things to think about and tune into while there is a camera in your face. I try not to focus on it. I just listen to what the spirits are saying or showing me. 

While filming one episode I had a vision at a hotel of a women with three intruders in her home and a white car. I arrived for the police interview and realized it was another case. I was there for a case involving a younger girl. But now I was seeing another movie. I asked another police officer if a case like this had happened there. He pointed to a flyer on the station wall. It was not the case I was there for. I couldn’t believe that they get through when they want to, no matter what I’m focused on. 

I read for people whose loved ones have died. It’s really sensitive. They are opening themselves and being vulnerable with me and I take that very seriously. Again, that balance of being receptive and feeling but as Daniel Goleman said, having to control the feeling aspect so you can focus on what needs to be done is a constant challenge in this work. One of my friends lost her husband to cancer. In the year after, she said that so much grief when she would hear a certain song or remember a moment. “Why didn’t I tell him what I’m thinking now, how that song makes me think of him? How much his jokes and kindness meant to me? I told him how much I loved him but now without him I would think of this all the time.” But as caretaker, she had to function and handle his illness, the doctors, the hospital, bills, managing the household to care for him when he was home. 

We mediums are in the feeling business. If I forget that, when I talk to people every day and reach their loved ones who have died…. There would be no point to do this. 



A WHITE CROW IN THE LAB 

George Dalzell is a social worker, psychic medium and the author of a book about his experiences, Messages, published by Hampton Roads. He worked with Laurie Campbell in the university lab to do double blind readings of the experiments in his book. The results were so successful that the published report of these readings was labeled, “The White Crow.” (see index) This is his account of his experimental reading that the lab ran with two people not knowing who each other was. Laurie was in the lab in Arizona while George was in his apartment in Hollywood California. 

“This was one of the most remarkable experiences I’ve had,” George Dalzell remembers, telling his story to a journalist. “It was twenty years ago but I never forgot. The lab had made a big splash filming readings for a program on HBO with John Edward, George Anderson, and Anne Gehman, all stars. Now we were trying to validate the unpublished manuscript I’d done. The head of the lab didn’t want to put his name on it until we did this. When it succeeded he gave my book to Robert Friedman, the publisher of Hampton Roads and the Society for Psychical Research. 

“Now these were the old days. There was no internet at that point so it wasn’t like anyone Googled each other! Laurie Campbell and I never spoke. I sat there on the phone and she was divulging data to the lab people and the research director hung up and said, ‘I’ll send you a transcript.’ No other information but when I told them how many things were correct, it was obvious that the reader, in this case, Laurie, had performed off the charts statistically.” 

George continues, “My book is about Michael Keller, my husband, during a different time period politically when gay marriage wasn’t as accepted. I didn’t want a bereavement memoir. Laurie’s reading said it was for someone named George. We never spoke! Instant direct hit on what was a blind science experiment. “The reading was for George, about someone named Michael,” she said on the phone. I have a good long-term memory and I was flabbergasted. We’ve been friends ever since I met her in a conference after the White Crow reading, as it was called in published reports. But back to this blind reading on the phone…Laurie said there was a Robert here? I had asked for certain people to show up, I wanted to be challenging as I am a badass skeptic. Well…. Robert was my father.”

“Also at this time I had just lost a friend to liver cancer, Jerry Blackburn. My control was to see if she could bring Jerry through. I had that in the back of my mind going into this. If she’s the real deal, let’s see if she picks up Jerry. She completely blew me away. She named the sitter, my aunt Alice, another relative named Catherine…Laurie spelled it with a K and my family confirmed that it was K. My father Robert Dalzell died when I was 14, which was very meaningful. To get these messages was extraordinary and I was very moved. 

When she said, ‘There is someone else named Jerry.’ I felt elated and humble. What she did was legitimate. The problem is with an impeccable score. People were not prepared to deal with the magnitude of her reading. I never told ANYONE involved with the lab about my friend Jerry. He had just died. It was a once in a lifetime experience. A life changing experience. I knew that Laurie had this ability. 

