|
 |
|
|
|
SIMON PETERS -"An Evening of Clairvoyance"
by S.C.
|
|
November 29th 2005 |
|
It’s on a cold and
blustery night that my partner and I travel to Norwich to witness a
demonstration by Mr Simon Peters, ‘the UK’s most evidential medium’.
This evening will be permeated by an odd, surreal and discordant tone,
which begins with our arrival at the venue. From the road this appears to
be a modern, clean and upmarket hotel, yet on the inside it has the look
and feel of a slightly faded, though comfortable, holiday-camp.
A visibly nervous member of staff is on ‘meet and greet’ duty in the
lobby. “Are you here to see the medium?” We’re pointed in the right
direction, and join the queue.
It is now becoming clear that Mr Peters certainly attracts the ladies, the
gentlemen being vastly outnumbered by the female contingent. A wide
age-range is represented and flowing ‘hippy-skirts’ seem to be the garment
of first choice.
The men are cautious and grudging; it’s easy to spot those who are here
under protest. It’s equally easy to pick out the young hopefuls with their
bleached and spiky hairstyles. The term trainee medium will not be unknown
to many of these sensitive lads.
In a matter of moments we find ourselves standing before a small table
outside the conference room in which the demonstration is to take place,
and in the presence of Simon Peters and his female assistant.
That document of endless speculation – the infamous Seating Plan - is in
front of me. Simon asks if I have booked seats and I reply to the
affirmative. I scan the piece of paper upon which he draws two thick,
black lines to register our attendance. The paper seems to bear a simple
grid – squares marked with thick lines indicate those who have pre-booked.
Thinner lines (I assume) indicate those who have ventured out at the last
minute. Nothing resembles a seating layout.
I hand the entry fee to Simon’s assistant and accept the first significant
message of the evening – “There’s a bar at the back of the room if
you’d like to get a drink”.
It’s at this point, as we enter the room, that the sceptical itch begins;
an unmistakable sensation that starts low down in the back of the brain –
a tingling irritation which inexorably ploughs its way up through the
synapses until it demands attention.
It wants answers, and it wants them now.
Why was Simon Peters present at the table?
A member of staff had obviously been delegated the task of meeting us
at the door – couldn’t he have been given the job of marking off attendees
as they entered?
Why was it necessary for me to leave my name when I telephoned to book
tickets?
We can sit wherever we choose (latecomers would soon be helping themselves
to chairs from a pile at the back of the room and arranging them as they
wish). The grid in Simon’s possession bore no relation to the layout of
the seating, but the inescapable truth is that he has access to the names
of at least some of the people now in this room, as left on his answering
machine.
Itch, itch…
We sit to the rear of the hall and don’t have long to wait
before Simon takes to the stage. He immediately goes up in my estimation
by turning off the Enya CD, with which I have been mildly tortured since
walking through the door.
I resolve to ignore the cranial irritation and approach this experience in
an open-minded manner. If anything paranormal is to occur here I will not
miss it due to my preconceptions. I invite objectivity to take the
co-pilot’s seat beside me; let’s both sit back and make the most of the
event.
Simon launches into his introductory speech in an upbeat manner, not
unlike the patter one might expect from a Butlin’s ‘turn’. Soon though, he
talks in more sombre tones of spirit, of the ‘messages of love’ that some
of us will receive, and of how he is no more than the instrument of
communication – a humble servant through which these glad tidings will be
passed.
|
That was a little odd. Perhaps it’s the sceptical itch
being over-sensitive, but it didn’t seem quite spontaneous. Haven’t I read
that Simon almost always mentions a cold and a cough at his
demonstrations? Has he just introduced a handy excuse that would permit
him to pause during a message if it were convenient for him to do so?
Certainly, this cough will strike more than a few times during the
evening, allowing him to break and walk to the back of the platform for a
sip of water. Is stage-craft at work here?
