SandraFrazier.com
The Official Web site of Sandy Frazier
Artist,
Musician and Writer
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THERE'S A GHOST IN TIMES SQUARE! by Sandy Frazier A Message from George M. Cohan One morning in January 1995 I turned on the radio for a few
minutes to ease the drudgery of sitting in a traffic jam in mid-town
Manhattan. Within that few minutes, I chanced upon an AM news station that
announced there was a ghost haunting one of the old abandoned theatres near
Times Square. In recent past, I'd read of some plans to renovate that part of
the Great White Way, but couldn't remember any of the details. I only vaguely
remembered that some big corporate moguls were planning to transform the tattered
area into some sort of entertainment Mecca. I wasn't interested. Too young to
ever have experienced Broadway in its heyday and not knowing any descendants
of those times, I only knew about what I'd read and fantasized about the
theatre. The Times Square Ghost had been spotted on several occasions
and a number of mediums had been called in to investigate. I was told later
that some of these mediums ran out of the theatres horrified at what they
considered to be evil entities lingering in the old, abandoned buildings. I
thought how ridiculous; I knew full well what was going on. But I had to call
my mother, Elizabeth Baron, the nationally-known trance medium, to get her to
"tune in" and find out what was really happening. When I asked her
to tune in, she closed her eyes and pictured the ghost and told me that this
particular spirit had something to do with President Franklin Roosevelt. She
said that fact would rule out any other suspects. Right away I knew my mother
had to come to the theatre and use her gift as a trance medium to try to
communicate with the spirits. So I called CBS and asked to speak to the reporter who was
investigating the story. I couldn't reach him, but passed on the information
and soon they introduced my mother to Maria Alvarado, the manager of the
Times Square Business Improvement District who would take her to the old Sam
Harris Theatre where the hauntings were occurring. When my mother contacted
Maria, they immediately connected and right away she was able to tell her
that it was a kind and loving spirit that was dwelling in the Harris Theatre.
Maria was pleased because she was the only person who had seen the
apparition. She said her boss had actually asked her to find a good trance
medium to handle it, but she hadn't been successful in finding the right one. Soon after, arrangements were made for my mother and two
friends to come to Times Square and so Friday night, February 23rd, they
found themselves in the midst of the haunted theatre at 226 42nd Street. She
asked the five people in attendance to sit with her on the plastic bags Maria
provided to cover dust and dirt at the foot of the empty stage. Maria showed
them pictures from long ago of the grand opening of the Sam Harris. After meditating alone for a while, my mother announced that
it was the spirit of George M. Cohan who was haunting the remains of the
grand theatre that now lay in ruin. Its tattered curtains obscured the movie
screen, which had been placed in front of it in the days when movies replaced
theatre. The dressing rooms backstage were boarded up. The chairs in the
auditorium were covered with stains and dirt. Yet it was obvious how
beautifully ornate the theatre had once been. The partial remains of a
chandelier were left dangling from the ceiling. But the imagery these
momentous relics invoked had to be set aside to take care of the business at
hand - to assist the lost soul of Cohan in completing the unfinished business
he had returned to deal with. So all five people sat with my mother in a
circle, they quieted themselves, and she led the group in a prayer to the
Universal Source to assist them in being in touch with the spirit. As the group sat quietly holding hands, someone heard the
melody of Yankee Doodle Dandy blaring across the stage... "born on
the fourth of July!" Like most Americans, they had, of course, heard the
song many times, but had never known its true origins. It was a song that had
epitomized Cohan's sprightly, energetic performance style. An immensely
popular songwriter of the early century, Cohan had the ability to put into
words and music what all of America was subconsciously feeling. He took the
old traditional tune from the 1600's and made it his own. He was awarded the
Congressional Medal by President Roosevelt for writing Over There and It's
a Grand Old Flag. Cohan complemented his commercial appeal by claiming to
be born on the fourth of July, when he was actually born on the 3rd! He even
built a large theatre on Broadway with his name over the canopy and decorated
it with American flags and other regalia symbolizing his career, and came to
be known as the King of Broadway. The mood was so powerful and intense that mom's friend
Glennis, a young executive from North Carolina who was in attendance, started
blurting out messages from some unknown source, "I see an hourglass.
Time is running out. We must change our priorities in this country!"
