DISCLAIMER: These psychic impressions and drawings are purely for helping solve these crimes [and entertainment purposes]. If they help and anyone wants to research them, or ask me more questions regarding them [if you or someone you know is actually working on the cases] – I can be reached here or facebook.
SOLVING CRIMES: Lauren Spierer – 2011
Lauren Spierer, a student at Indiana University, spent last Thursday night partying with her friend Corey Rossman at Kilroy’s Sports Bar. They arrived at her apartment at 2:30 a.m. the next morning. Surveillance cameras show them leaving 10 minutes later.
She disappeared from the face of the earth on June 3rd, 2011.
Here’s what I have been getting on this case:
Two men in a pick-up truck.
Both men have something to do with mines [i.e. coal or underground mines of some sort]
The men, or one of them, lives near and/or knows about an old mine shaft, or entrance to an actual mine.
Lauren is head up in this mine entrance.
She may have been alive, at first when placed there [not 100% on that one]
The mine entrance is near the home of one or both of these men
The mine entrance has wood boards marking it, although overgrown with tree branches.
I get some dampness associated, like it has rained or water has settled at the bottom of this area.
The mine entrance seems closed, no longer used and/or filled in below Lauren’s body.
Kids play here.
Three to four trees surround it and one tree feels out-of-place, i.e., a palm tree, which doesn’t belong.
Here’s a drawing of the area:
SOLVING CRIMES: JonBenet Ramsey – 1996
This case hit me similar to the Etan Patz case … via a dream. Certainly this sad story happened in my adulthood and when we had more DNA evidence, etc.
She was found dead, in the basement, the day after a Christmas Party and the day after Christmas.
What I got from the case, just from my psychic vision was similar to what investigators have said:
She was familiar with the person.
The dream I had was on purpose. One night, a few years ago, perhaps in 2006, the 10th Anniversary, I asked the soul of JonBenet to show who actually killed her.
The dream: As I fell asleep with that thought, I dreamt I was the child. At least, I saw the dream through the eyes of the child and had my own mature thoughts.
So, the party has finished and this man, a friend of her parents, is still in the house. He may have even fallen asleep on the couch. When I am in the dream, the family is off to bed and Mr. Ramsey is telling JonBenet to come up to bed. She is running through the house and saying something to the guest – who has awoke. I think I hear someone telling him to wake up and go home.
He, the person, is groggy. JonBenet says something about showing him what she made or something, before he goes and tells this man – whom I, Angela Theresa, see looking a lot like “Mr. Clean” – JonBenet takes Mr. Cleans hand and leads him through the house.
At some point, I feel like everyone is in bed. And JonBenet is alone in the house with Mr. Clean. Not sure why he hasn’t left or if he came back in (broke in?). JonBenet is running, once again, through the house laughing, like it’s a game, and Mr. Cleans eyes get fierce.
I wake up about this time and draw the picture of him, gathering more psychic details, when I wake up and here’s the drawing.
DISCLAIMER: Yesterday, when I originally posted this story — from the pages of my memories, and my drawings, from some 30-something years of keeping to myself. Well, I contacted Mr. Patz so that if any of the information I picked up years ago would be of interest or ring some sort of bell; I just wanted him to know. This was not wise. I offended him. And I, in no way, wish to add to the pain of the Patz family. They have been living with this tragedy for 30-something years.
Thus, first, my public apology for contacting Mr. Patz. I really should have left him to his privacy. And apologies for anything I published or said that has and/or will offend you.
Mr. Patz (Stan) contacted me, same day, and said he preferred I take down the whole article; and corrected me on information (from my cloudy memory) which I quoted incorrectly.
I wrote him back to let him know, I’d like to keep the article posted and remove the parts that offended him most — the YouTube links bothered him [and I understand why — they have sales ads] and me misquoting him, also understandable.
Mr. Patz informed me there has never been a lead, reference or even a thought of Etan being in Syracuse, NY. So, there you have it — it is just my dreams, impressions that picked up Syracuse.