Then again, Simon is a smoker, and perhaps he’s simply prone to colds. Am
I being churlish in my suspicions? Possibly.
|
|
And then he coughs. He
explains that he has a cold, and asks if we all share this malady. |
|
The tone doesn’t work. This is not what the audience is
expecting, and the joke will fall increasingly flat as Simon
intermittently returns to it throughout the evening. He never seems to
notice the muted response that this receives. A medium he may be, a
natural comedian he is not |
|
Simon’s introduction
is uncomfortably discordant – at times he speaks with apparent sincerity
about his work for spirit, but then switches to cheap innuendo while
explaining how the microphone will be passed among us – “It’s a long
thing with a battery in it. You ladies may be familiar with something like
this”
“If you are handed the microphone you should put it up to your mouth
and speak clearly into it, don’t put it between your legs or we won’t hear
you”
|
|
|
|
“If you
go – ‘it were me Dad, he died of a heart attack, he died on a Tuesday, it
were raining outside, the funeral were on a Thursday’ – I will come and
slap you, ‘cos they’re all the questions that I’m gonna ask”.
Hold on a moment. Back up a bit. What was that last sentence again?
“…they’re all the questions that I’m gonna ask”. He’s not supposed
to ask any questions at all, is he? Was that a slip?
Itch.
Towards
the end of this preamble, it becomes clear to us that something
significant is happening – Simon’s speech is peppered with asides directed
at, we all assume, ‘spirit’ – “Hold on a minute fella’, I’ll be right
with you…”
And so the messages begin.
|
|
Spirit 1 |
|
His first
communication is, he tells us, coming from a gentleman who ‘shows me
fatherly energy. He died from emphysema’. This is directed towards
somebody in the front-right quarter of the audience. The message is not
accepted. Simon suggests that it might actually be asthma? Asbestosis?
Cough! “Please excuse me coughing, won’t you? I want to come to this
area of the room. The girl with blond hair – I want to sit on her knee for
some reason. The girl with the red hat – I’m in this area”
“This gentleman did have lung failure. He says multiple organ failure.
My organs shut-down but it was my lungs that went first. Now… do you
understand?”
A lady, sitting a few rows from the front, accepts this message.
Unfortunately she tells Simon, and the rest of us, her entire family
history the moment that she’s handed the microphone. The reading flounders
immediately although, in fairness, Simon can’t be blamed for this. Things
seem to have gotten off to a false-start.
|
|
Spirit 2 |
|
Simon
brings his next message to the opposite side of the audience; again
looking for somebody in the front few rows – “this lady went into
spirit in her late-forties, I think it’s …late…forties. She’s showing me
stomach cancer“ Simon comments on the age – “Now I think that’s
ridiculously young.”
“This lady is showing me ‘Mum’ – motherly energy…”
The message is readily accepted and Simon goes on to tell the woman that
her mother didn’t want to go to hospital, but eventually succumbed to her
illness. Would that be an unusual scenario in a person afflicted by
stomach cancer? The statement is accepted.
Simon offers Thursday as “day of last communication.” The recipient
seems uncertain, but accepts the information.
The next few comments are along the lines of “she was a gentle soul”
and “she had so much love for her family”.
I’m sure she was a delightful lady - many, perhaps most, people think that
of their own mother.
“One, one, two, three – time of last communication” Simon clarifies
this; “11.23… pm, I think.”
“Is that right?”
“Erm…maybe…a quarter of an hour…”
“11.23 – time of last communication.”
The lady
isn’t sure – “I…think so, yeah.”
Simon insists “That right?”
“Yeah..”
This spirit wants to “give love to five”.
The
recipient doesn’t recognize this.
The lady in spirit hung on for as long as she could until somebody gave
her the most wonderful message – ‘if you need to go, it’s alright.’
The recipient doesn’t know. Simon explains that it was a lady, earlier on
the Thursday that ‘gave permission’, and the woman says that she might
know who the message refers to.
Simon - “Wednesday, half past one, the funeral – it drizzled.”
“Yeah.”