Maria Alvarado told us she saw the spirit of a young, blonde-haired woman
dressed in a beautiful flowing ball gown from the early 90's. It was
magnificent with its gold fabrics and ornamentation. Glennis also saw the
same woman on that stage. My mother could feel George M. Cohan reaching out from the
Great Beyond. She heard him say that Maria (in her past life) had been his
wife in the early 1900's and she sensed that he was unhappy about the fact
that people had not taken an interest in restoring the old theatre. Interrupted by the noise of the construction and sanitation
workers in the area, hurriedly, my mother asked Maria to get up on the stage
and sing to try to bring back the mood of that by-gone era when Cohan was
king. Shy and hesitant, she walked on stage but once she arrived, felt quite
comfortable as though she belonged there. My mother told her to sing the first
song that came to mind, so she began to sing a song from the musical Grease
entitled Sandy and then Maria said "Sandra Dee." My mom and
Glennis looked at each other as if, indeed, they had seen a ghost. She sang,
"Sandy, you can make a new start..." It had been a message to me,
Sandra D., as I am known by my married name... for I was the one who should
have been but was not in attendance. Then she started singing America, the Beautiful,
"America! America! God shed His grace on thee!" (Maybe a message
from Jaco.) It was haunting and exciting all at once! Suddenly the door
slammed and the workers were back. There was not enough time and the mood had
been shattered. So they decided it was time to leave. Maria stepped down from
the stage as though she were returning to the present after traveling in
time. As my mother started to join the others who were already walking out
the lobby door, she had a deep psychic impression of a man in a dark suit. At
first he stood to the right of the stage close to the door connected to the
only occupied room. When she started to leave, he turned and walked away
sadly saying to himself, "They didn't get the whole message! They won't
do anything about my situation, my dilemma!" My mother and her friends returned to their hotel on 7th
Avenue where she was to go into a full trance, with the help of her detective
friend, Howie Comen, to bring through her guardian angel, St. Catherine of
Siena. She lay down on the sofa, sang and prayed and gave St. Catherine
permission to take over her body, mind and spirit to bring forth messages
from George M. Cohan. The following is the transcription of that evening's
trance session: Howie: What is the gist of what happened tonight, St.
Catherine, and what is Cohan trying to tell us? Catherine: This man is a very high spirit. He was a high
spirit when he died. He may have had a very physical side and he may not have
had very much patience; however, he had loyalty beyond belief. This person
will never reincarnate because he is out there with other angels and can
manifest when he wishes to. He is an angel with a message [for the modern
age]. And we believe this to be his message: It is very important that the people of America, especially
in New York City, to start looking at their values and priorities and
especially at the creative side of themselves. Catherine: He is not necessarily attached to that building;
however, he has been married to that young woman Maria in a past life. She
was his first wife. He is not so attached to the building, although he wishes
that the building be restored as a legacy to all the artists, such a landmark
to New York City; and he believes that there are people who would be
interested in doing just that. He believes the place could be used for talent
shows for young talent to help get started in show business. He feels there
can be grants from the government, from the National Endowment for the Arts
and from wealthy stars and he wishes that this be publicized so that these
people come forward to exercise their abilities. Howie: Should we go back there tomorrow? Catherine: It matters little whether she returns; however,
much work needs to be done to get this information out. I wish Elizabeth to
go into other theatres and tune in to other frustrated spirits who have the
same desires as this man. [She did indeed do so in the future.] Howie: What about the disasters predicted for New York City.
What does George M. Cohan think of the fate of the city? Catherine: These disasters could be prevented if everyone got
back to the "grand old flag" and does not practice far right-wing
or far left-wing beliefs but walked harmoniously with truth and love down the
middle of the path. Most of all, he wishes you to get in touch with your
creative side which could bring nothing but positivity to the planet and to
America. * * * They looked out the window of their hotel overlooking Times
Squares and were amazed that the one hotel they chose out of all the places
to stay in New York City was the one opposite the proud statue of George M.
Cohan at Duffy Square - the only memorial to any Broadway performer ever
erected in the famous district. Mom looked over at Howie, her close friend
and the one private investigator who had worked with her on many hauntings in
the past and said, "Well, Howie, it's all in a day's work! Who're ya
gonna call? - Ghostbusters!" * * * My mother flew back home to Charleston. A few days later I was
once again driving over the 59th Street Bridge one day late in February, when
I heard her voice over CBS radio telling about how George M. Cohan's ghost is
haunting the Sam Harris Theatre. The first segment was quite impressive - how
she was telling all of New York City to get back to the good old American
values for which these things stood. Watching the skyline fog go by was truly
surrealistic and amazing as I listened to my mother speaking to all of New
York City - doing just what Mr. Cohan had instructed her to do from the
spirit realm. The announcer spoke: George M. Cohan takes an encore, long after his death, though.