The skeptic Ray Hyman criticized the publication of White Crow saying maybe the lab director showed her my manuscript. I thought, wrong, I used Jerry Blackburn, and never told ANYONE about him. He lived and died in Buford Texas. Jerry was the control, the proof. 

I consider myself a skeptic and I didn’t necessarily trust the lab or this mysterious unnamed medium. Well…that reading ended the need to do sitting with mediums because it was so substantial. Over the years I have come to know Laurie. I’ve been to the best of the best and she is the only one I refer people to and the feedback I get from people who have readings with her is always great.

I feel in White Crow, Laurie and I are soulmates. She changed my life after that reading. I felt completely different about life after death. I am a licensed social worker psychologist. I felt Laurie had given me incontrovertible proof of life after death. That was a liberation and a sense of responsibility because when you are given that knowledge and have this experience it takes the sting out of death but raises more questions than it answers. I realized mediumship is totally legitimate. You don’t need faith. Laurie can help a grieving person in a session that otherwise might take a year or two counseling and antidepressants. 

George Dalzell adds. “In the end, my reading with Laurie was life changing because it diminished the fear of mortality. My Mother was religious in a rigid way, and she and my brother didn’t acknowledge my book about my mediumship experiences!! My mother was an evangelical Lutheran’s preacher kid. When I was 18 I said, ‘I’m not going to church’ and she said, ‘You are free to go to hell.’ So my journey has been complex. I had no idea who Laurie Campbell was, and she changed my life.”   



THE HBO EXPERIMENTS 

In February 20, 1999 HBO came to the laboratory at the University of Arizona to film a series involving mediums at work. The program was called “The Afterlife Experiments.” I was excited to be working with internationally known mediums George Anderson, John Edward, Anne Gehman, and Suzanne Northrop. 

We were instructed that the Human Energy Systems Laboratory was collaborating with HBO and that the research would be professionally filmed and aired internationally. We were blind to the identity of the sitters selected for the research. 

I did not know that our first sitter was a 46-year-old Tucson area woman who had lost six loved ones in the past decade. The sitter was recruited by HBO to keep things arm’s length. Besides us mediums not knowing who she was, HBO told her that her identity would be kept secret from the researchers until the day before the experiment was to be conducted. 

The 2nd woman was selected by the heads of the Lab, and was kept secret from HBO as well as our team of mediums. Both sitters signed statements indicating that they had no verbal or written contact with any of the five mediums prior to the experiment. All we knew was that both of these people had lost multiple loved ones in the past decade. The object of the first experiment was to see if mediums could independently obtain accurate and replicable information from a sitter under controlled conditions. 

The secondary purpose was an experiment to see if there could be ECG / ECG and ECG / EEG synchrony between mediums and a sitter during baseline and reading periods. 

John Edwards, Suzanne Northrup and Anne Gehman at that time had excellent reputations and were well known. It was early in the run of John’s television show, “Crossing Over” and his fame was growing. Being teamed with them all was a big deal and very exciting to me. 

The person I most wanted to meet was George Anderson. For years, I had read his books because the way I saw and got things was like him and I could identify with him. I aspired to be like him. He held my hand when I met him and was was so kind and warm. He was a very refined gentleman. George was the only one whose books I had read out of our group. At that time I still thought of the others as East coast mediums, but George Anderson was the one I followed. He came in a limo with his entourage. He read two readers and was shorter on time than any of us and left first. I did get to speak with him, which was a real thrill. He exuded love and compassion. He was known for carrying religious objects that connect to people as things they valued, and giving people these objects when he meets them. He was generous and caring in his remarks to me. 

