53-year-old Suzan Saxman says that she has been seeing the spirits of those who have passed away since childhood.
Saxman lives in Woodstock, New York, and has an impressive number of clients- about 500.
For a long time, she disliked being able to see images of impending disasters that she had no power to do anything about.
She also didn’t like the scary visions that spirits would show her in hopes that she could connect them with their living relatives.
She disliked being a psychic and tried to ignore her gift for years. However, she could never stop the images and messages, so she finally decided she needed to embrace them.
She now has a psychic business called The White Gryphon in Woodstock, where she gives readings.
She’s also written her first memoir, ‘The Reluctant Psychic.‘ She will be signing a book at the Upper West Side Barnes and Noble on 01/29/15 for those in New York who want to meet her.
Saxman was kind enough to drop by the offices of The Post last week to talk a little about her work and share some of her more shocking predictions that came true over her lifetime.
Car Accident Prediction
“A boy came to me in Florida for a reading, and I looked and said, ‘You should never drive.’ I saw a car accident, a really bad one.
So I kept saying, ‘Just please, never drive. Just stay out of the car. Maybe you shouldn’t even bother getting a license.’
About a month later, I got a call from his mom saying, ‘He died in a car accident.’ But he wasn’t driving- his friend was. His friend was speeding down the highway, and the boy got thrown from the car.”
“A man in the middle of a contentious divorce came in to see me, but I didn’t think he and his wife were actually going to split up,” the psychic writes in her book.
“I told him, ‘I don’t see you in court, and I do not see you apart from your wife. I’m not seeing any more fighting between the two of you.
In seven years, you will have sole custody of your daughter.’ He asked, ‘How can that be if I don’t get divorced?’
A week later, visibly shaken, the man’s wife came in to see me. After our appointment, her husband told her what I had said, and she mocked him.
She was getting a divorce, and that was that. ‘But it wasn’t; she said as she began to cry. ‘You were right.’ It took her a long time to calm down and tell me what had happened.
Her husband had gone on a routine business trip a few days after I’d met with him, and he’d flown with a friend in a small airplane, and it crashed. They both died in the crash that day.
I’m not sure why I hadn’t seen him dead, except I feel like there is something so sacred about the moment of death that I’m not supposed to witness it. I didn’t see his wife for seven more years.
She returned all those years later to tell me that her daughter had just died of leukemia. ‘You were right about that too,’ said the woman. ‘He has sole custody of her now.’”
The Haunted House
“A woman came to me and constantly said she lived in a haunted house. She was scared of going upstairs because she heard footsteps. Her children were scared of the room, and even the dog refused to step foot in the room.
I saw a little boy left in that room when his family went to the light- his whole family died, but he didn’t go.
I told her, ‘Around the holidays, give him a teddy bear or a ball or something and leave it in the room. Give him a little present for Christmas- acknowledge him.’
She did. She put out a little angel candle for him and talked to him. After she did it, the boy was gone. Spirits want to be remembered and acknowledged,” Saxman says.
“The moment this woman walked into my room, I wanted to vomit.
Sometimes I’ll feel the twinge of someone’s arthritis or the dull pounding of a headache, but this was an overwhelming sensation, and it made me want to throw up,” Saxman says in her book.
“I put my hand over my mouth and tried to keep it together. ‘How are you feeling?’ I asked her as waves of nausea rolled over me.
‘Terrific!’ she said. However, I could see hideous black energy permeating her entire body. Was it AIDS? Was it cancer? Is it contagious?”
“‘ I think you need a doctor,’ I told her.’ It’s ok, I take supplements,’ she said. ‘I’m in great health.’
‘Excuse me for a moment,’ was all I managed to mutter before I rushed out of the reading room. I barely made it to the bathroom before I vomited.”
“’ Please,’ I said when I returned. ‘Get a checkup. You need a checkup.’ ‘I’ll be fine, really.’ ‘No, you won’t. You need a doctor. This is something very serious.’
I tried and tried, but she wouldn’t listen to me. That happens sometimes. A few months later, I saw her obituary in the paper.”
The Punctual Ghost
‘I was preparing for a reading when a woman unexpectedly appeared in my shop, eager for advice. She didn’t have an appointment, was in a terrible hurry, and didn’t even have time to come into my room,” says Saxman.
’I just want to know if I should take this job or not. Surely you can do that without sitting me down.’ ‘Do you know someone named Howard?’ I asked.
The woman shook her head. ‘All I can see is Howard. He’s right beside you, and he’s not happy at all.’ “’Howard?’ She looked completely lost.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know anyone named Howard.’ ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘Maybe you should make an appointment and come in when you’re not in such a rush. All I can see is Howard.’”
“A few minutes later, Howard returned when my scheduled client showed up. ‘Do you know a Howard? In a button-down sweater?’
‘That’s my father!’ the woman cried out. ‘He’s wearing the green cardigan. He never took it off. We buried him in it.’”
“Howard knew my schedule. He knew this other woman was trying to take his daughter’s spot and wasn’t happy about it. Sometimes I think the dead are more eager for my readings than the living.”
“I had this old phone that I’d disconnected two years ago,” says Saxman. “A few months ago, it rings in the middle of the night. I look at the phone, and it says, ‘incoming emergency call.’”
“Immediately, I think, ‘How is this phone ringing? It’s disconnected, and it’s not really a phone anymore.
Then I look at the date on the phone, and it says it’s Wednesday, March 10. The date was actually September.”
“Wednesday, March 10, was the date that my mother died. I run to my friend David and said, ‘I think my dead mother is calling; what do we do?’ We look at each other and say, ‘We’re not answering!’”
“So we didn’t answer the phone from Mommy. I didn’t want to hear that disapproving voice. It was right when the book was about to print. I don’t think she’d be pleased with me right now.
I grew up in a situation where it was like, ‘Don’t let the neighbors know!’ If I said anything about my visions, my mother would grab my hand and dig her nails into it.”
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