As a psychic, this case, which happened when I was just a teen [living my high school life far away – Phoenix, AZ], really developed my psychic crime-solving gift. I have only told a few friends about my early images of how Etan Patz was killed, his age at his death and where his body might be.
In those years, I had never been in New York City – my first time would be 1984 – this case moved me. Soon after it was public, I had dreams of being in a car, with other children, on the West Side Highway [at that time I didn’t know it was the West Side Highway, either]. I just dreamt of being on a semi-circular roadway looking through a window at a big city…surrounded by water and bridges. Although, I am not sure it is related to Etan Patz.
One night, all those years ago around 1981 (the year I graduating high school), I had a dream [this was also more recognition of my medium gifts]:
In my dream, I found myself sitting on a ratty old couch in a messy old single room apartment. Sitting beside where about four to six children, boys and girls. When I “awoke” in this drab, dirty room I immediately stood up to face all these children – ages 6 to 12 – and asked them who they were and why they were here. All of them were very silent and had the large hungry eyes of starving children in Third World countries. Their clothes were tattered and their demeanor that of abused children – no tears, just large, sad eyes. Not one of them spoke.
I kept questioning, wondering why no one would answer me. Then, one of them, about 8-years-old, sitting between the other children was familiar to my eyes.
“You’re Etan Patz!”
The boy nodded that he was, indeed, Etan.
I looked at the other children and it came to me, “Oh my God, you’re all dead, aren’t you?”
The children nodded.
For whatever reason, they were unable to speak to me out loud. I found they could hear my questions in their mind and would answer with their yes and no head nods.
I looked at Etan and said, “This is where you all are? This apartment?”
Etan gave me the affirmative.
“Can you tell me where ‘this apartment’ is located?”
Etan stood up and walked to the front door. Right beside the door was a light switch. Etan pointed to it and it turned into a moving, virtual reality map – similar to today’s touch screen computers [this was 1981, though] – and I could see maps moving quickly until it landed on New York. Etan pointed at a name on the map. I expected New York City, but it was different.
Etan pointed harder at the name on the map, which I had trouble reading: I didn’t know New York names and places well, at that time, at least. I saw the word Sycamore. Etan disagreed with his head nod.
I asked him, “It sounds like Sycamore, right?”
He seemed disappointed, it was the only way I could read the word,at that time.
“Etan, is your body in this apartment? I want to tell your parents.”
Etan told me no . . . with his head. And again pointed on the light switch. The picture went from the map of this place I was calling Sycamore, NY – like a film. I saw two brick buildings, white, a few stories high, side by side, same size, same look. In front of it were some fields of grass/dirt and one tree [perhaps, a sycamore tree?].
Etan pointed to about the third story window, to show me where this apartment was from the outside of the building. Then, for where his body was, he pointed to the field area, very near the one tree.
I asked him how old he was when he was killed. He was 8-years-old, although he disappeared at age 6. I picked up more information telepathically from Etan and the other children.
The man who killed them lived in the building in which they were [in my dream]. Etan confirmed [in my dream]:
Etan was familiar with the man when he intercepted him in New York.
The man abused boys, mostly, yet would hurt girls, too.
I promised to remember the information given when I woke up – I had realized it was a dream.
So, when I woke up, I asked Etan Patz to draw through my hands about all the information.
I have had these drawings for years and was always scared to share it with anyone:
I was a teenager and who would believe me
It would be awful if law enforcement dug up a campus and found nothing just based on my impressions
I would be accused of being an opportunist.
Yesterday, number three happened. Etan’s father thought I was just seeking instant fame and/or God knows what. I’m not, at least, not about this situation. If my impressions can find Etan Patz, fine. And if my impressions do lead to him, I don’t care if they ever say my name or not. As for money, I don’t ask for money for missing children cases; nevertheless, if a reward or business compensation [where businesses are involved] is offered, I would accept monetary compensation should my impressions directly lead to the recovery of a child and/or solving a crime.
