After Life_ Answers From The Other Side Part 2

In Crossing Over: The Stories Behind the Stories Crossing Over: The Stories Behind the Stories, I introduced you to Debbie Swift, the daughter of songwriter/singer Carl "Blue Suede Shoes" Perkins. Perkins's career was awe-inspiring, and he was truly a granddaddy of rock 'n' roll. However, when he came through to his family in a phone reading, he was just "Daddy," and not the famous person others perceive him to be.

The only clues I kept getting during the reading that made me think that the person coming through was famous in life were specific, celebrity-related items he was showing me. He showed me Elvis Presley's belt, and I saw images of celebrities such as Wynonna Judd, George Harrison, and Roy Orbison. At first, I thought I was just getting information in my usual, pop-culture way, until his daughter started acknowledging the celebrity names I was listing as the people who had been at her father's memorial or had worked with him in some way. That, I must say, was a wild experience.

I did another celebrity reading on Crossing Over Crossing Over the TV show where I read actress Tracy Nelson, the daughter of '50s teen heart-throb Rick Nelson. The reading was scheduled by the show's producers, who were careful to keep Tracy's ident.i.ty a secret from me. To take the secrecy a step further, I arranged for her to sit down behind me after I was already sitting in the chair so that I couldn't see her face during the reading. I didn't do this to create any dramatic TV the TV show where I read actress Tracy Nelson, the daughter of '50s teen heart-throb Rick Nelson. The reading was scheduled by the show's producers, who were careful to keep Tracy's ident.i.ty a secret from me. To take the secrecy a step further, I arranged for her to sit down behind me after I was already sitting in the chair so that I couldn't see her face during the reading. I didn't do this to create any dramatic TV ooooh oooohs and aaahhhh aaahhhhs, but rather the opposite. I thought if I didn't see the person I was reading, whoever it was would relax during the session and pay closer attention to what I was saying without wondering if I'd recognized them and if I was giving them certain pieces of information because I recognized them.

I told Tracy to just respond with a yes or no, and the session began. Her dad came through almost immediately, and as soon as he did, he acknowledged that his sons were there in the studio as well, so the producers brought Ricky's twin boys, Gunnar and Matthew, to the stage to experience the session with Tracy. Now I had three celebrities sitting behind me, and one on the Other Side. But of the many validations that came through during that reading, there was only one detail I recall about him being famous-a reference to a performance he'd given at a theater like Carnegie Hall. That was it. From my perspective, the man coming through was basically a dad talking about his family and their personal, intimate connections with each other. The message that came through the strongest, which helped the family know that it was Dad, had nothing to do with his career accomplishments-rather, it was a reference to a special "coin" in the family. And one of the kids had brought the coin to the studio that day and had it in his pocket.

Another more recent example was one that will stick in my mind for years to come.

On a cold Thursday afternoon in February 2003, I was maneuvering through Manhattan traffic to get to a hotel on the west side for a reading I was asked to do. When working on my nonfiction books, I collaborate with another writer to make sure there's a journalistic objectivity to the readings we write about-whether they're transcribed directly or paraphrased from either my perspective or the perspective of the sitter. And in the case of any celebrity-related readings, I get the writer-in this instance, my friend and People People magazine correspondent Natasha Stoynoff-to organize the session so I don't know whom I'm reading beforehand or any details about them. magazine correspondent Natasha Stoynoff-to organize the session so I don't know whom I'm reading beforehand or any details about them.

This day, all I knew was that I'd be meeting with a client at 4 p.m. at a hotel in Manhattan's Columbus Circle area, at the foot of Central Park. I left early from my home in Long Island and drove into Manhattan, listening to my all-time favorite singer in the world, the amazing Linda Eder (I mentioned her earlier). Her latest CD, t.i.tled Broadway, My Way Broadway, My Way was in the CD changer, and I played it during the whole ride in. Linda's voice is so powerful that I listen to her music before most of my readings or events, and after them as well. was in the CD changer, and I played it during the whole ride in. Linda's voice is so powerful that I listen to her music before most of my readings or events, and after them as well.

As she was belting out a ballad, Sandra called me on my cell phone. "Hey, where are you?" she asked. "Do you have a meeting today?"

"I'm on the Triboro Bridge on my way to do a reading Natasha scheduled for the book."

"Cooool . . . is it someone famous?"

"I have no idea. But I'll find out shortly. . . . "

AFTER I I MADE IT INTO THE CITY MADE IT INTO THE CITY, I had to maneuver through cars double-parked on both sides of 9th Avenue. An enormous snowstorm had hit the northeast three days earlier, and the piled-up snow made traffic even worse than usual in midtown Manhattan. I made it to my appointment right on time. Natasha, whom you'll read about throughout this book, met me in the lobby. She was there to tape-record and take notes on the session.

As we rode the elevator to the seventh floor, I looked over at Natasha, who was excited and nervous. Since she and I had begun working on this project, she had sat through more group readings and seminars than most people I know, and now this was to be her first, in-person private session to witness and doc.u.ment. We rang the bell of Suite 722, and a very attractive woman named Diane, whom I didn't recognize, answered the door and welcomed us in. She seemed very gentle, quiet, and sad.

We sat on the couch in front of a table laid out with a single red rose and a lit candle, and began what proceeded to be a very emotional, tear-filled session. Almost immediately, a strong energy took over and dominated the entire reading-which is rare. Usually three or four energies will come through in a private session, vying for attention.

Although you might be able to figure it out earlier than I did, it wasn't until we were finished over an hour later did I learn who the "celebrity" in question was. What follows is an abridged version of the reading, which is too long to include in its entirety. But I present most of it, in chronological order, so you can experience the process as it unfolded. And as you'll see, the information flowed with intensity-with messages from a strong energy who had a strong presence in life, too.