“A dozen red roses to mark an anniversary” seems to confuse the
recipient. “Perhaps it was a memorial? The dozen roses are important to
this spirit“ still fails to resonate with the lady.
Three unspecified individuals laid “three deep, red roses on the coffin
– one, two, three“ ( Simon mimes the laying of flowers ).
Yes, this
is accepted although the recipient is becoming upset and it’s difficult to
hear her responses clearly.
Simon - “You understand the five, don’t you, because they divide two
and three?
“…er…yeah.”
Simon – “ Can I tell you one thing? She just…went…to…sleep. But I’ve
got a man here who’s saying ‘when I went it hurt like Hell’…”
Simon moves to his next reading, and to the opposite side of the stage –
“There is a much younger gentleman – now we’ve already had a younger
person…”
He turns back to the lady he’s just been speaking to, sounding surprised –
“Was she 47?”
The girl, quietly “Yeah.”
“Was she 47? She just said ‘I were 47’ “
|
|
This
results in a very uncomfortable moment – Simon has (if we accept that he
is genuinely talking to spirit ) just scolded this lady’s mother like a
naughty child. The lady is clearly offended, and her friend turns to her,
apparently shocked. Simon returns to the lady, makes an obsequious bow,
and offers “Ah, bless her…”
Simon has, on face value, achieved a very precise ‘hit’ by giving the
deceased lady’s exact age. It is a ‘hit’, undoubtedly, but didn’t he begin
the reading by stipulating “…in her late-forties, I think it’s
…late…forties.”?
Surely that narrows the possibilities to three, perhaps four, years? It’s
a ‘hit’, but the odds against it aren’t quite as staggering as they
initially seem. |
|
There is a moment of acknowledgement here – Simon has given a correct age
of death, very suddenly and spontaneously.
For
reasons known only to himself, he then immediately chides the ‘spirit’
that has just interrupted – “Well go away, I’m talking to him now”,
turning back to his next recipient. |
|
Spirit 3 |
|
Simon
returns to his next reading.
“There is an impact.” Simon claps his hands together to illustrate
the point – “This gentleman had just got off his motorbike, got a car…”
Simon chooses a man sitting in the front-quarter of the audience “I
think I want to be with you…”
He describes a car accident, which happened 10 years ago, does this mean
anything to the man?
“Erm…yeah…” The man seems hesitant and uncertain throughout the
reading.
‘D’ is where ‘spirit’ wants the message to go – no response from the
sitter.
The message is to ‘go to 7’. Again, no response.
The victim of this accident was ‘dead on arrival’, ‘suffered horrible head
injuries’ and ‘viewing before the funeral was discouraged’. The recipient
isn’t at all sure.
“Have you got a white van?” Simon enquires.
“Yeah”
“Yeah, you wanna get it cleaned-out or else he’ll come an’ haunt you.
He’s told me it’s dirty…”
“Yeah, it is.” The man agrees, laughing.
“ ‘Bloody white vans’, that’s what he’s just said. Did he hit a white
van?”
The man doesn’t know.
‘A sixteen year-old in spirit with this person, the funeral was on
Tuesday, a small silver cross placed around his neck, two white roses in
the coffin.’ – all are met with either “don’t know” or “can’t
remember”.
Simon coughs extravagantly “Scared me more than you!” |
|
Spirit 4 |
|
He
takes water and then moves on to his next communication,
This reading lasts no more than a minute, and is offered to a man at the
front of the audience. “A lady and gentleman reunited in spirit, and
something about a grave – you going to find a grave…”
The man
shows no recognition whatsoever, and Simon says “I’m going to leave
this with you.”
|
|
Spirit 5 |
|
Simon
begins the next message “Jim…father…Jim…”
He then makes perhaps the biggest mistake ( no, not the biggest mistake –
that’s to come in the second half ) of the night by placing the reading
with a large lady, sitting in the row ahead of me. She is what one might
call, a ‘robust, no-nonsense Norfolk lady’.
