David & parents 1998

Ever wonder what it would be like to know the outcome of the Super Bowl in advance? What power you would have over your friends and associates!
Well, my brother David Guardino, the self-proclaimed World's Greatest Psychic, predicted with certainty that the Philadelphia Eagles would beat San Diego in Super Bowl XVI. He seemed to have no explanation when the San Francisco 49ers walked away with a 26-to-21 win over the Cincinnati Bengals.      
But not to worry. To his followers such a slip-up was easily overlooked. He was, after all, their psychic. Not only that, but David shared his psychic powers with the rich and famous. He was "A Psychic To The Stars." 
            All that remains today of David's sordid career is a tattered old scrapbook bursting with tabloid clippings. It testifies to the gullibility of such celebrities as Willie Nelson, George Burns, and Mohammad Ali. The story goes, he contacted the spirit of Elvis Presley during séances in Graceland Mansion. He also spoke to John Lennon, Marilyn Monroe, and Adolph Hitler.

           David's life was full of contradictions. He was a business consultant who had absolutely no business sense. He used psychic powers to mesmerize people into doing the bidding of others, and claimed to make people wealthy. Yet, he perpetually ran from his debtors and died hopelessly in debt. He counseled people on marriage and relationships, and was married no less than nine times.

            David truly believed he was helping his clients. But, my family knew the shameful truth: David was the world’s biggest fraud.

            My mother, Harriet Guardino, remembers her eldest son as an angelic-looking altar boy in the Roman Catholic Church. As a child he would squish pieces of Wonder Bread between his palms to form a Eucharist, then would pretend to distribute communion.

            Mama, as he fondly called her, believed he would grow up to serve humanity in a big way. He chose darkness instead.

            On May 10, 2007, David died at age 64, penniless and in prison for tax evasion. His body gave out after years of gluttony, prescription drug abuse and self-neglect. In the end he conned nobody, not even himself.

            Then he went to heaven!

            My mother never gave up on seeking her son’s salvation. She kept a journal that detailed the spiritual warfare that she, my sister Pat Cummings, and others, fought on David’s behalf. In 1981, a prayer partner gave her the scripture: “I will give them [him] a heart to know me, that I am the Lord: and they [he] shall be my people, and I will be their [his] God: for they [he] shall return to me with their [his] whole heart.” Jeremiah 24:7

            Mom lived by this and other scriptures twenty four/seven, until the day of David’s deliverance in October 2006, under the care and guidance of a Catholic priest in a Tennessee homeless shelter.

            As a young man, David seemed to have all the right ingredients for success; he was brilliant, handsome, athletic and ambitious. He set a goal early in life to become the richest and most powerful man in the world, and he didn’t care how he would achieve it.

            For more than thirty years, David circulated within the community of the Occult. He catapulted to fame in the mid-1970s with his claim of specializing in psychokinesis, the use of psychic energy to “make things happen.” He bragged that he could bring back an estranged lover and make people rich and famous. His celebrity interviews and annual predictions were published extensively in the National Examiner and other supermarket tabloid magazines.

            David once hinted to Mom that most of the celebrities whom he interviewed did not actually seek his counsel; he bribed their publicists to arrange interviews for him.

            David came to believe he possessed psychic gifts while attending the Naval Officers Candidate School in Newport, Rhode Island. He felt disillusioned by the Vietnam War and went into the Eisenhower Chapel at the base to pray for spiritual direction. He claimed he “flashed in contact with my mother in Eugene, Oregon.”

            Mom corroborates that an event like this did occur, but to her it was a God-breathed gift. For Dave, the experience meant he had special psychic powers. For the next three decades he exploited that experience for his own selfish gain.

            A few years after this event, while employed as a welfare caseworker in Tillamook, Oregon, David began dating a young girl who claimed to be psychic. At the time he was married to the second of what would become a string of eight wives. He took over management of his girlfriend’s psychic business after he realized she was making money. After that relationship failed, he went into the psychic business for himself. For the next seven years he promoted himself as “Jamil”. A 1978 ad in Penthouse and other magazines read: “Psychic can bewitch (mesmerize) loved ones, others to do your bidding: Write requests. Donations appreciated.” His poor money management skills got him deeply into debt, and he moved to Portland to continue his business with two partners.