WCBS reporter, Lou Miliano, says the great songwriter and entertainer is
haunting the old Sam Harris Theatre off Times Square. ["Give My Regards
to Broadway" sung by James Cagney begins in the background.] Give my regards to
Broadway Remember me to
Herald Square, Tell all the gang
at 42nd Street That I will soon
be there. Whisper of how I'm
yearning To mingle with the
old-time throng, Give my regards to
old Broadway And say that I'll
be there ere long. ...immortalized by Jimmy Cagney, George M. Cohan virtually owned
Broadway during the first half of this century and now says medium, Elizabeth
Baron, "He's back!" She sensed his spirit during a visit to the
abandoned Sam Harris Theatre on 42nd Street. "This theatre represents all the different theatres here.
He wishes that the building be restored as a legacy to all artists such as a
landmark to New York City," my mother responded over the air. Then Lou said, "Maria Alvarado runs the Times Square
Tourism Office. She's seen him and she believes." "I think that would be the ultimate - his ultimate
dream," she said. "And then maybe he could finally rest in
peace." Alvarado may have more at stake, Baron says she was Cohan's
first wife - in another life!" * * * My own long lost heart still lives in those old, dead, forgotten
theatres of the past. I've often felt the strange attraction I know must have
been that I'd performed in these theatres in a past life. I should have been
there the night my mother was bringing George M. Cohan through. Fate had it
that I couldn't attend; but his message came through Maria as she sang the
song from Grease - Sandy. I knew why those old theatres were haunted. I knew it the
minute I'd heard the news broadcast there's a ghost in Times Square. It's the
dead and gone vaudevillians longing for the old way to return - probably the
small-time entertainers who never made the big-time, who never got to play
those beautiful, majestic theatres of The Great White Way. And George M.
Cohan stands representative of the hearts and souls of all the old Broadway
performers who "liked clean plays with a dash of melodrama, fast
dancing, and easy, lilting tunes" - a far cry from what Broadway and
Times Square is reputed to provide today. Longacre Square, now known as Times Square - 42nd Street/The
Great White Way - with the addition of several other theatres built in 42nd
Street later, the New Amsterdam and the Lyric made the block
between Seventh Avenue and Eighth Avenue one of the finest in the city and a
splendid part of the theatre district. People treated the block with
considerable respect. They dressed for opening nights. They arrived
ceremoniously. Even the ushers were splendidly bedizened. In 1910, there were
forty first-class theatres in the Broadway district, and the phrase
"42nd Street and Broadway" stood for revelry and delight. Broadway, in 1900, was 1-1/2 miles long and there were 16
theatres. In 1950, it decreased to less than half that length and there were
only 3 theatres left on Broadway. In 1974 - nine blocks and two theatres were
all that remained of the glorious district Cohan once knew and loved. Now Times Square is trashed and the only successful theatres
are attended by tourists and rich people. The ghosts are sad that the middle
class you and me and our neighbors - can't see the show the way it used to be
- great, affordable, family entertainment. I knew what I'd feel if I'd walked
through that old theatre - days from long lost memories I can't explain.
Although there is hope since it was announced in the 14 March, 1995 issue of The
New York Post that "Mayor Giuliani and the City Council... came up
with a deal some say will make Times Square virtually porn-free." The day after the trance, I drove all over 42nd Street making
up show tunes, singing, and filming the cold, dreary, sorry sites of The
Amsterdam, The Lyric and the other former theatres standing there in wait for
all the big, cold business people with their big, cold corporations to come
in and make it a high-tech bazaar, a Mecca of glitzy computerized images as
catastrophically ending and unwelcome to the ghosts as the '94 Woodstock
festival was to the left-over hippies of the 60's. I'm almost positive Cohan
was singing my sentiments - these words - through me that day: New York ain't
been good to me... but I love it
still. I'm not willing to
give up. That is, not until all the clouds
fall from the sky and in the hall's
not one dry eye. New York ain't
been good to me... but I love it
still! Broadway's peak was from 1917 to 1928. During that time, there
were approximately 70-80 theatres in New York. But thirty some years later,
the statue of Cohan was dedicated the year in which I was born which was also
considered the beginning of the end of the "Era of Good Feelings." Oscar Hammerstein II's most visible legacy to Broadway - a statue
of George M. Cohan - illustrates the endemic irony of Broadway; the greater
man celebrates the lesser. At the tip of a tiny, slatternly park at Broadway
and 46th Street, the old Yankee Doodle man carries a cane in one hand and a
soft hat in the other and looks over the theatre district with a leisurely
air of approval. But the Broadway the statue looks at began to lose its
cheerful personality about the time the statue was erected - another irony.