John: Okay, the first thing I'm going to tell you is that I have a male who's coming through, claiming to be above you, and he's making it like he's either your father or your stepfather, but he's an older male. He's making me feel that I need to acknowledge the letter "W," like he's connected to the letter "W." Okay, the first thing I'm going to tell you is that I have a male who's coming through, claiming to be above you, and he's making it like he's either your father or your stepfather, but he's an older male. He's making me feel that I need to acknowledge the letter "W," like he's connected to the letter "W."I also have somebody younger who's pa.s.sed. I feel like somebody lost their child. And the older man is letting me know that the child is here the child is here. But with this child, this isn't a health-care pa.s.sing-this is something that happened.So it's got to be an event or something that actually takes place that causes the person to pa.s.s. To me it feels impact related. So I feel like somebody pa.s.ses with an impact, somebody pa.s.ses with a vehicle accident, somebody pa.s.ses with a gunshot, there's a BANG that takes place, and it's not a suicide. This is not a suicide, this is not somebody claiming responsibility-well, it's not that they're not claiming responsibility, they are are kind of claiming responsibility. They're making me feel like they put themselves in the wrong position, the wrong place at the wrong time. kind of claiming responsibility. They're making me feel like they put themselves in the wrong position, the wrong place at the wrong time.And this event was extremely publicized. There are headlines and spotlights all around it. And they're showing me that there are three or four occurrences when people were reporting something that seems to be slightly off, like something was being reported and things were being left out of the report. And the way it was being reported made this individual look bad, and I feel as if I need to bring this up in some way. I don't know, it's like this weird-I don't want to call it controversy, but there's some controversial issue that comes up with this, okay?Now, I'm going to go back and say that this male who's coming through again is claiming to be above you-that means the father, the uncle, the grandfather. He's telling me to let you know that he's here. He wants me to know that this younger male is coming through with him. I'm calling it a male energy because there's a very dominant energy attached to this. It may be female, but if this is a girl who's pa.s.sed, I'm getting a very dominant energy. I have to let you know that he comes through with this child, but in particular, I know that you lost a child. You understand that? Is that true?Diane: Yes.John: Now there's an "A" name connection that comes up here. They want me to acknowledge the "A," okay? And they're making me feel like I also need to acknowledge the other son, the brother. They tell me to acknowledge the boy who's here.They're showing me your son-living, then you have a daughter that pa.s.sed. Right?Diane: Yes.John: Okay, here's the deal. She has a very dominant energy. The way it comes across, I would think you lost a son, because this energy is very masculine, very strong and tough. But her toughness is not exterior; it's not an external toughness. It's an internal, spiritual kind of toughness.And she wants her brother to know that she came through. Her major concern is for you. She's making me feel like you two were more like sisters, or buddies. She wants me to tell you to talk about going to the church, going to the priest, going to the place, and you were there by yourself. I'm feeling a very spiritual-feeling place, whether it be a church, a temple, I don't know. I'm in this place, and while I'm here, I feel like n.o.body is physically there with you, it's like your quiet time, it's your place to be there. And she's making me feel like she was there with you.I don't know if you're coming up on the second month of her pa.s.sing, if you're coming up on the second anniversary of her pa.s.sing, but I feel like we're coming up on two, and she's making me feel like I need to talk about you selling your property, or you selling the house, or you selling the stuff that's coming up, and she sees this. Okay? She doesn't talk about her father, though. The father is not around?Diane: He is, he's around.John: He's living?Diane: Yes.John: Where does the "L" come in for him? Like Len, or Leo or Lee or Leah . . . ?Diane: That's her name.John: She wants me to acknowledge the Len, Lee, Leo kind of version. I feel like-I want to take that and call her that . . . or Dad maybe called her that.Diane: He called her LiLi most of the time!John: She's telling me to tell you that what you wrote was published, that something you wrote was published, and she's acknowledging that. And she wants to know about the yellow tattoo or a yellow painting thing that comes up here that she wants me to bring up. Okay? She shows that.I'm back to the fact that her pa.s.sing was an event. There's an accident. But she's not driving this car; this is not something she was responsible for. But I feel like "I don't have to be here," like "I don't have to be in the vehicle," like "I didn't have to be here."Diane: Mm-hmm.John: But it's the right time because she was done with what she had to do here, as hard as that might be to say. But I feel like she's doing more now there. She wants me to go back again, because one of the major things you're having a hard time with is how she pa.s.ses.Diane: Yes.John: And she's making me feel like she doesn't want to tell me. She doesn't want to tell me how she pa.s.sed. She's making me feel like you understand what I'm saying and I don't have to describe to you exactly what happened, although I'd rather hear it from her. But she's saying she won't, she's not going to go there.She's making me feel like . . . she's in the backseat, and I feel like she could have been taking a nap, she could have had her headphones on, she could have been reading a book, whatever. There's all this hustle and bustle happening. She's getting whooshed off, like I feel like I'm being whooshed, like I have to go to my next place.Diane (nodding): Yes . . . (nodding): Yes . . .John: Now, she did not pa.s.s on September 11th, but she's telling me to tell you 9/11, she's showing me 9/11. There's something about 9/11 connected to her in some way or to your family or to her, but it's like some of the families that I dealt with that are 9/11 related, they didn't have the ability to physically memorialize the person. You were able to do that in some respects, but there are things of hers that were not reclaimed, were missing, were things that you didn't get back.Diane: Yes.John: She's telling me that April is a significant month. It might be a birthday or an anniversary.Diane: Okay . . .John: Now, I feel very, very clearly that you walk around acknowledging her, you know there's something else. Your belief, your faith, and your spirituality are very much intact. What you're not honoring, and I'm sorry to put you on the spot, because I don't really know you, but what you're not honoring is your own grief. And one of the things that I have to tell you is that I believe the only way to get back the love that you have, that unconditional love as a parent for this child, is to honor that grief.Because grief is the other side of love. When you take away the physical person, the object you direct that love toward, you don't know where to put that love. You don't know where it goes. But she's still here. She's still connected here. You know, she's the one who arranged this. It's like she's taking the credit for doing this. And she's making me feel that there's so much stuff left that's not finished with her, like the stuff that she was working on, something wasn't finished.Diane: Yes, yes.John: Did she write? She must have been a writer, 'cause she had to do something that would be-they're making me feel that something important is coming out, like being published. There's a writing thing about her. I think they're making a movie of her, or on a smaller level maybe you're making a doc.u.mentary of her? They're showing me Selena. You're not related to Selena, are you?Diane: No.John: Then she's got to be like Selena.Diane: Uh-huh.John: She wants me to acknowledge your mom-your biological mom. Your mom and she have overlapping similarities. There's a parallel between both, whether it be the same names, similar dates, there's like a similarity that comes up there . . . and a few people pa.s.s in a short period of time as well . . . that you don't finish grieving one person and then this happens, that's my feeling. You're still dealing with the loss of one person, and now this compounds that feeling.Diane: Yes.John: If they're going to do something writing-wise about her, you need to do it. You need to be the person to do it. Not somebody else. With her own stuff, whatever she did job-wise, was she trying to get more active in the control?Diane: Yes!John: She wants you to learn the same. So when you do something, it's going to be therapeutic and healing to you, and you're going to get it right. Your son shouldn't do it-you should do it. Even if you have to work with a writer who's going to capture your voice, your feelings, and your private moments that you want to share. And then, if there's a movie or whatever, it can be made from your book. Not on what somebody else's idea is, or what they think it should be.You know, I feel like-I don't know if that gold chain is yours, if she gave that to you, but she wants me to acknowledge that . . .Diane: [crying]John: She was very happy to help you accomplish things, to take care of you in some way. She wanted to make sure that stuff you did was in style and cla.s.sy. It's all about cla.s.sy. Everything's gotta be cla.s.sy.Diane: [nodding]John: She's talking about getting hair, getting a wig. Is somebody going for hair extensions? Did somebody get some type of . . . after she pa.s.sed, did you find something or have something delivered that was hers, hair related?Diane: Yes.John: From when she was a child?Diane: Yes.John: She must have been out of my state when she pa.s.sed. She wasn't here in New York?Diane: No.John: Where's Betty? Betsy or Beebee, or there's a "B" name she's trying to acknowledge. It might be her way of saying h.e.l.lo to somebody who's still here. She said it's weird that you got this room. Was there something in this room when you got here that struck you as a sign from her? Or the number? What room is this?Diane: 722.John: 722? Does 722 have a meaning for you? This is a big building, and there could have been a lot of rooms they could have given you. But we got this one. She's highlighting this.Diane: She was twenty-two when she pa.s.sed.John: Okay.Diane: And she loved this hotel . . . it was her favorite.John: You have an unconditional type of connection to her, that whatever she did you encouraged and were excited about. She doesn't want to tell me how she pa.s.sed? I'm begging her . . . sometimes they won't do that; sometimes they feel like it's more important-and she does in this case-to move away from the physical pa.s.sing and focus more on the living, on herself, on those still here. Did you make your own DVD or CD of her stuff, that other people wouldn't have access to?Diane: I have a CD that only I have.John: n.o.body else has it, right? She's acknowledging that.Do you have an SUV? She's telling me there's a joke about the navigation thing in the car-either her making a joke with you about that or you were driving and it was telling you where to go and telling you what to do, and you said out loud to yourself, or to her, that if she was here she'd be making fun of this.Diane: Yes, she joked a lot about that!John: She says something about the pink blouse, the pink shirt . . . do you still have that?Diane: I do.John: You just need to know that the stuff she's coming through with-the older man we talked about in the beginning-that father figure, your mom, the great-aunt-these are the people who are with her on the Other Side. She's not alone; she's got family and friends there. She's very clear in the fact that she was a social person in life, and she's equally social on the Other Side.Your spiritual beliefs-hold on to them. They're going to pull you and your family through this. But she's making me feel like you need to be the matriarch, that you need to be the person that . . . you know when you sit on the plane and the oxygen mask drops down and they say you need to put your mask on first before you can help the person next to you? That's what your life is like right now. If the mask drops down, you've got to make sure you take care of yourself first. You've got to take care of you so that you can be able to take care of the other people in your family.Once you do that, then you can incorporate her still being part of your life, and in knowing knowing . . . and that word is probably the one thing that I want you to leave here with today: "knowing." Because the only thing that got me through when I was nineteen years old and just lost my mother was that I had that . . . and that word is probably the one thing that I want you to leave here with today: "knowing." Because the only thing that got me through when I was nineteen years old and just lost my mother was that I had that knowing knowing.I remember pulling up one night at 5 a.m. after being out all night and thinking, n.o.body cares right now that I'm out at 5 a.m n.o.body cares right now that I'm out at 5 a.m. Sure, my grandmother was downstairs, and yes she cared, but she was afraid to say anything to me.My point in saying this right now is that I feel like everybody's in that spot I just described. They're all pulling up at 5 a.m. thinking that n.o.body else cares. Your son, you, your husband. But every time you talk about your daughter, you'll realize that you all care, you all care about the same thing, and by honoring that and by talking about her and what she's left . . . because according to her, she's left a lot-and I don't mean money, I mean like her persona, herself, her image . . . whatever. By honoring that, you can know she's still connected by the bonds of love that bound you all when she was here.Diane: [crying softly now]John: Okay, now she keeps showing me some sort of-I haven't said this yet because I don't know what it means, but she keeps showing me the parking garage on West 56th Street where I taped the show for the first two years. She's showing me standing at the entrance of that parking garage at West 56th. Do you have any ties to that parking garage on West 56th?Diane: No.John: I literally feel like I'm standing right there where there's the wall with the advertis.e.m.e.nts. I'm not sure if she's talking about the advertis.e.m.e.nts, could be, I don't know.Diane: She used to go to the studio around there.John: Maybe she parked there?Diane: Could be . . .John: But I need to make sure that you know that she's okay. And that she understands how painful of an experience today has been, and how painful dealing with all of this has been for you. And she's making me feel like it's really important that you know she appreciates everything you tried to do and that you continue to do. And she has let you know she's around. You do sense her, but at the same time you wish it away or you're kinda . . . "I'm making it up" or "I'm not really sure." Today's different, because it's like she's really unleashing herself on you in a way that you weren't ready for until very recently. And I feel like all of a sudden it became, "Okay, I can do this, I can do this."Diane: Yes.John: And then there's like an apprehension. I would have to say that within an hour before we even got here, you probably were saying, "I don't want to do this, I don't want to do this, I don't want to do this." Do you understand?Diane: Yes, I do.John: But she's okay. She's definitely, definitely, okay. Now when all this is said and done, I want you to have something tangible. And that little flower on the table, I don't think it's there by accident. So what I would like you to do is take that today, and that rose represents this experience. Because you need to have something tangible that we met, that she came through. This is very, very, important that she knows you have that. That's important for her.Did she go by three names? Don't say the names, but did she go by three names?Diane: Yes.John: You know, just because somebody is physically not here, that doesn't mean we don't get the opportunity to work through some of the issues you didn't work through when they were here. So if you need to sit down and write a letter to your mom or write a letter to your aunt or write a letter to your daughter-any one of the people who have pa.s.sed-to express and get out what you've been holding in for such a long time-it's not a bad thing.One thing you need to realize is that if you were driving by yourself in a vehicle that maybe she never saw, and yet she can come here and talk about the fact that you have it and she sees you driving it and the fact that you were joking about the directions and what she would say if she was here, that's their way of continuing to let us know they're still connected to us. Those are the trivial, minute little details that validate the fact that they're still part of our lives. They do still see what's happening with us.Let's say your daughter was still alive, and there was a different type of death-the death of the English language, and your daughter was only able to speak in ancient Aramaic, what would you do?Diane: I'd learn the language.John: Absolutely, you'd learn the language. That's how I want you to perceive this. Because she's still here, she's still connected to you. There's a different type of communication that's happening. It's the language of energy, and I do believe that she'll send you little signs, and she'll send you acknowledgments, and you might have a dream of her, you might have a feeling of her. But it's not something you should look for, because if you look for it, then you miss it. If it happens and you recognize it, that's a beautiful thing. If it happens and you're uncertain about it, acknowledge it in your mind: "Hey, I know you're here, I know you're trying, and thank you and keep up the good work. I appreciate it."Diane: Does she know how much her friends love her? They miss her so much.John: Absolutely. One of the major things people always say during a session is: "Tell her that I love her." My answer to that is: "You just did." You don't need to see a medium to connect with your daughter. Because the relationship is 365 days a year-and one day when the right time happens, you guys will connect again.And when it's time for you to leave and you're done teaching and learning the lessons you need to learn here and you make that transition, I'm positive that the people we love will be there to meet you. Positive! I have no doubt! I know it from doing this work. People come through and say, "I was met by so-and-so," or "I was met by this one," or "I'm with these people."I hope this has helped you. I can still feel the very emotionally charged situation in connection with her. Just know she's okay, and you and your son will be okay, too.