“The Afterlife Experiments” were a successful HBO program and a book detailing them was published by the head of the laboratory. I won’t recap it all as it has been extensively reported but we all got particular and exact information, about family names, dogs’ names, circumstances of illness and passing, and behaviors of the family members such as jokes. One grandmother who would take out her false teeth in public and embarrass her daughter. Four out of five of us got the name and description of one sitter’s grandfather and her deceased son’s dog. At least in this experiment, there was no correlation between our ECG and EEG’s and the sitter’s. That was a bit of a surprise but it was agreed more research was needed in the future. 



Experiment II (The Miraval Experiment) 

This experiment was to see if we could replicate and go further than Experiment I. We used a new group of sitters from around the country who had various beliefs about life after death and added a new control condition that did not allow any verbal communication between the medium and the sitter. Prior to that we were allowed yes and no questions. Now there would be no communication. 

Four of the original five mediums were able to come to Tucson to collaborate in the research: Myself, John Edward, Anne Gehman, and Suzane Northrop. 

We four mediums were housed at Canyon Ranch resort, ten miles from Miraval. The sitter was housed in a separate hotel. Testing ran for two days. The sitters were many rooms away from where we mediums were. We sat facing a video camera and backup audio tape recorder, backs to the door. A given experimenter would enter the room, make sure that I was seated with my back to the door and facing the video recorder. The tape recorders would then be started. Next, the sitter was brought into the room and seated approximately six feet behind me. For the first ten minutes, I was told to receive whatever information I could about the deceased and share this information out loud. The sitters remained silent. After this Part I silent period, the mediums were allowed to ask yes / questions, replicating the procedure used in Experiment I. 

We all did phenomenally well. We got particular information again about their loved ones with the same particular detail. I’ve been in situations where multiple mediums were reading at once. Even if you are not in the same space, I don’t usually like it because it feels as if you start picking up on everyone, including the mediums! And it gets competitive. That’s human nature. But this was well managed and so professionally done, everyone performed at their highest level.

There was a little side experiment that was not part of the lab or HBO’s planning. John Edwards and Suzanne Northrup had made a secret pact to have her father and his mother get a message to me. They wanted to test my abilities. I had returned home between experiments and then I went back to Miravel and reported I’d seen John’s father and Suzanne’s mother while I was meditating. (I wasn’t expecting them to drop in but they did!) I described the event and them physically in great detail. John and Suzanne confirmed they’d asked their loved ones to come see me. They were very emotional at my report, which just goes to show even mediums are glad to get confirmation that their loved ones are there after they die. 

The HBO “Afterlife Experiments” gave me a higher profile, and I was soon getting ever more readings. In a short time, I was approached for my own television show. This is the story of my first case. 


SENSING MURDER, TELEVISION SHOW 

The morning after I flew in they took us for interviews at the police station, although I went by myself. I was not allowed to meet my fellow psychic on the show, Pam Coronado, until Friday night when we had gone all over the case sites and finished our individual shooting. They kept us separate to see if what we got would match up or contradict each other and what the detectives had in their files.

“This blond girl won’t stop coming through,” I told the executive producer, as we walked into the police station. I realized this young woman I was seeing had short hair and was a different case then the two young women I saw projected on the wall. I saw her when I was walking into the police station. The film crew was waiting and I was introduced to the detective on the case, who was careful to maintain a poker face. He was not going to give anything away.

I wasn’t nervous. I just wanted to do my job and find out about this murder. They shot footage of me walking to the desk, with the detective coming to meet me. They’d stop and start so the film crew could get the lighting right. 

But meanwhile, I kept seeing the girl’s face over and over again while this was happening, as if she was letting me know not to forget to talk about her. I didn’t realize she was the girl in the case. I didn’t recognize or realize I’d get these people before I went to the police department. They were waiting for me to get there. It’s pictures in my head and a sense of confusion, did she cut her hair? I told myself to focus on her as she was there. My mind became filled with her. It’s like you turned on the TV and there is her picture, watching the news and the image of one person comes up. It is not an experience that’s emotional, really. I’ve asked for information and I’m getting it, but it’s given to me in a factual way, as if this person wants to be seen. I usually get a headshot, not a body. It feels as if between my guides and the dead people, they are organizing the information. 