By the time of the 70's, the territory had faded to the point where Cohan
would not have recognized it. Business corporations with monumental assets
and no interest in people intruded on a neighborhood that had once been
congenial to the public. The glorious buildings were replaced by structures "that
represent a cold, self-possessed industry... totally detached from the crowds
that stream through Times Square." These places are houses and not
homes. Theatre-goers are now customers and not guests. Unlike during its
heyday, the '70s saw many theatres dark during long periods which was like a
bad omen to these ghosts that lingered. In 1972 some enthusiastic theatre owners rescued the Ritz on
48th Street from several years of neglect and some pornography, and
reconditioned it at considerable expense. Its first production closed after
one performance. Its second had two performances. It had a tenant for five
weeks during the next season... Herman Levin, producer of the legendary
"My Fair Lady," believes that the day is not too distant when ten
theatres will be enough... Broadway had always been risqué and scandalous
and, when possible, shocking. But it had never been degenerate until Times
Square became a garbage dump for sex. We stood in front of the Cohan statue where there was a
massive line all the way down the block waiting to buy tickets. It's the
story of New York City any more - lines, lines, and more lines. New Yorkers
are forced to waste so much of their lives waiting on line! And people have
to drum up a week's wages to go out for one night of theatre. At the turn of the century, theatre-going was a casual
diversion: tickets cost $1.50 or $2. In the 20's and 30's musical shows
charged $4 or $5 for the best seats, and ticket prices for dramas were $2.50
and $3... The common assumption was that a night at the theatre would cost a
man and his wife about $50 for two good orchestra seats, two dinners at an
attractive restaurant, taxi fares, and a baby-sitter's fee. In the 70's it
was $75. In the 80's... All the way back in 1926, people were noting the decline of
the legitimate stage and attributed it to the movies. I suppose it was bound
to happen. Nowadays people are lazier and would rather sit in front of a
video, TV, the many cable channels, etc. It takes so much more to entertain
people these days than a song and a dance. We can't imagine what it felt like
to be a vaudevillian traveling the country, living out of a trunk, doing 3-4
shows a day. In the 30's some of the greatest stars that we still know and
love today were mourning the death of vaudeville. In the late 70's when I was
coming of age, I remember writing an essay about vaudeville and being filled
with the deep desire to go to New York to meet and talk with what was left of
the old performers in the broken tenement buildings. Now they're gone. And those
days are gone. But what the high-financiers of today fail to realize and the
young performers will never learn is that theatre, small time, big time,
vaudeville houses were valuable training grounds where a novice could hone
his/her craft and become yesterday's professionals of the caliber we'll never
know today. I spent my entire 26 weeks in vaudeville learning things I
have never forgotten. I was fascinated from the beginning by the sincerity of
these performers and have never ceased to be fascinated. I would rush to the
theatre on Monday - when we joined a new bill - hurry into my make-up and
stand in the wings watching the other acts. In fact, I was seldom out of the
wings except for the 15 minutes when I had to be on the stage myself...
Vaudeville was a real show business. I have never seen any phase of the
theatre in which everything counted so much. George M. Cohan's name was Keohane - George Michael
"Cohan." 1910 to 1915 saw his greatest successes. In 1904 he formed
a partnership with Sam H. Harris (of the theatre in which my mother walked
through that night), which was dissolved in 1920 and reunited again in 1937.
He was a man close to my heart, which is why when I heard his ghost had come
back to Times Square, I felt deeply resentful and tired of the life I'd once
had in me. I didn't know why I was feeling that way about someone I had such
an optimistic feeling about until I read the following: During the last ten years of his life, Cohan, a man who gave
affection and also inspired it, was disillusioned and embittered. He was
resentful of a theatre in which he was no longer interested. He was tired,
too. Tired of the stage and of life. He did not want more than the sixty-four
years, which had been given him. He seldom ventured west of Fifth Avenue where
he lived and died there. My mother felt the intense desire to visit St.