The energy pulled back, and I sat back in my chair, both tired and curious. Who was this celebrity? "I'm freaking out here," I said to Natasha and Diane. "You're going to tell me who this person is now . . . right?! right?!

"John," said Natasha, "it's the young, beautiful, and talented Aaliyah Aaliyah."

Singer/actress Aaliyah had died in a plane crash on August 27, 2001, along with a group of friends and co-workers, when taking off in a small plane in the Bahamas. She was en route to New York after shooting a music video in the islands. Now it made perfect sense why she refused to tell me how how she had died-not only would it have given me a major clue as to who she was, which could have made my knowledge "shut down" (I would have been self-conscious throughout the reading and would have known too much information from the get-go), but also, I was getting on a plane early the next morning and I hate-I mean she had died-not only would it have given me a major clue as to who she was, which could have made my knowledge "shut down" (I would have been self-conscious throughout the reading and would have known too much information from the get-go), but also, I was getting on a plane early the next morning and I hate-I mean hate hate-to fly. Natasha most likely didn't tell me so I wouldn't freak out and get nervous.

Once I knew who Diane's daughter was, other pieces of the puzzle started to come together, and I realized that this reading was indirectly connected to my publicist, Jill. A year and a half earlier, when it came time for me to pick someone to handle publicity after Crossing Over Crossing Over gained recognition, I chose Jill for a number of reasons. First, she'd been to the studio several times with other celebrity clients who had come for a reading, and I was impressed with how she looked after their interests and how kind yet super professional she always was. But after we'd had an official meeting together to see if we wanted to work together, I knew that there was another reason why I'd chosen her. gained recognition, I chose Jill for a number of reasons. First, she'd been to the studio several times with other celebrity clients who had come for a reading, and I was impressed with how she looked after their interests and how kind yet super professional she always was. But after we'd had an official meeting together to see if we wanted to work together, I knew that there was another reason why I'd chosen her.

I told our supervising producer, Liz Arias; and Carol, my a.s.sistant, that I felt Jill needed needed to be connected to this work at this point in time-that it would help her. I wasn't sure what the reason was, and I didn't understand why I felt that way, but now I thought I knew the answer. to be connected to this work at this point in time-that it would help her. I wasn't sure what the reason was, and I didn't understand why I felt that way, but now I thought I knew the answer.

Jill and I were leaving the Crossing Over Crossing Over studio to do our first satellite TV interview one day, and on the way out of the building she told me that one of her clients had just pa.s.sed-Aaliyah. That must have been what I was feeling when I first met her-that she was going to be questioning life and death, her own mortality, and grieving the death of someone close to her. That person must have been her close friend Aaliyah. studio to do our first satellite TV interview one day, and on the way out of the building she told me that one of her clients had just pa.s.sed-Aaliyah. That must have been what I was feeling when I first met her-that she was going to be questioning life and death, her own mortality, and grieving the death of someone close to her. That person must have been her close friend Aaliyah.

When Jill first told me about Aaliyah, I offered to talk to the singer's family, but it wasn't until now, a year and a half later, that Diane felt she was finally ready. I've often said that it's usually best for people to get through the initial stages of grieving before they consult with any medium. Mediumship should never be a first option, because what if the person you want to connect with doesn't show up? The trauma could exacerbate your grief.

Up until Natasha and I had arrived at the hotel, Diane was questioning her decision to get a reading-a fact that came through in the session. As she explained to me afterward, "I was in the hotel, and I walked around by myself thinking, Should I do this? Does LiLi want me to do this? Should I do this? Does LiLi want me to do this? I knew she had a very strong belief in the afterlife. She had begun to talk about it quite a bit as she got older, and she had bought books on it. That's another reason why I wanted to do it, because she had the belief. And the reading really did help me. It really did. It was amazing . . . there were so many parts that were so right on point. Some of the things you said were things that were so Aaliyah." Or "LiLi," as she was often lovingly called by her family. "She really was called three names: 'Baby Girl,' 'LiLi,' and then 'Aaliyah,'" said Diane, as she pointed out the validations in the reading. I knew she had a very strong belief in the afterlife. She had begun to talk about it quite a bit as she got older, and she had bought books on it. That's another reason why I wanted to do it, because she had the belief. And the reading really did help me. It really did. It was amazing . . . there were so many parts that were so right on point. Some of the things you said were things that were so Aaliyah." Or "LiLi," as she was often lovingly called by her family. "She really was called three names: 'Baby Girl,' 'LiLi,' and then 'Aaliyah,'" said Diane, as she pointed out the validations in the reading.

As soon as the "dominant" energy came through to me, even though I thought it might be male, Diane knew it was her LiLi. "That was so on point," she says, "because she was sweet, thoughtful, compa.s.sionate . . . but at the same time, she had this strength that I was in awe of. I used to tell her, 'I think you are a magnificent human being, and I am truly in awe of you.' And she'd say, 'Really, Mom?'

"When something went wrong, she exhibited a strength that was magnificent. And I truly looked up to her." The two of them were indeed good buddies. "There was nothing she couldn't say to me and nothing I couldn't say to her," Diane remarked. "We talked about everything. She was my best friend. I would call her for advice! Who would think that a twenty-two-year-old could give me advice! But that's how she was."

What really hit home for Diane were the little, intimate details that came through that only people close to her knew about. Like Aaliyah's pink clothes.