This young lady was persistent. She wouldn’t get out of my head. She wanted to be sure I was going to talk about her. She’s there. I can feel her presence. It’s like someone taking your hand and gently guiding you through – “This is my life, this is what happened to me.” Pam, the other psychic on the show, gets no background but I get what they were like in life, their personality, likes and dislikes, what they were about. This is me sizing up what is the person like. I get feelings and emotions like happy or angry. 

I call it head-tapping. You go into there and pick out how they were. You can feel if they were happy-go-lucky and then at age 15 they got bipolar or depressed. You’ll feel the childhood was fine and then feel a shift. I did one reading when I picked up someone’s blood pressure. I get feelings and impressions of someone’s body…weird physical things.

We know a lot more intuitively then we let ourselves take in. In Gavin De Becker’s book The Gift of Fear: And Other Survival Signals That Protect Us From Violence, De Becker, who Oprah Winfrey calls “the nation’s leading expert on violent behavior,” writes about how fear and those other signals we get are all a gift, part of our sophisticated intuitive system that is brilliantly there to guide us. Yet we don’t listen to it. He drove the point home by saying if an animal in the woods hears a noise, it doesn’t tell itself, “I’m being silly; it’s probably nothing.” 

So I have to pay attention to my intuition about the people I’m reading, the dead ones as well as they live ones. Do I get a great or bad vibe? What am I picking up? That sounds weird but it works. People don’t listen. That’s all I do. I listen. Willis Harmon, PhD, started the Noetic Institute, one of the top centers for studying consciousness research to this day. In Higher Creativity: Liberating the Unconscious for Breakthrough Insights, he and Howard Rheingold quoted researcher John Curtin Gowan, who wrote that “when Michelangelo painted the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel he painted both the minor and the major prophets. They can be told apart because though there are cherubim at the ears of all, only the major prophets are listening. Here, exactly stated, is the difference between genius and talent.” 

That’s what I learned. I can feel them out. I can feel it in the energy that there is hopelessness, that life is difficult or too hard. You get mental pictures, physical and emotional feelings, if the emotions are balanced or not balanced. I feel jumbled up energy that is so scary that I want to run from it. If you don’t want someone seeing the crap in your life don’t let a good medium read for you. We’ll get what you’re hiding, sexual abuse, alcoholism… 

So now, what was I getting? There I was, in the police station, camera, producer, detectives. I was lead to a conference table and the detective positioned himself next to me. I felt relaxed and comfortable and just decided, “I’ll repeat what I see or hear in my head.” 

The detective asked, “What do you have for us?” 

“I have to talk about this girl I keep seeing,” I said, describing the girl with the blond pageboy haircut. One of the things that they used in the show was me telling them an exact description of what she looked like, that she was connected to the University of Colorado (she was, she was a student there when she was murdered.) I said, “She loved the outdoors, would not like to be confined inside. She was a good natured, friendly, maybe too trusting person.” 

We came into this knowing nothing about the case, if it was a man, woman, old, young. My image of the girl with the blond pageboy was the one I kept getting. I was sure it was a young woman who had been murdered. 

What I did not know was how accurate this was. 

Susannah Chase was killed in Boulder, Colorado, on December 21, 1997. She was a beautiful young woman from a loving family. Her sister, Christy, was nine years older, a blond with long hair and a similar lovely facial structure. Christy appeared on the show to pay tribute to her sister and with hopes this might lead to a break in the case. She spoke of how Susannah was the type of adventurous and radiant young woman who “wouldn’t hurt an ant.” She was beaten over the head a block from her home, taken to an alley and left there. She died in the hospital from massive head injuries. Neighbors who heard something outside called the police but by the time help arrived it was too late. 

We knew none of this, Pam and I. We were to get what we could on a case that had been thoroughly investigated but in which leads ran out and detectives were stumped. I sat with Detective Kerry Yamakuchi, one of the two men who had been on the case. The other, Detective Chuck Heidel, was working with Pam on a different time schedule than mine so we would not meet. I spoke of how she kept coming to me in the yearbook photo and my feeling she was connected to that university. Later I found out she was going there when she was murdered.