“ He says don’t call me James. Call me Jim. If you call me James I’ll
‘ave you. “
“Please give love to five of ‘em…five…one’s a bit different to four,
apparently. D’you understand?”
“ No! “
Simon tries variations on this numerical theme – one lad and four lasses.
“ No!
“
Resistance is futile here, Simon – this is my part of the world and I can
see what you’re up against - I’d cut your losses now, if I were you.
Cancer of the oesophagus is accepted, but then Simon develops his theme –
“ Why have I got Jim Reeves in my head?” He begins to croon – ‘Oh
Danny boy…’
“I have no idea! “
The lady in the seat directly behind has her hand up.
Simon tries again with the five, but now it’s three with another two ‘in
spirit’ making up the fifth. The lady is having none of it.
Simon
explains that this gentleman is doing his utmost to get through to her,
but there’s another spirit coming and “he’s nicking the energy from
someone behind him.”
“That’ll be him!!” the lady responds, and gets a big laugh. It’s a
lot funnier than the ‘microphone’ jokes.
The lady sitting behind is becoming emotional at all of this, it seems
that Simon is about to go to her, but then he momentarily stays with the
woman in the row ahead of me ( ‘spirit’ seems to be gaining strength ) -
“Oh, he says he’s gonna kick my arse later…”
“That’s definitely him!!”
Simon develops his theme – “Oh he’s absolutely delighted - he’s a man
after my own heart – he’s just lifted up a glass, and a big cigar…”
“I can’t relate to that at all!”
Simon realizes it’s time to quit ( Did ‘spirit’ suddenly fade-out again? )
– “Oh… go to the lady behind now”
Simon asks which bits of the previous message she understood, and she
responds that she understood all of it. How can the same message apply to
two people sitting just two or three feet apart? I don’t know…
Itch.
Simon then offers a slight return of the man who was with the lady in
front, and this time he gives ’three’ – both recipients respond ‘yes’ and
Simon explains that the ‘spirits’ are “coming through together” – he then
struggles to untangle ‘four and one’ and ‘three’ and nobody has much of a
clue what this is all about.
The Jim Reeves was for the woman behind, and was played at the funeral.
Who’s funeral? We don’t know yet, although the recipient seems to. She
accepts that this man was ‘tactile’, ‘loved his kids’ and that he sees
‘two little ones’. We assume that this may be the woman’s father, but this
has gone unstated.
‘Tuesday at half past ten’ for the funeral and ‘it was very
windy’ receive vague acknowledgements from the lady, but she’s sobbing
and it’s becoming hard to interpret her responses.
Again, Simon offers an inappropriately ‘funny’ comment –
pantomime-clutching his stomach he says “Oh, they make me feel a bit
windy, that’s how…that’s how they get me to say that”.
A few
people laugh, but it’s muted and uncomfortable in light of the emotional
state of the recipient. I have to assume that Simon was trying to help by
lightening the moment, but I don’t sense that it works well.
He tells the woman that ‘he is proud of her’, and ‘she was strong and
dealt with everything’. She continues to weep. Simon tells her that ‘she
was brave – she kissed him on the lips’. I think she accepts this, but her
hands are over her face.
Simon says that “When my dad died, I wasn’t that brave…”
This appears to confirm that it is the lady’s father with whom he is
communicating; she seems to accept the compliment, anyway.
“You know when he comes around you because there is only one man in the
world who could possibly smell like that, and it’s him.”
“You’ve smelled that awful smell…well, it’s his smell…well, oh I’m
sorry, it’s… it’s a bit stifling, isn’t it?”
“Yes”, she agrees.
He ‘tries to avoid aunty, on the other side’ and ‘a lot of them are with
him now’. Simon passes on this man’s love and points out that “there’s
no way on this planet that I could have guessed all that”.
I’m not sure whether the lady’s father was Jim, or whether it was simply
that Jim Reeves was played at the funeral. It’s only by the lady’s
reaction to Simon’s self-deprecating comment that we assume it was her
father. Perhaps it wasn’t necessary for Simon to confirm this – if he
knew, and the lady knew, perhaps that’s all that matters?
|
|
Time to
take ‘a wee-wee break’ as Simon quaintly puts it. I interpret this as
‘head for the bar and get to work with rolling- paper, tobacco and fire’.