"The color pink, that was a color she began to like when she was about eighteen years old. It was my mother's favorite color, and they were very close. All of a sudden one day, I noticed she'd been wearing a lot of pink . . . and I said, 'LiLi, you're liking pink now?' And she said, 'I don't know what it is . . . maybe it's Grandma!' n.o.body really knew about this . . . maybe a couple of her close friends. For you to mention pink, it just hit me."

Other private moments, such as Diane's lone visit to their favorite church, also hit home.

"Aaliyah and I used to go to St. Patrick's Cathedral when we'd go shopping in the city. We'd be holding hands and we'd stop in there. A month after this happened, I went back to St. Patrick's alone, and I saw the priest and sat in on a service. I was by myself, trying to get some inner peace. And I've been there several times since."

Diane also confirmed that she has a piece of music of Aaliyah's that no one else has. "She made an audition CD to get into the performing arts high school, and she sang 'Ave Maria' in Latin. I found that CD, and we played it at the memorial ma.s.s we did for her. That CD is mine. No record company or anybody has it . . . it's mine, and it's awesome. It's just her with a piano accompaniment."

A reference that the family had written something about Aaliyah that was recently published was also true-"That was correct, too," acknowledged Diane. "Rashad wrote an article on his sister for Teen Vogue Teen Vogue called 'Little Sister Lost' for the June 2002 issue." called 'Little Sister Lost' for the June 2002 issue."

One word that came up a few times in the reading was cla.s.sy cla.s.sy, which Diane says describes her beautiful daughter to a T.

"She always wanted to do things in a 'cla.s.sy' way," said Diane. "And that was always how we described her. And when you said she was the kind who lived without regrets, that was so true, too. She would always say, 'You know . . . you can't live your life like that . . . ya gotta do what you gotta do . . . what will be, will be.' So when you said that, it was almost like she was talking to me right there in the room. LiLi liked to live in the moment, and whatever that moment was, she cherished it, she embraced it, and she always said, 'We have no control. If something's going to happen, it's going to happen.'"

As Diane and I continued to talk after the reading, some other validations started to emerge. I realized that the parking-lot reference was a validation directed toward me me-I had parked in that lot every day when I was working at the studio nearby and remembered that there was a gigantic billboard for the movie Queen of the d.a.m.ned Queen of the d.a.m.ned, with Aaliyah's face about twenty feet high next to the lot. I couldn't help but see that billboard each day for months as I entered the studio. Diane also made the connection for the male with the "W" name who appeared first in the reading, bringing through her daughter.

"My best friend, Keeth Wallace, he was on the plane with Aaliyah. I didn't get it at first. He was very close to us, and like an uncle to LiLi. That's why he went with her on this trip. Because I had surgery and couldn't go, he took days off from work to go with her. He said, 'Diane, since you can't go, I'll go.'"

As our session came to a close, Aaliyah's strong energy still lingered in the room. I saw a flash of an ethnic-looking bracelet in my mind's eye.

"Diane," I asked, "where's the bracelet? Do you know if she had a scarab-an Egyptian bracelet?"

Diane wasn't sure, although she did know that her daughter had a lot of Egyptian jewelry. Diane's homework was to check on the bracelet as well as other information she didn't understand-such as the "B" name that I'd gotten. [Diane now believes that this might be her niece, Blair, whose birthday is in April-this would refer back to April being significant, and the "B" name.]

Although Diane's spirits seemed a little lighter than when we'd first shaken hands an hour earlier, I could still feel the high emotion of the loss for her.

"Sometimes it's all so unbearable," she said, softly weeping. "Some days, I just want to . . . I'm in a daze. Yesterday I just walked in circles and cried my heart out. It's hard to go on. . . . "

"That's a very human feeling," I told her, "but you're still here because you've got stuff you need to do. You have to be the person to honor your daughter's memory. Because then people are really going to get a chance to understand who she is."

Before I departed the hotel-with Diane clutching the red rose as a memento-I left her with one last thought. "Diane, I want to be bold enough to tell you this: Your daughter is larger than a plane crash. That plane crash happened in a minute, but her life was a lot longer than that. You have to look at everything she accomplished. And even though she did leave us physically, she's still here; she's still connected to you. And the love you have for her and the love she has for you is still very much here and alive."

I reminded Diane that the most important thing for her to do now was to honor her grief-to feel the pain so she could get back to feeling some joy instead of pacing around her apartment and cutting herself off from life.

"Aaliyah is still connected to you, and she's counting on you," I told her. And all of us must remember this when we lose someone we love. Cry, then pick yourself up bravely, because they're watching over us and hoping we'll do well during the rest of our years here, fulfilling whatever destiny we have.

"And one day you will see her again," I told her. "I promise you . . . one day, when the time is right, you will see your daughter again."

CHAPTER 3.

GOING DOWN UNDER.

A ROO IN THE HEADLIGHTS.

UNTIL I I STEPPED FOOT ON RUGGED STEPPED FOOT ON RUGGED A AUSSIE TERRAIN, I always thought that a wombat was one of those mythical creatures, like a unicorn or a mermaid. I never thought I'd one day be holding one-never mind doing a psychic reading psychic reading on one. on one.

I'd arrived in Sydney, Australia, the day before to embark on a two-week seminar tour in January 2003-the first one I'd done outside of the United States since I began this work. In the last few years, I've had countless invitations to conduct seminars in other countries including England, Canada, and even j.a.pan-where I was offered $100,000 (U.S.) to do two one-hour TV appearances-but I always turned them down. Why? First and foremost, I'm not motivated by money, and I know that the green stuff can never be the force behind spiritual work like this. If it is, then my work will inevitably suffer.

I know that a lot of people don't believe me when I say this, because they see me as a TV celebrity "cashing in" with books and seminars and such. But I stand by my words: I honor the work and the process first. The other reasons I turned down the invitations are that I'm naturally a homebody and don't like to travel too far from my family, and also-I'm quite patriotic. I always felt if I had the time and energy to do this work, I should do it for my own country. And, G.o.d knows, it wasn't as if I were running out of dead people here. But after Crossing Over Crossing Over went into syndication in Australia, the people "down under" really took to the subject matter, and the show took off like a rocket. went into syndication in Australia, the people "down under" really took to the subject matter, and the show took off like a rocket.