Detective Yamakuchi handed me a silver ring. I got impressions of a man and woman arguing again but I saw no blows between them. I saw her being struck on the head but couldn’t tell if was an ice pick. I saw a long silver thing. As it was, he hit her on the head with a silver aluminum baseball bat. Pam and I both blew it. Pam thought it was a knife. I wasn’t sure. I could see someone’s hand going up and down, back and forth,. I saw it as if I was standing away from it watching it. I get different perspectives. I can control the field of vision I get. 

How does it work exactly? They’ll show me something when I ask for information. If they show me someone is being beat with something I try different things in his hand. It’s like creative visualization. It’s really like the program Photoshop in your computer. It’s not imagination. I found myself doing it during a later Sensing Murder case. I saw two bullets go in one of the victim’s head when the forensic evidence detailed she had been shot with four bullets. I said, “I can’t see the other two.” I couldn’t change the picture. Other times I can. They’ll add a component. I’ll ask intuitively, “What kind of clothes did the lady have on…dress, no, shorts”…then I’ll try them on her like a paper doll and get, “Yes, I was in shorts.” I’ve got her body in my head but she is not dressed. It’s not like she’s naked but the details have to come into focus..so…a pair of shorts fly on her. Components get added and subtracted as I ask. They project images and they tell me…I’ll feel it that it is right. 

It’s an intense process…Even if I’m looking into a murder, it’s not that I’m scared when I am doing it, although I am horrified at some of the things I see. Sometimes you pick up on the person’s fear and sometimes you are so trying to track into the technical part of what happened, you can’t be emotional, there’s a job to do. If you look at their face you’ll be emotional but you are trying to get the technical details. Although, yeah, I’m human. There was a case where the woman was shot and she fell on her chest and I was right there at the spot, I could feel it and right where she fell there was now a little white flower blooming. I got really emotional. But I’ve got to be like a doctor doing a heart transplant. He has a job to do…but if he thinks about what was going on he’ll get emotional. You must stay disconnected to see the pieces to put it together. 

She had four severe blows to her head with the aluminum bat but I had little detail. 

The detective suddenly said, “We’ll show you the victim’s picture.” I didn’t know if I was there to read male, female, child or adult.. Keeping his face noncommittal, the detective pulled a picture out of a folder, and scooted it over the table. 

My heart dropped to my stomach and my mind screamed. It was the short hair, blond, everything I’d described. I thought, “Oh, God, it’s her, it’s the girl in my head.” I can’t describe what that moment was like. I’ve done nearly a decade of tests in a laboratory. I’ve read hundreds of people in my private readings. But this? Trying to read a murder that I knew virtually nothing about? 

The detective and his staff would not tell me her name or age. I said, “This is her. This is the girl I’ve been seeing since Wednesday.” They wouldn’t confirm or deny it. But I knew. 

What happened next surprised me. I’ve been filmed so many times and never had a problem speaking. I’m relaxed. I completely trust my guides. I trust spirit…let it unfold. I went to speak and suddenly the proverbial frog in my throat struck. My voice disappeared. I couldn’t talk at all. Was it the tension? The altitude of Colorado? I told myself to relax, and drink water. Still, it took a scary fifteen minutes before my throat released and I could talk. The police, producer, and film crew waited. Finally it returned and we went on. 

I talked nonstop for an hour. When I read, spirit erases what I’ve done so it doesn’t interfere or influence me. I forget what I am doing. I just put things through and I barely recollect any of it. Pam, the other psychic, says she remembers everything and I don’t remember half or three quarters of what I’m saying. We stayed at the police station from 9am to 1pm and I did a lot of talking, talking about what I saw pertaining to the case. I can’t stop to think. It’s all right brain and if I analyzed it that would interrupt the flow. When we finished that day, I returned to my hotel, knowing the next day I’d have to find the crime scene. 