Patrick's Cathedral that day she was here and I learned later that was where
Cohan's body was brought to wake after death. Just before the break of day, on November 5, 1942, George lay
quite still. He was gone, after sixty-four years and four months of life...
[He died at 993 Fifth Avenue.] A great throng was packed into Fifth Avenue in
the vicinity of St. Patrick's Cathedral... Thousands watched in tense and
reverent silence as the bronzed-copper casket bearing the body of George M.
Cohan was borne up the broad steps and into the church. Inside the Cathedral,
as along the Avenue, there were people of all ages, creeds, classes -
Catholics, Jews, Protestants - and from all walks of life - civic and state
leaders, governors and mayors, doctors, bankers, lawyers, industrialists,
teachers, writers, composers. Crowded into the pews were people, great and
small, of this man's own profession - the theatre. Only the solemn high
requiem mass in the traditional form of the Roman Catholic rite. * * * On April 21, 1995, my mother returned to New York City. We had
two appointments with literary agents in Manhattan. In between our
appointments, we ran through the rain to revisit the Sam Harris Theatre in
Times Square. Maria was still there as were all the others whose job it was
to rebuild and plan anew to improve the impoverished area. She threw her arms
around my mother and welcomed us to the theatre. This time I had a chance to
walk through the dark auditorium where Cohan's lively feet had once tapped
gracefully across the stage of this theatre named for his good friend and
partner. The balcony was dark and the absent chandeliers hung imaginary and
ghost-like above. I smelled it and drank it all in. I knew I'd been there in
other lifetimes. Maria told us the hauntings had ceased since my mother had
been there and gone. In a trance session, the following evening, St.
Catherine, through my mother, reminded us that George M. Cohan need not be
exorcised for he is an angel who lingers to help. * * * PHANTOMS OF THE PALACE THEATRE On October 6, 1995 my mother visited the Palace Theatre in
Times Square. The Palace is the famous Broadway theatre, which opened in 1913
and became the Mecca of "two-a-day" vaudeville. She came to the
theatre at the request of some of her clients, many of the cast and crew
members of the Disney production currently playing there - Beauty and the
Beast. During several readings with her clients, the spirit of Judy
Garland had tried to come through to communicate messages for her daughter
from the Great Beyond. One client, it turned out, indeed, was a friend of
Liza Minelli's and could conceivably relay a message to her from her late
mother. Once my mother arrived, however, what transpired there on the great
stage where so many legendary performers had played for 82 years, was not
exactly what anyone had expected. Having earlier this year already revealed the "Ghost in
Times Square" at the Sam Harris Theatre to be the great George M. Cohan,
delivering his messages over the radio airwaves to all of New York City, my
mother was quickly building her reputation as not only an incredibly
effective exorcist, but also the trance medium through whom Broadway ghosts
were just "dying" to communicate. In order to understand the messages she brought forth and, in
fact, to confirm some of the things she said, it was necessary for me to do a
bit of research on the history of the Palace Theatre. The Palace had its shaky opening in March of 1913, criticized
by the show business trade press as well as most insiders. They all predicted
its imminent doom to its owner, E.F. Albee, builder of great theatres and the
dominating force in the history of the Palace. Key to the Palace story,
Albee's reign as czar outlasted many rivals, though his ambition and ruthless
methods cost him friends and associates. He was William Morris's foe and
arch-enemy. Morris was against Albee's monopolies and fought to increase
actors' rights. Albee was just the opposite and was very abusive toward the
performers; his name, however, was synonymous with vaudeville and his power
unmatched. By 1923, even though he had a black reputation, he governed the
entertainment of approximately 4,000,000 people. But most people that knew
him were aware that he "masked his treachery under a cloak of
benevolence." His interest turned to hatred, which he nurtured until his
death. This one cruel man held the fate of so many performers in