"Why don't you go down?" Reid Tracy, president of Hay House, Inc. (the original distributor of this book), urged me over lunch one day last spring. "The show is a hit, and the people love you. It would be fun, like a vacation. Go somewhere new. Take the family. . . . "

Carol, my a.s.sistant, was lunching with us and began to launch into our standard excuse about how I don't like to leave the country . . . blah, blah, blah. So I don't know what came over me, but in a moment of inspiration, I interrupted Carol's speech with an "Okay, let's do it!" "Okay, let's do it!" Carol and Reid were shocked-Reid Carol and Reid were shocked-Reid pleasantly pleasantly so, since he thought he'd have to do way more convincing than that. But I was probably more stunned than either of them. Reid was right-maybe it so, since he thought he'd have to do way more convincing than that. But I was probably more stunned than either of them. Reid was right-maybe it was was time to spread my wings and have a bit of an adventure. time to spread my wings and have a bit of an adventure.

Before I could change my mind, he had arranged a two-week, three-city tour, and when tickets went on sale, they sold out in a record nine minutes for venues holding up to 10,000 people. So far the biggest group I'd ever worked with was an audience of 8,000 in Anaheim, California-but that time I was one of four speakers. This time it was going to be just me, solamente solamente.

I had no worries about getting the job done-there could be 50,000 people in a room and someone might be sitting in the last row in a dark corner . . . but if I'm meant to read them, I'll feel the pull and find them. So I wasn't worried about the Other Side speaking up loud and clear. I was more worried about us living living beings on beings on this this side understanding each other. Would the rugby player in Brisbane be able to comprehend my obscure American pop-culture references? Would I understand side understanding each other. Would the rugby player in Brisbane be able to comprehend my obscure American pop-culture references? Would I understand their their lingo? And then there was the accent. When I was visiting the Dominican Republic with a friend over a decade ago, I tried to show off my limited understanding of Spanish by conversing with a waiter. The only thing was, I had to ask him to repeat what he was saying three times, and lingo? And then there was the accent. When I was visiting the Dominican Republic with a friend over a decade ago, I tried to show off my limited understanding of Spanish by conversing with a waiter. The only thing was, I had to ask him to repeat what he was saying three times, and slower slower, please-until my buddy Lisa couldn't stand it anymore.

"He wants to know if you want a gla.s.s of water!" she blurted out.

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"John . . . he was speaking English English!"

But in Australia, the communication gap started before I even got there. During a stopover in Los Angeles, I gave a satellite interview with the Australian version of the Today Today show. The reporter started out with the usual questions: "When did you know you were psychic? How does it work?" And then she hit me with a zinger. "John," she continued, leaning in,"what would you say to one cynic here in Australia who says you're just an elitist vulture circling the corpses show. The reporter started out with the usual questions: "When did you know you were psychic? How does it work?" And then she hit me with a zinger. "John," she continued, leaning in,"what would you say to one cynic here in Australia who says you're just an elitist vulture circling the corpses?"

Ouch. I couldn't believe this woman had just asked me that. I'm all for somebody expressing their views and saying they don't believe in what I do . . . but have a little respect, please. (I don't even remember how I answered her, as I'd slept very little that night and felt groggy and edgy.) Boarding the flight for Sydney, everything was in slow motion-my thoughts, my reactions, even the rapid-fire speech that I'm so infamous for (and often admonished for)-and I wondered if my guides were "slowing me down" to make sure that not only would I understand my foreign audience, but they'd understand me me. By the time we reached the customs counter in Sydney twenty hours later, my reflexes were set on "sluggish."

"What's in the tins?" the customs guy asked as he ruffled through my luggage.

"Excuse me?" I had no idea what he was talking about.

"What's in the tins tins, mate? The tins! The tins!" My friend Jesse, who was behind me in line, pointed to my six-pack of protein drinks as I watched the customs guy shake them and read the tiny ingredients list on the back. Once he was confident I wasn't bringing in any strange American animal product into the country, he waved me on.

We arrived at our hotel in downtown Sydney for one night's rest before traveling to Brisbane, where the seminars were slated to start. As soon as I checked in, I took a much-needed walk around the edge of the harbor by the Sydney Opera House to stretch my legs after that long flight. To tell you the truth, my first glimpse of Sydney reminded me of downtown Manhattan. From where I stood, I imagined looking to my right and seeing the Statue of Liberty. I telephoned Sandra in New York and woke her up.

"What time is it over there?" she asked, half-asleep.

"I have a better question for you," I responded. "What day day is it?" I had crossed the international dateline and was sixteen hours ahead of home time. My body clock was in flux. I'd traveled into the future. is it?" I had crossed the international dateline and was sixteen hours ahead of home time. My body clock was in flux. I'd traveled into the future.

Sandra and Justin had stayed home on this trip since he was barely four months old and we thought it best he stay landlocked for a few more months. Accompanying me instead was a group of friends and co-workers: Crossing Over Crossing Over executive producer Paul Shavelson, producer/cameraman Duncan Cameron, and actor and camera dude Jesse Shafer (all there to shoot a doc.u.mentary about the tour for the Travel Channel); my buddy and executive producer Paul Shavelson, producer/cameraman Duncan Cameron, and actor and camera dude Jesse Shafer (all there to shoot a doc.u.mentary about the tour for the Travel Channel); my buddy and TV Guide TV Guide reporter Michael Logan; my publicist, Jill, and her boyfriend, Jack Rico-a journalist for the Spanish TV station Univision; and Natasha (the reporter Michael Logan; my publicist, Jill, and her boyfriend, Jack Rico-a journalist for the Spanish TV station Univision; and Natasha (the People People magazine correspondent I introduced you to earlier), my collaborator on this book. magazine correspondent I introduced you to earlier), my collaborator on this book.

After another sleepless night on my part, we all hopped into a water taxi the next morning and headed off to our first tourist attraction-The Taranga Zoo. And this is how it came to be that I "read" a wombat. As soon as we arrived at the zoo, a tour guide plopped little Digby, a baby wombat, into my arms. He was really cute and lovable, even if he did look kind of like a humongous rat. The guide filled me in on the wombat's tragic history and told me that his mother had been hit by a car months before and he had been found in the pouch, alive, and had been brought to the zoo to live. As she was talking, I started to pick up on Digby's energy.

"Did he have a problem with his skin or his fur when he first came in?" I asked. Yes, he did, she said. Before I knew it, I was spouting out all sorts of information, casually, as if I read wombats every day. Reid Tracy, who was also with us that day, was the first one to notice. "Oh my G.o.d," he exclaimed, "he's reading the wombat!"

Well, to be more specific, I was getting information from my guides about about the wombat. It's not like I was getting Digby's mother coming through . . . or a wombat the wombat. It's not like I was getting Digby's mother coming through . . . or a wombat to his side to his side. But I think anybody who has pets knows what it's like to connect with an animal psychically. I'm always able to sense when our dogs, Jolie and Roxie, are hungry before they come to me with their tongues hanging out of their mouths. Digby would be the first of many animals I would connect with on this trip . . . you might say he was my "warm-up" wombat.