I was exhausted that night. AT 11PM I was going to bed. I’d be up at dawn for the next day’s shoot. I lay down on the hotel bed and felt weird. I suddenly looked at the ceiling and as I watched it became like a TV screen with images on it. I saw a cul de sac that did a complete U turn formation. It was surrounded by driveways. I saw houses with garage doors open and closing. I saw police with hats and I thought, “It’s wintertime.” Then the images faded. I didn’t know how it would play out or what it meant. Soon I fell asleep.

                                                                                                                         ***** 

 The detectives were able to piece together the basic facts of the crime due to blood evidence and neighbors who called in saying they heard an altercation outside. On the night of December 21, 1997, Susannah and her boyfriend and his twin brother had gone out to some parties, then for pizza and beer where they boys had wanted to continue partying and she wanted to go home. There was an argument, then they were seen all talked outside the pizzeria and Susannah left.

She was attacked on the corner right across from her house. She was transported and dumped in an alley one block east of the house. Blood marks on garage doors next to the alley showed she tried to lift herself up to get help. Neighbors heard something and police were called to find Susannah still alive, although bleeding with massive head injuries and incoherent. Paramedics took her to the hospital where she died. 

The next day I was up at dawn. I couldn’t sleep well and was glad it was morning. The makeup girl for the show was the sweetest person. She and I ordered breakfast while she made my face up for the filming. I started thinking, is it a housewife and a guy came in and killed her? Why did I see a garage door? What does it mean? Did she have kids, oh my God. When the ceiling popped up with that image the night before I thought, why didn’t this happen more often? Although now I didn’t have the full picture. Or the fact that what I was seeing was the neighborhood as it looked back then and it had changed. 

The film crew, producer and detective drove me around for an hour to disorient me. I saw deer in people’s yards, Christmas deer next to real deer, estates on an acre and large homes, different residential communities. We finally returned to a housing tract and pulled over and parked. I thought, this is where I am to try to find things. 

They said, “We’re going to follow you, lead us to where you think the crime happened.” The day before when I was in the police station I had described a gingerbread house with a huge front porch, pillars, lot of wood cutouts, very ornate. We parked about six houses from a corner. There were a lot of different directions I could have headed towards, the nearby shops, any street. I looked at a big house on the corner. That was the gingerbread house, with the big porch, everything I’d said.

I walked around put felt pulled there by that location, to an intersection by the corner, cattycorner to the gingerbread house. I realized this was a point of reference. I thought, this is where it starts! I looked down the boulevard and saw shops, and alley, the main street. I said, “I think there’s a park or green grass…” I didn’t realize that moment her house was across the street.

In a vision I looked up and saw a man walking toward me. I realized I was seeing through her eyes. I felt that she felt it was ok, then a feeling of fear that it was not ok, that something was terribly wrong. They asked me if she saw him before and I tuned in and felt the surroundings were familiar. I felt her house was around there, not knowing I was standing across the street from it.

I saw, again through her eyes, a dark haired man. I had a sense of vivid energy, a feeling of youth, not that I was looking at someone 45 or older. Heavy clothes or body all covered, not shorts and thongs. I also felt he was off balanced chemically, not right, as if he was on medication. I literally got the feeling of what was inside him, that he was stoned, drunk, the normal state is altered. I get the information in so many different ways, what I need is what they give. There’s no time. They know what I am thinking…what I need…I need to be in him…if I’m back in her head that won’t do it….It’s not that I have to ask…I mean, how fast is a thought? Think of that doctor analogy. I stick my hand out. The guides give me a scalpel. 

I felt that she knew this person, that they had a previous altercation in words, that this was not the first one and when he showed up she had a sense of dread. He was wearing a coat or a knit ski cap, and his hair had texture and curl. As I saw him coming to her I walked to the sidewalk on the main street until I came to a house. I looked down and said, “This is where it stops.” 