>> Yes, I am in the Psychic/Medium business, as well. Since I cannot take on every case, I will help when and where I can [with missing children only]. As I did for the Maine Police Department in finding a missing child (deceased). My name was never mentioned, I never visited Maine or Canada (where I told them they’d find the missing child — and they did), and I have not received one bit of money from that case. <<
Still, this is NOT my goal or purpose in posting or sharing my findings [financial gain or fame — although, I am, with my blog, advertising my gifts for profit]. I am sharing these [drawing and insights] for FREE so a missing child can come home and/or a crime can be solved.
Thus, I kept them [the drawings, psychic impressions & dreams] all these years and now it’s time, with a place (my blog) for me to finally share them.
THE DRAWINGS: They are drawn from a child’s hand, Etan Patz, as I, basically, in 1981, channeled him to draw them for me. I have found, since I have actually helped in a couple of cases with the police in recent years, I can draw pictures based on what I pick up from dead children.
BACK TO THE STORY: Years later, when I moved to New York to attend college (1984) – I learned my mistake with Sycamore. Because I hadn’t heard of it, a friend whom I showed him the drawings, told me it is in Syracuse, NY.
The information from my friend:
It is the college campus and the buildings were part of the college there.
The room I described, he told me, was what the dorm rooms look like inside.
The building was where the staff would live.
The field has since been built-up and I didn’t hear of them finding bodies or remains.
Although, Etan told me he is buried near this building(s).
My friend told me that these buildings, the original college buildings, were torn down.
If these impressions and drawings help solve the crime, I would be glad to work, even anonymously, with anyone out there working on the case.
Coming up, in another blog postings, my drawings from the Jon Benet Ramsey case and the recent case of Lauren Spierer (which I should post next so they can, possibly, find her).
I did contact AMW.com and they informed me they do not take psychic impressions on cases.
Train tracks which bisect the city are two blocks from the dorms.
Even though this is a house, it is sort of how I saw the building(s) in my dream. This photograph and the above caption was taken in Syracuse, NY.
The other photo, from Syracuse, NY (near the dorms) is a pretty good image of the field I saw where the children are buried [should my dream have any truth in it]. I saw only one tree and remember, my dream took place in 1981.
Angels, Punks & Raging Queens
By Angela Theresa Egic
(my original title)
A few weeks ago, someone I used to call a friend, posted in a public forum that I, Angela Theresa “Curry’s Angel” Collins-Egic, am just “not that memorable”; also, I apparently “lack charisma” to boot.
Since I originally penned this article (last week) — a little glitch in my life [an abnormal mammogram and upcoming needle biopsy to see if its benign or malignant] has caused me to think about memory, being remembered, etc. Two and a half years shy of my half-century mark, I’m having the longevity conversation with myself . So, as I chronicle my life, up to now and hopefully well into the next fifty or so years.
The person who said this does need a little introduction, because to most of you, he’s not that memorable, I would think. To most of my readers, he’s unknown, in fact:
He was born Andrew Martin Arnold but solely uses the stage name of Andrew Martin now. It suits him well.
When we met, back in 1985…I thought he was a 17-year-old girl. Andrew would tell you the same; that he looked like a 17-year-old girl.
For a few of those youthful years, Andrew did start wearing women’s clothing, taking my hand-me-downs, in fact; and marketed his transvestite image. He utilized my talents and Susie “Squeaky” Schwartzberg’s talent to do two cabaret acts at a venue called Jason’s Park Royal. The first one titled: THE LADY AND HIS MUSIC.
He was Miss Andrew, in every sense of the word. A talented, off-the-wall and interesting young gay man.