At the zoo, I also got a taste of my apparent "celebrity status" in Australia. Probably ten times more people than usual recognized me with a nod or a smile, but it was much more relaxed than what happens in the States. They didn't come up to me and demand a reading on the spot like some New Yorkers do on Manhattan sidewalks. One little boy about seven years old approached me and asked if I would pose in a picture with him and his school chums, all big fans of the show. Well, that just about blew my mind. I was amazed that Crossing Over Crossing Over was reaching such a young audience here and could only a.s.sume that there must be more of an openness toward spirituality in general in this country. My theory would prove to be right. was reaching such a young audience here and could only a.s.sume that there must be more of an openness toward spirituality in general in this country. My theory would prove to be right.

Leaving the zoo that day, I had a moment of homesickness . . . and felt a warm, powerful sense of my mother around me, embracing me like a warm sweater. I was standing next to this big gla.s.s tank filled with sea lions, and I looked into the water. Two seconds later, a white feather started to slowly float upward in the tank.

"Duncan, get that on tape! get that on tape!" I said as I grabbed our camera guy. Duncan began to roll film, all the while asking me why he was shooting a boring tank of water. What did it mean? That's a job hazard (or perk, depending on how you look at it) when you work with me-most things usually mean something something.

"It's a message from an old friend," was all I told him, and a second later the tape ran out.

As some of you might know, the feather was a message from my mom. In my second book, Crossing Over: The Stories Behind the Stories Crossing Over: The Stories Behind the Stories, I revealed the three signs my mother and I decided upon together before she died that she'd send me from the Other Side (a reference to her nickname, "Princess"; a reference to Pooh Bear; and some mention of the town Springfield from her favorite soap, Guiding Light Guiding Light). But right after she pa.s.sed, I also asked her to send me one additional sign to let me know she was making the transition okay-and that sign was a white bird. That white bird appeared on a floral arrangement at her funeral, giving me the validation I needed. Since then I've received the "abridged" version-a white feather-several times, and that, too, has come to mean a message from my mom. There I was, thousands of miles from home and already feeling homesick, and here was Mom to remind me: You're not alone You're not alone.

By the time we reached Brisbane for the first two seminars, I was running on four days of no sleep and walked out onstage with my body and brain still on 4 a.m. Eastern Standard Time. But as soon as I keyed into the enthusiasm of the 4,000 people packed into the convention center that first night, their energy lit me up like a Christmas tree, and I was on. I was able to give dozens of mini-readings that night, which were simultaneously projected onto three giant screens in the venue for everyone to watch. In total, we did so many fantastic readings during the Australia tour that I could write a whole book on it. Here, I'll include just a few snippets.

In one of the early readings the second night, I was drawn to a woman in the front row as the sound of gunshots went off in my head.

John: Somebody here was shot. Somebody pa.s.ses from a gunshot in this area.Woman: My husband was shot.John: By somebody he knows? Because I have a familiar feeling attached to this-Woman: Yes. He was murdered by a friend of a friend.John: And the friend got away with it?Woman: He got away with it for a few hours.John: I have a feeling that . . . as far as being punished, it's like the person got off in some way.Woman: Yes. The person who shot my husband was an escaped prisoner, and my husband's friend was harboring him. I don't think he meant for the prisoner to actually take the shot at my husband that killed him, but he was as much to blame as the other one, even though he wasn't the murderer.John: He was your second husband. . . .Woman: Yes.John: Can I be really blunt?Woman: I would expect that, actually.John: Did you hit him?Woman: Um, we hit each other. He was very frustrating . . . but I didn't hit him hard! [laughter in the room]John: Let me tell you what he's showing me. He's making me feel like he provoked a level of emotion in you that would make you do that. Follow me?Woman: Correct.John: He asks if you're going to get your two back teeth pulled or fixed.Woman (laughs): I haven't had time to do it yet! (laughs): I haven't had time to do it yet!John: But do you know what he means?Woman: Yes!

The brief reading I did on this woman, whose name I later found out was Kerry Davies, shows how a loved one from the Other Side often picks out a small yet intimate detail to identify him- or herself to their relatives. In this case, Kerry's husband, Peter, brought up his wife's teeth that still needed to be fixed.

After the reading, Kerry, 44, a homemaker living outside of Brisbane, commented on her experience. "I couldn't believe that came through. Peter always used to say to me, 'You're a beautiful woman, but you have to get something done about your teeth!' because I'm losing them in the back. And that was quite funny to hear. No one else knew that."

But in his brief appearance, Peter also touched upon the serious issues of their volatile relationship and his murder. "Peter was quite violent because he had been a heroin addict for twenty years," Kerry explained. "But he had finally given it up. And it was sort of sad, because after he died, we got the medical report and it said he was clean. I couldn't believe it . . . because six months before he wasn't. Now he was, and he was dead."

His murder fifteen months earlier had been big news in the local papers-an escaped convict harbored by a friend of Peter's killed him because he suspected Peter was going to turn him in to the police.

"I walked into the front yard and saw him shoot my husband with a 30-30, blowing his head off in front of me," Kerry described. "Peter was lying there . . . and I could feel the zapping of his energy. For three days afterwards, I knew he was in the house with me . . . I could feel it. It was a frantic energy, a frantic spirit. And then it just seemed to go. Although I still often feel Peter's energy in the house with me, I don't feel that frantic panic anymore."

As the evening progressed, I noticed that a lot of people, like Kerry, seemed to be in touch with their own psychic side or intuitive abilities. I asked Sydney-based Leon Nacson, managing director of Hay House Australia, about it. "It's cultural," he told me. "We're more apt to seek out self-empowerment, psychology, and self-help."

My own theory was also this: Since Australians are somewhat isolated from the rest of the world, and their country is less densely populated than many, they're more in touch with their primitive feelings and learn to rely on their instincts and intuition, so their spirituality has been fostered. That same night, I keyed into yet another high-profile murder case, this time involving a young girl, which was solved by one relative's psychic vision. It was a highly emotional reading for the two family members in attendance, but in the midst of all the seriousness, I also had a little laugh at myself as I stumbled across my first Australian-American pop-cultural gap. Did the Australians know who Howdy Doody was? I was about to find out.