The producer was getting mad because the detective would not say anything. She yelled, “Tell her what she just got!” 

The detective said, “Ok, you are right, the attack started on the corner and stopped here.” So there we were, right across the street from her house. 

As the altercation starts, I see blood drops in my mind. I got feelings that what took place still remained. I could feel her being put into a dark car. I walked down a dark alley, to the left, and to the location where she was found. 

I had a rush of certainty of what happened next. “He put her in the car here, a big boxy square car,” and I took off, nearly running, with the detective, producer and film crew coming after me as I rushed up the sidewalk, down the alley. I knew it all, exactly where. I just followed like I was chasing the past. I didn’t know if it was last week or twenty years ago, I was in it right then. 

I got to where I was going and stopped dead. “It looks different than when she was here,” I gasped, looking up and down the alley. I realized standing there looking at the alley that this was where the driveways came in, what I saw on the ceiling the night before. Only it was different then…it had changed. It was the strangest feeling, as if I was comparing a current scene to my own memory…but no, the memory was hers. But it was here. 

I stopped by a phone pole, and I could feel her vomiting. “She threw up here,” I said. “Yes,” confirmed the detective. “She did. You’re right. Was she alive at this point?” “But she threw up….that means she was alive,” I faltered. “No, sometimes people can regurgitate when they are dead,” he told me. “It’s pushed up from the stomach.” “No,’ I said, feeling her. “She was still alive here.” 

They would still not tell me anything. Weeks later, when we were done shooting the case and it was over, I read an article about the murder. Her bloody prints were left on a car and door. She tried to hide or get away. 

We went to the coffee shop across the street from the location of the crime scene to warm up. I was sitting with one of the production and the camera crew. They asked me some questions and I said, “I see the trunk opening. He hit her with something like a tire iron from the trunk of his car.” I got that wrong, it was a baseball bat. Drinking warm tea, I became relaxed from the cold and tension of filming outside. Being relaxed made the information come. I felt he had it in his hand, it was metal, the trunk of the car lifted open…then I knew, “Oh my God, he beat her over the head.” I realized the chopping motion I’d seen the day before was about this. She was killed by him striking her head. I realized a knife or ice pick would go in, and I wasn’t seeing that. I saw she was being bludgeoned. I looked up at the production crew’s face and I could see they were surprised. It came together for me that this is what happened to this young lady; I finally knew. 



THE END OF INTERNSHIP….OUT TO CONNECT ACROSS WORLDS 

So all this is my story. I was not interested in mathematics or science in high school so the fact scientific geniuses and something that defies science as we know it is my life every day is a source of total bewilderment to me. I see myself as a battery. They tap into me and I tap into them. It is exhausting to do this. 

When my guides first came I knew I had known them all in a previous life but it was like some kind of joke now. I’d been sent back to be empty headed with no scientific background so I could receive the information they wanted to transport to people here now. It had to be me. Scientists couldn’t do it. Their egos couldn’t do it. I knew it would take effort. I cried so much the first and second year. It made me feel more separated from them, the way we had to work together now. But that was the way it was. I was not going to quit. I was completely driven to be able to be a medium. I never worried I wouldn’t be able. I had a sense of knowing I could if I worked on it. Meanwhile, my Guide would tell me, “You will be internationally known and your name will be recognized. You will work with the top people in your field.” So I stayed in my room and worked with them so they could teach me how. All these years later, I do it. I know there is survival of consciousness. That’s the least of what I deal with. You know what is far more important? What we all do next, knowing that there is. That’s our challenge.

After a year my guides said they would not play in the mirror any more. I had to take it outside to people. I was traumatized by the impending separation but there was a final surprise for me. One Christmas day, 1995, I walked into the bathroom and standing there was my Guide, handsome, big as me, plain as day. I could see every whisker. He smiled at me as he stood there.

I never saw him again. I grieved I couldn’t see him anymore. But it was time for them to kick me out of the nest. I started doing readings for people.


----Laurie Campbell

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