            David soon ran afoul of the Oregon Deceptive Trade Practices Act, after clients alleged he did not make good on his promises. Those promises included re-growing hair on a bald head, healing a quadriplegic, and enticing a boyfriend into marriage. The Oregon Attorney General Office barred David from conducting his business in Oregon. He blamed his attorney and business partner for duping him into turning over his psychic healing business to them. He moved to Las Vegas in 1980 and continued practicing psychokinetics under his real name.

            David’s ambition to become the richest man in the world drove him to work twenty hours a day. His once-athletic body deteriorated from lack of sleep and exercise, and from unbridled eating and drinking. At one point he weighed nearly 500 pounds and had to sleep sitting up.

            Although Mom has lived to see the fulfillment of the Lord’s promise of David’s salvation, my father, Monte Guardino, died in 2004 with a broken heart. Dad was a full-blooded Sicilian American who grew up in the Catholic Church and never missed Mass.        

            The family used to joke about Dad being a member of the Sicilian Mafia. About the closest he ever came to being a Mafioso was at Halloween when he would dress up as The Godfather. But David capitalized on Dad’s heritage and told clients that he, David, belonged to the Mafia, and that Dad was indeed a Godfather. Dad didn’t know it until he went to visit and realized that eyes were upon him. Dave’s associates could not believe that this unassuming, casually dressed man could be so powerful.

            David had no qualms about using any of his family for his own purposes. I recall an incident in 1976 when we were both living in Eugene and I was nine months pregnant. David’s third wife had been taken into state custody and was housed in Juvenile Hall. She was only sixteen when he figured out a way to marry this runaway in some other state and move her to Oregon. But the State of Oregon didn’t go for it.

            I was surprised and honored one day when David invited me out to lunch. But he neglected to tell me the real reason for our rendezvous. Instead of driving us to a fancy restaurant, he pulled up to the Juvenile Hall to parade his pregnant sister in front of the authorities in some cockeyed show of family unity.

            My parents visited David in Las Vegas in November 1985. David and his fifth wife had just adopted a child. Mom wrote the following entry in her journal:

            “The battle was intense . . . the Lord put me to the test the first night. David had invited a talented young violist to play a practice concert for the baby . . . This young woman, thirty-ish, came out of the Hippie culture in Los Angeles. She had been in Las Vegas for nine years, backing many of the stars, including Sammy Davis Jr., on whom she had a definite crush. She wanted to be his woman. Also present were Dave’s publicist and his lawyer’s wife.

            The music hurt the baby’s ears so Dave and his wife left the room, leaving an audience of four. The violist performed beautifully from memory for at least a half hour, then sat down on the floor to engage in conversation with the publicist. Apparently, the publicist was well informed about Sammy, and she was inquiring about what kind of woman Sammy liked.

            Talk drifted into psychics and the supernatural. I tried not to enter into the conversation, since all these people were clients or employees of Dave’s. But the young violist’s questions were direct: “What do you think about Dave’s business?”

            “I’d rather not comment,” was my answer.

            “What sign were you born under?”

            Dad answered for me. “Aries.”
            She continued to try to draw me into the discussion, which finally gave me no alternative except to state my position: “I happen to be a Christian and I do not believe these things are of God.”

            The publicist got in his punches. “But you do believe they exist? Even the Bible records there were astrologers.”

            “Yes, but the Bible states they were not of God.”

            The violist responded, “I was raised an Episcopalian. Jesus is very important to me.”

            Previously she had stated she believed in reincarnation. I asked her how she could reconcile Jesus with reincarnation, since He had died for our sins. I also stated that I had been into astrology for years, but I now refuted it. She asked how I could tolerate Dave’s position. I told her I loved him, and that he knew I disagreed with what he was doing, but we didn’t argue about it.

            The publicist decided it was time to go and the discussion broke up. Though Dave was not in on the discussion, I had no doubt he would hear about it.”

            When my folks returned home to Eugene, my mother was distraught that she had failed to minister to David. She did not know how to break the news to my sister Pat who had been “standing in the gap” for her in prayer while she was gone. Mom continued to pray and to believe that the Lord would save her prodigal son.