vaudeville/theatre in his very greedy hands. Could he have been the cause of
all the pain that channeled through my mother that day? It is no small irony
that she is now signed to the company founded by his arch-enemy, William
Morris. The Palace was the highest aspiration of so many performers
all through the 20's until it floundered to a halt on July 9, 1932 when the
last straight vaudeville show played there. Then movies took over as the
"trunks got dustier, stage door johnnies dwindled and backstage lights
almost dimmed out forever in the twilight of show business as the old
vaudevillians knew it." When vaudeville faded, the Palace declined and
started booking lesser-known talent and barely survived with a
"film-and-vaudeville" policy; then, soon after, it was motion
pictures only. The Palace's glow died down until, like Sarah Bernhardt,
("one of the greatest actresses of all time, made the Palace bills
successful and helped establish American vaudeville") before her, Judy
Garland brought back the "two-a-day" and revived the Palace
resulting in one of the most memorable comebacks in Broadway history. She
broke all records. "Since I was a kid, the one thing I've dreamed of was
playing the Palace," she tearfully told her audience. My mother was led to the Palace Theatre perhaps by the spirit
of Judy Garland, maybe by hosts of other spirits who have tried to return to
complete unfinished business - to heal the pain of the lives they lived on
earth. I can only imagine how let down these show people felt when vaudeville
died. During the session on the stage of the theatre when my mom's earthly
body cried in agony, "There are too many of them!" as if to be in
touch with the horrible pain of all those who had been before, I really
believe I felt the presence of many small time vaudevillians who had never
made the big time. She said she couldn't recognize some of the 103 spirits
that appeared before her behind a gate. (I thought their spirits probably
remained at the Palace - where they longed to be in life. Once a showperson,
always a showperson; it's in the blood... and soul.) * * * My mom sat down yogi-style and tuned in as the small crowd of
bystanders sat in the wings of the majestic stage. All the pain of the many
lingering spirits of show business began funneling through the haze of time
and lives gone by; and from other dimensions, they thought they would finally
be allowed to speak. But she just couldn't stand the pain and it was evident
that she couldn't go on too long trying to bring them through. Her spirit
guide, St. Catherine of Siena, would not allow them to come directly through
her. At first, she saw all the spirits on the stage behind a gate that was
holding them back. Many of these lost souls were so full of pain, worry and
unhappiness that might cause her body harm should they all try to come
through at once... it would have overwhelmed her. As it was, she could hardly
contain herself as she wept uncontrollably. I'd never before witnessed such
pain in anyone's face as I saw that day. It was the cumulative pain of so
many lives gone by. Then the messages came. Mostly in bits and pieces, she tried
to utter them through her tears of obvious confusion, having opened herself
up to a space too many souls inhabited, stuck there by their own stubbornness
in not wanting to leave the theatre. I knew no medium on earth could handle
that many souls with all their lifetimes of hurt and rejection remembered
having dedicated themselves to the stage. It was difficult to understand the
significance of these messages at the time; but soon after the session had
ended, much of what my mother said was confirmed to be true by the stage
manager and others in the cast and crew as well as my own research into these
matters. • The first thing she said was something undistinguishable
about June Haver, an old movie star. • Then she kept crying out, over and over, "There are so
many of them!" telling us they were standing at a gate or in a cage and
that they are all so troubled. "They need your prayers badly," she
implored. It makes so much sense that there would be so many troubled souls
on that stage considering the way they were treated, controlled and limited
by Albee. • As the session went on, it was evident that the leading
spirit, or, rather, the most dominant, was that of Bing Crosby. She told us
his soul was in great pain over the way he had treated his children in life.