I need to
think.
Something
has been niggling at the back of my mind, and now I have a moment to let
this thought define itself. When Simon introduces each of his messages he
usually begins by stating ‘fatherly energy’ and ‘died of throat cancer’,
or other combinations of familial relationship and cause of death. As soon
as somebody claims the message, the audience accepts this as a ‘hit’.
I can’t see, though, how it would be so very different if I stood on the
stage and simply asked – “Did anyone here lose their father to throat
cancer?”. Admittedly, Simon selects a relatively small area of the room to
place his message, and he sticks within this choice. Wouldn’t it be
stronger if he picked an individual first, then gave all the relevant
details? Isn’t he beginning each message with a question?
The ‘names’ issue is also troubling me. On at least two occasions ‘spirit’
has very clearly, and literally, spoken to Simon -
“Was she 47? She just said ‘I were 47’ “
“ ‘Bloody white vans’, that’s what he’s just said. Did he hit a white
van?”
Why wouldn’t a person in spirit, who is able to communicate this strongly,
take the opportunity to give their own name?
Then there are the dates that Simon offers. No – not dates – days.
Why does he not offer a month ‘of last communication’, or the precise date
of the funeral? What do people remember more clearly – the day of the week
that they last spoke to a loved one, or the month in which it happened?
Questions of a more philosophical nature are bothering me - Why do all of
these communications seem to be so devoid of personality? I ask myself
what kind of message I would expect from my maternal grandfather, for
example, if he were able to pass one to me? Would he tell me ‘time of last
communication’? Or ‘the funeral was on a particular day’? He died a decade
ago, and I don’t remember either of these details, so wouldn’t be able to
identify him from the message.
He died peacefully in hospital, in his sleep – what was the precise,
biological cause of his death? I don’t know.
I imagine he would talk about the swing-chair at the end of his garden, or
the silver Gaffa tape my uncle brought back from the States with which my
grandfather enthusiastically repaired everything in the house, or the shed
that he kept so immaculately well-ordered with his prized tool-set in the
cupboards that he made himself, or…any of a million details that defined
him as the man that he was, and the man I remember. His personality, in
other words.
It’s impossible to understand – none of it is consistent. Perhaps one has
to experience mediumship first-hand to put these issues into context.
Itch.
Back into the room for more Enya.
|
|
Note: The second part of
the show was not fully analysed by S.C., but a description of one reading
was given. |
|
During the
second-half, Simon began to talk about someone who had 'died from gas
poisoning'. After a lot of theatrical miming of someone with their head in
an oven, and a lot of asking for anyone to accept the message, he found a
lady whose friend had committed suicide by using a hosepipe from the
exhaust of their car and asphyxiating themselves.
Simon built the theme about how this woman had sat in the car, choking on
the fumes, then talked about how the person 'hadn't really wanted to die',
and was waiting for someone, and expecting they would be found before
being killed by the fumes.
The woman receiving the message then revealed that it was actually her
who had found her friend, dead in the car.
Simon had, in effect, just told this woman that as her friend was
suffocating in the car, it was her that was supposed to turn up and save
her.
There was one of those 'Oh my God' moments as everyone realised what Simon
had just told the woman. He had just effectively handed her the
responsibility for her friend's death.
Simon's face
dropped, then he went off on an awkward spiel about 'how everyone's
time of death is pre-arranged and you can't do anything about it'...
He never really recovered from that blunder, and the second-half was a
complete shambles. |
|
|
©2007 the Author &
doublexposure.co.uk |
|
Read the response by 'Simon Peters' |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Most Haunted
Live
| Most Haunted
|
Derek Acorah
|
Colin Fry
|
Tony Stockwell |
Simon Peters
Psychic
Phonelines |
Contact
| Legal
| Letters |
Home
|