            Shortly after my parents’ visit, David was forced out of Las Vegas for unlawful business practices. He moved to Lenoir City, Tennessee, where his wife had grown up. He continued his psychic business in Tennessee through two more decades and three more wives. But his dream of becoming the world’s richest man continued to unravel. Wife number seven turned him in to the Internal Revenue Service for nonpayment of taxes on $1 million. Wife number eight had him arrested for domestic violence.

            Dave’s health also continued to deteriorate. He developed a tumor at the base of his skull, and became severely diabetic. He was hospitalized many times for his ailments. Some of his relatives, former relatives, and other associates began to turn on him. He accused some of them of bilking him out of his worldly possessions. His legal, family and health problems left him desperate and alone. He telephoned my mother several times a day for solace and advice. Mom used these conversations to tell him about the Lord and to encourage him to repent. Sometimes they would pray together, and David would ask questions about Mom’s relationship with the Lord.

            David’s business shriveled up, and he moved in with a relative in Knoxville. His only source of income was a monthly Social Security check of $800. With prison time staring him down, he telephoned my mother, desperate and despondent. She suggested that he check into Catholic Charities in Knoxville, which runs an emergency housing program for elderly people in crisis.

            On October 4, 2006, a priest named Father Joe Campbell visited David for an intake interview. He heard David’s confession and gave him communion. As a result of this encounter, David began attending Catholic Church regularly for the first time since he was a child.

            My mother Harriet’s thirty-year prayer vigil had finally paid off.

            David emailed Mom a letter of thanks for her efforts. It read in part: “Dearest Mama, Thank you for your daily prayers and for telling me to go to the Catholic Church for help. Please continue your prayers. As you told Father Joe over the telephone during his visit here last week: ‘Father Joe, you are the answer to our prayers!’

            The email continued: “I realize that I am extremely fortunate to come from such a good family, and I sincerely and deeply apologize for not ‘measuring up’ . . . in the process of examining my conscience, I found that you and Pop did ‘rub off’ on me, that an apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree. I really am a lot better and more honorable and truly spiritual person than my ‘public image’ depicts. And, I most definitely am living proof that you can’t believe everything you read in the newspapers!”

            One can only speculate whether this statement was a muffled confession that he had fabricated stories for over thirty years. Perhaps he was bothered by press coverage of his upcoming tax evasion trial, or by scathing remarks on the Internet that mocked him and questioned his integrity.

            In February 2007, David faced an earthly judge who was not as forgiving as our Lord God. Senior U.S. District Judge James Jarvis sentenced David to twenty one months in federal prison for income tax evasion. David’s desperate pleas for leniency based on his poor health fell on deaf ears. He entered the Federal Correctional Institution, a prison for inmates with medical issues, in Fort Worth, Texas.

            Three months later, he collapsed and was rushed to John Peter Smith Hospital in Forth Worth, confused and trembling. His stomach was greatly enlarged and he was in tremendous pain. He was dying as a result of what doctors described as an “ischemic bowel”.

            The medical staff placed Dave on life support and rushed him into surgery. Doctors removed about half of his stomach. In the following five days, David endured three more surgeries. In the end, his entire stomach and colon were removed, and the prognosis was fatal.

            My mother received daily telephone calls from a social worker at the hospital, keeping her updated. Finally, when there was no more hope, the social worker placed a phone receiver to David’s ear so Mom could tell him good-bye. The social worker reported that Dave gave no response. Dave was taken off life support on May 9; he died twenty four hours later.

            Just after David passed away, my sister Pat had a vision. She saw him as that angelic-looking youngster dressed as an altar boy. She immediately realized that this was the Lord’s message of verification that David had indeed been saved.

            On June 1, my mother received a package containing David’s ashes. She wrote in her journal: “I expected his ashes would be in a plastic container. Instead, Dave was buried in a golden urn, as if to say, “I am now a child of the King.”

            The family sang “Amazing Grace” at David’s graveside funeral. No other song would suffice.

             **If you or someone you love knew my brother David, my family would love to hear from you. We recently completed a biography about David's sordid career, and are marketing it for publication. It is our prayer that this book, "Redemption of a Psychic, will provide hope and healing to many. Please view our Website, Guardinos Write: www.involved.com/~barbg