To some degree, he and I were as close as any two friends could be. Andrew and I met at an 8th Street pizza joint called Bennie’s [worst pizza ever – yet we ate a slice every week]. The day I walked in there, across the street from 8thStreet Playhouse in NYC; on my way to see the NY showing of ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW: I met these two girls, [I thought]; when the very thin, flat-chested one told me her name was “Andrew”. I was a little taken aback. The shorter one, with a tomboyish charm [yet, was obviously female] was “Barbara”.
Really, they didn’t even look related. Nevertheless, they were: fraternal twins.
In 1985, though, Andrew, Barbara and I, and a few others became a gang of misfits, at a place where us misfits fit in. There was the “8th Street Gang [Cast]” and “us”. “Us” who wanted to be in the 8th Street cast—all of us talented enough, yet not popular enough – to Sal Piro, at least. Being that Sal is the President of the Official RHPS Fan Club and cast the floorshow (now called shadowcasts) back then. We were still misfits.
We showed up every week, though, at 8th Street Playhouse – Miss Andrew, Barbara Arnold, Susie “Squeaky” Schwartzberg, Phil Dejean, Shawn Rozsa, Mad Man Mike, Andy Grondahl, Hawkeye, A.J. and many more. Since Sal seemed to have blacklisted quite a few of us from being in the popular 8th Street cast…I found us another way!
I moved to Brooklyn and heard about a midnight showing of RHPS on Saturday midnight. When I heard the floorshow [shadowcast] was thrown out, I grabbed my mis-fitted friends and swooped in to have our own show. I wanted to have the best cast! A cast that would have people saying we were “as good as the 8th Street cast” or “better than”!
I just wanted Sal to see how talented we were and have him, finally, offer us a role in the big show in Manhattan; or acknowledge us, at the very least.
We put the show together, quickly. I had every intention of playing ‘Magenta’; no one wanted to play ‘Frank N. Furter’, oddly. Inspired by an 8th Street idol of mine, Julie Calabrese, I molded myself into ‘Frank N. Furter’. Oh yes, and my other idol, Dori Hartley. [She, Dori, had moved on with her life before I had arrived in New York, though].
Our (really, my) cast, The Low Down Cheap Little Punks, at Brooklyn’s Marboro Theater, became known as one the best casts in the East coast – comparable to Manhattan’s 8th Street Playhouse! At least, as far as I was concerned! Sal Piro eventually took most of my cast into his cast – so, that tells you something. Some of the top cast members of Sal’s 8th Street group, in 1986, got their start in MY CAST!
As time went on, around 1987, when I began working in a talent agency – we represented Sal Piro – Sal and I started a professional, respectful friendship: I’ve attended many Rocky Horror conventions where Sal and I had some great conversations. My favorite was a Las Vegas convention, in the 90s, when Sal introduced me as “one of the most dedicated” fans of RHPS.
Sal also put me in his 2nd RHPS book Creatures of the Night II;invited me to be part of the first television showing of RHPS at FX Studios [I went as Frank N. Furter, of course]; and Sal asked me take his RHPS items to an Albany, NY convention when he couldn’t attend.
In the early years, I was at every convention from the 10th Anniversary (Beacon Theater) – and where my original costume – “Curry’s Angel” brought me Good Morning America and newspaper reporters and photographer’s interviewing me about “who” I was.
Found out, later, one of the friends’ buzzing about me told the reporters that my real name was Angela Curry . . . and that I was Tim Curry’s real-life niece!!!
I hadn’t even met Tim Curry, at that point!
Nevertheless, the next morning, as my interview aired, millions of viewers thought I was, indeed, Tim Curry’s niece as the name ANGELA CURRY was emblazoned at the bottom part of the screen. Coincidentally, when I finally did met TC, it would be revealed how much I resembled his real-life niece. I believe she, Tim Curry’s real-life niece (he has three); one resembles me [I’m older, I believe]; she, my doppleganger Curry niece, has aged much better than me, though.
About three weeks ago – on the Facebook 8th Street Playhouse page – to be told by Miss Andrew that I am “not that memorable” and that I lack “charisma”, really got up my crawl!