He, too, needed prayers to take him into the Light. He said he wants to get
rid of his grief and she saw his soul being cleansed as he spoke. She
stressed how sorry he was for the way he treated his sons. He had made himself
the center of their lives, forced them to watch him perform and mentioned
something about a high chair he had put them in as a kind of cruel
punishment. He was evidently remembering very telling incidents. • Jimmy Durante came forth and made silly gestures and then
told her that Bob Hope would be passing on shortly. • She said someone was cursing "Les." Then she said
specifically, "Lana is cursing Les." Assuming she meant Lana
Turner, who had recently died, we researched a little about her life and found
a book written by her daughter, Cheryl. In this book, she told how her
stepfather, Lex Barker, molested her. (My mother thought she'd said
"Les," when she was actually saying something less common -
"Lex.") We believe since Lana just passed over into the spirit
realm recently that this is whom she was cursing. Lana was significant, too,
since she was Judy Garland's neighbor at one time in Hollywood and they'd
remained good friends from their youth when they were both MGM contract
players and went to school on the studio lot together with other future stars
such as Mickey Rooney and Ava Gardner. Cheryl and Liza Minelli played
together often, according to "Detour Hollywood," Cheryl's book. • She stressed that these spirits were all standing in a blue,
healing place but that they were stuck there and needed help to go on. • Someone who was like Houdini appeared in a kind of box
stating over and over, "It didn't work." He was trying to get a
group together to help his country to be in the Light. (Houdini was born in
Budapest, Hungary.) During the trance, later, the stage manager handed me a
photocopy of a Houdini story from a book about ghosts haunting theatres. It
was very interesting that he'd brought a copy of the story with him while all
at once this message was coming from my mother. He went on to mention an
uncle, father and brother who must not be forgotten. The message, "It
didn't work" is significant because of the mystery surrounding Houdini's
death. Some say he died of a ruptured appendix caused by a punch in the
stomach (he'd been taken off-guard by some boys who were attempting to
challenge his supposedly invincible constitution). Some say he'd gone too far
with his tricks when he was chained inside a water tank. Mrs. Harry Houdini issued a statement December, 1936: "I wish to thank all the individuals and magic societies
that joined in the final Houdini séance that encircled the world October 31,
1936. Those names and records will live forever in the Houdini room in the
Congressional Library at Washington, D.C. Since the failure of the ten-year
test and the seventeen séances held simultaneously in all parts of the world
with Hollywood, it is my opinion that all concerned have struck a mighty
world-wide blow at superstition." • She received a message that there is a girl from another
country who performs on that stage at night who will be dealing with
Hollywood. They warned that it is not right for her. They kept saying,
"Hollywood is corrupt. Hollywood is mean and cruel." Then came the
message: May 1998... so much destruction. Later, the stage manager told us
that during May of 1988 the Palace was remodeled and there had been a
lot of destruction there; but my mother believes they were referring to
future destruction, as the date would indicate. • Marilyn Monroe appeared as a little girl. They revealed that
she had been murdered by someone sticking something in her rectum. They said
she did not deserve to die, that she was innocent. In spirit, she no longer
wanted to be a woman and appeared as a pretty little girl, spreading flowers
around to everyone. It is how she prefers to see herself, how she prefers to
be. She was holding a sort of Barbie-like doll that looked like her. We knew
it was significant that Marilyn's spirit had come when the stage manager told
us the story of how Joe Kennedy had taken over the Palace and was known for
trysting in some of the upstairs offices. Marilyn might have been taking the
opportunity to convey that her death was connected with the Kennedys. • Someone sang a song in Japanese - "America." Some
of us who had been involved in Jaco Pastorius's spirit communicating from the
afterlife, knew it was probably Jaco reminding us he was still there as he
referred to the success of his c.d. in Japan. He would always come and play
"America" on his bass. • My mother then saw seven people on the stage - seven who
didn't belong there. She saw a train and gun shots. Then she saw a beautiful
young woman with long hair trying to reach her mother. My mother didn't recognize
her, but now thinks it may be one of the victims of the Long Island Railroad
massacre. • She was told that the drowning of Natalie Wood was actually
a murder, that she had been pushed overboard. • Generally, she said, she saw very little that was positive
there on the Palace Theatre stage. She stressed that it is sometimes
confusing since there are still so many people performing there daily; she
might be picking up on their vibrations along with all the spirits that
linger. She said that all these people are still trying to reach up to a
higher dimension and can't get there until they make it right with the people
there at the Palace. They remain because they never went anywhere else; they
never grew away from that space. She asked us all to help them with our
prayers. * * * There were as many as 103 spirits on the Palace Theatre stage
that October day. St. Catherine would not allow any past the gate and my
mother could not recognize a lot of them... and there were so many. Bing
Crosby was the dominant spirit, desperate to let everyone know he is sorry
for the way he treated his sons. Upon learning this, my mom tried to reach
his sons, Gary and Phillip, only to find that Gary had died of lung cancer
only two months prior. Some of his last words were filled with the anger he
had toward his father and the desire to release it all. Bing's other son,
Phillip, has gone into seclusion; though we'd like to reach him with the
messages from his father that may help him to release his anger and the pain
that might have killed his brother. Today, the Palace Theatre is home to Disney's Beauty and
the Beast. Many of the cast and crew gather each and every Sunday night
after performances to meditate and pray for the spirits who need their love
and parenting that they may one day be released and go into the Light. d
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