John: I have a younger female coming through . . . a younger sister, a niece. I don't think it's a daughter. I'm with someone with a "Benny" sound . . . a Bonnie, Benny . . . a "B" name.Woman: I have a step-granddaughter who was tragically killed.John: She's not coming through as a daughter; she's coming through as a sister. . . .Woman (pointing to young woman next to her): She was like a sister to my daughter. (pointing to young woman next to her): She was like a sister to my daughter.John: She's coming through below you, so was she much younger than you?Daughter: Yes.John: I need to acknowledge she's here, and there's a unique "B" name connected to her.Woman: Her last name was Beasley.John: There's an unanswered feeling about this. There are question marks all over the place, as if you guys have not had the answers you would have liked. Do you understand this?Woman: Yes.John: I have an out-of-country feeling about this. The person who did this, was he not from here?Woman: Right, he came from another country.John: Now, I could be bringing in someone completely different here . . . but . . . was she strangled? She was either strangled or asphyxiated because I feel like I can't breathe.Woman: Yes! She was asphyxiated. We have an idea how it happened, but we don't know all the details.John: This is going to sound strange, but . . . it does feel like it was an accident to me.Woman: He was saying that from the beginning . . . that he didn't really mean to do it . . . that it was an accident.John: It was not not intentional. I don't feel a brutal, intentional, premeditated feeling. This is a quirky, irresponsible event . . . but I'm not saying it was acceptable. She's showing me pink roses. She wants me to talk about the white bird connection you have. Did you have a special floral arrangement made for her? intentional. I don't feel a brutal, intentional, premeditated feeling. This is a quirky, irresponsible event . . . but I'm not saying it was acceptable. She's showing me pink roses. She wants me to talk about the white bird connection you have. Did you have a special floral arrangement made for her?Woman #2 (sitting next to her): Yes, my daughter did. (sitting next to her): Yes, my daughter did.John: She wants me to acknowledge a special floral arrangement. Special. Not just flowers . . . there's also a thing about a white bird.Woman #2: Yes, I had a special floral arrangement made.John: She's got the cousin with her on the Other Side. The male figure to her side.Woman: That would probably be her half-brother who pa.s.sed as a baby.John: Please let the family know she came through and that they need to let go of how she pa.s.sed. They're too stuck on this. You're never going to forget it; it's never going to go away. But to find some type of closure and healing, you need to move away from the event so you can move through your grief.You have to go on that journey, because when you get through your grief, you get back to love. It's like grief is the other side of love.Woman: Okay . . .John: And she's making me feel like . . . do you know who Howdy Doody is? She's showing me Howdy Doody.Woman: No . . .John: Um . . . okay . . . uh . . . how do I describe this . . . he's a puppet . . . and . . . red hair and freckles red hair and freckles?!Woman: Oh, that's my other daughter, Harmony! She has red hair and freckles!

Young Sheree Beasley, only six years old, was riding her pink bike one sunny afternoon in 1991 when she was abducted and murdered. She was missing for three months before police found her dead in a drain under a country road, her clothing scattered at the scene, and her body so decomposed she had to be identified by her nails. Not only was the case big in the papers in Australia, but one of the detectives on the case wrote a book about the investigation called The Murder of Sheree Beasley The Murder of Sheree Beasley. Sheree came through at the seminar for her step-grandmother, Denise Greenhill; and aunt, Adele, with details of her murder and the hopes that her family would move on from the horrible way she died.

"The guy who did it claimed the killing was accidental, that he never meant to do it, he never meant for it to go that far," Denise confirmed, "but that didn't lessen our anger toward him. We still feel the anger. How do you get over that?" After the police had found the body of a young girl, they had trouble identifying it, and the only item of clothing left on her was a T-shirt with a picture of a big cat on the front. Sheree's mother couldn't remember what her daughter had worn the day she was abducted because Sheree had dressed herself that morning-or if she even owned a T-shirt like that. But that night, Denise had a dream-of Sheree standing in front of her wearing her beloved roller skates . . . and a T-shirt with a cat on it. She got up and woke her husband, who then contacted Sheree's paternal grandparents. They rifled through the family photo alb.u.ms and found a picture of Sheree wearing that same shirt.

Hearing Sheree come through at the seminar helped the family find some closure. Denise remarked, "Sheree must have known that we really needed to hear from her. We've all had such trouble dealing with her death and getting past how it happened. But she says we have to just get past it. I know we have to. I will take that message home with me-especially to my ex-husband-that we have to live on."

KARANGATUDE!.

MY NEWFOUND KINSHIP WITH THE NATIVES-and I'm talking about the animal kingdom here-continued, to the point where Leon joked that he was going to nickname me "Dr. Doolittle." On yet another tourist adventure, our group packed into a bus like schoolkids and made our way to Steve Irwin's Australian Zoo-founded by Mr. Crocodile Hunter himself!

On the ride there, the landscape looked strangely like suburban Florida. The roads were lined with palm trees and strips malls, with Burger Kings and McDonald's-which was all very fine and good by me. I'm a lifelong picky eater, so by day five I was subsisting on the familiar: Mickey D's.

Jill, a fellow food purist, was living on chocolate and French fries but no burgers-after biting into one at the hotel, she became paranoid that they were made of kangaroo, or "roos," as we now called them, as per the local slang. As the landscape whizzed by, we pa.s.sed a street named "Edward Street," and then a block later, a street named "Gallery on Edward." I took it as a sign that I was on the right road.

The first thing I noticed about the Australian Zoo was that, in a funny way, I felt as if the humans humans were the attraction. Usually when you go to a zoo, the animals are in cages and the people mill about staring at them. Here, you walk among the animals' natural habitats, and they come right up to you and check you out. We petted the dingos (and I had to hold myself back from doing my Meryl Streep impression: "A dingo stole my baby!"), fed the kangaroos, and took our turns doing "the koala cuddle," as they call it, balancing a little koala named Lawson on our chests. After lunch, I was feeling daring enough to let one of the guides wrap Rosie, a boa constrictor, around my neck. (She was named Rosie for her pink cheeks, I was told.) The whole place was very impressive, and I really feel that Steve Irwin was an amazing man doing incredible things to educate people about animals and to provide a good home for these wonderful creatures. His enthusiasm always came through in his TV shows and I'm telling you now-his dedication to their cause was admirable, and his legacy continues. were the attraction. Usually when you go to a zoo, the animals are in cages and the people mill about staring at them. Here, you walk among the animals' natural habitats, and they come right up to you and check you out. We petted the dingos (and I had to hold myself back from doing my Meryl Streep impression: "A dingo stole my baby!"), fed the kangaroos, and took our turns doing "the koala cuddle," as they call it, balancing a little koala named Lawson on our chests. After lunch, I was feeling daring enough to let one of the guides wrap Rosie, a boa constrictor, around my neck. (She was named Rosie for her pink cheeks, I was told.) The whole place was very