We must also remember, after 1987, Andrew disappeared from the RHPS fan base and refused to be part of any of our conventions, get-togethers, etc. until about 2008 or 2009.
In short, while I was involved, actively from 1983 (AZ) to 1984-1987 (NY) and then from 1988-now at conventions, another stint as ‘Frank N. Furter’ in Arizona in the 90s, made a “rock-u-mentary (1990) w/the AZ group, talked to Tim Curry and had many conversations with Sal Piro, Patricia Quinn and Richard O’Brien and too many cast(s) – all the way to England – and had a RHPS newsletter – fans from as far as Italy and France writing me fan mail . . . Really?! Not memorable? No charisma? Me?
Are you talking to me, Andrew? Unmemorable, little ole me?
Andrew claims “more people” remember him from those days. I might agree with him about that, of course. My argument is NOT the numbers; it’s the words about a personality – no charisma, not very memorable. Are those words you say to a friend? A friend so instrumental in so many memories, my own and in his, and many others!
There are people from “those days” who approach me, remember me, actually . . . whom I cannot, for the life of me, remember at all. BUT, friend or foe, I would never be so rude to say to them: “you’re not very memorable” or “you must’ve lacked charisma”.
Hell, for all I know, they are very memorable and have tons of charisma – I just wasn’t lucky enough to see it and or get to know this great person at the time. My loss.
Which was my point with Andrew Martin, supposedly my friend … he went on to remind me and the group how “everyone remembers him” and “hardly anyone” remembers me. A snob! An ego-maniac.
A very insecure person, envious of my involvement and part of this history. Andrew missed the years between 1987-2007, when we had reunion’s, conventions and were interviewed by German, French and British TV shows and even American specials.
After I blocked him on Facebook – had unfriended him months ago when he posted some rude, jealous and snobby remark on my wall – I actually just feel sorry for him. He is, insecure. He is dysfunctional much more than most of us. I claim to have empathy.
Of course, without proper, professional diagnosis, I can say, from my experience (in life) – I find Andrew shows signs of classic Narcissist Personality Disorder. I had another friend with a professional diagnosis of the disorder – thus, I see the similar signs in Andrew.
This means, I really should be empathetic. Yet, I, too, have my ego and insecurities, as well. I guess we’re all a bit narcissist in the theatre business!
A recent scare, which I’m still dealing with calmly, made me think about . . . well, being remembered, etc. and how we are remembered.
I have no fear of death, itself, yet I don’t want to do it right now. I want to see one hundred years on this earth, I mean, if I’m capable and not crippled up, etc. Yet, as I have had friends pass on – far too many for someone my age – it makes me think about who will remember me? Who will share these memories with me, of me and our times in the 1980s?
If Andrew is right, and I’m not that memorable or charismatic — me being there was all, I don’t know, an illusion.
I thought I finally did fit in. I had found my people – the different, the misfits, the unusual – and now, maybe I am still an alien, the kid easiest to bully, the ugly one, the forgettable one.
Sure, I know it’s not true, really.
Andrew is trying to hurt me to make himself feel better – for his insecurities – yet, he succeeded. As really, no one even stood up for me!
I may understand why, though – Andrew will argue, filibuster – and would’ve pestered anyone who dares speak up for me. Because I spoke up for me and he went on and on until I ended it by blocking him! It just would’ve soothed my ego (of course, not my authentic self as “ego” is the false self) if someone had spoken up for me.
I guess we can say Rocky Horror Picture Show also attracts insecure people all around! Yikes!
P.S. I have to mention tarot cards. Why? Because it’s getting me more traffic than any other search!!! LOL! Over 400 people per week search tarot cards. And, oh yeah, I do tarot card, Archangel Michael Oracle Card & Archangel Oracle Card readings! Email me: “Tarot Readings”–AngelAura28@yahoo.com [Tarot Card Reading: $15.00 Full/In-Depth Reading]