Here is another title from the books on my summer catch-up list. Let me just say that, normally, this is the kind of book I would have probably passed over without much of a second thought. Its author is a psychic and medium who claims to have conversations with Michael (as well as, apparently, many of his deceased friends and family members!) from “The Other Side.” This is actually her second book about her conversations with Michael, although I have not read her first book Another Part of Me. Don’t get me wrong; it’s not that I’m skeptical of those who have “The Gift.” In fact, psychic and intuitive abilities run in my own family, and the very reason I was intrigued enough to read this book in the first place is because I quickly realized that the author and I have shared a very eerily similar vision of Michael’s death, which I will get to in due order. I’ll just say that the excerpt I read on Amazon was enough to give me chills. And besides, at under three bucks for the Kindle edition, what did I have to lose, anyway?
That isn’t to say I was entirely ready to put aside my skepticism. I do believe there is certainly life after death and, as stated previously, I do believe that some people are blessed with the intuitive ability to communicate with the dead. But some of the book does sound a little “out there” and requires a certain suspension of belief. The title gives much of it away. It is what it is; a personal memoir written by a psychic medium about the alleged conspiracy theory behind Michael’s death, based on her own conversations with Michael’s spirit and the visions he has allowed her to see through his eyes. Still with me? Yes, I know what you’re probably thinking right about now, and trust me, it was my initial reaction as well.
But there was one, troubling detail I could not shake off or dismiss: The author and I had had exactly the same vision, with but a few details varied. What’s more, my sister had the same dream, both of us within days of Michael’s passing. So when I read the excerpt from this book, I realized right away that even though I could dismiss it all as BS if I wanted to, there was one troubling detail I could not so easily shake off: the fact that I now had a record of at least three different people, all of whom, independently of one another, had experienced the same vision of Michael’s death within the same time frame, and all with the same eerily similar details. That knowledge alone was enough to keep me reading. I became intrigued to find out how many more details of my own (and my sister’s) vision would be corroborated by Stefanaik. I started reading this book on June 25, not exactly a cheery way to top off an already depressing day. But if there was any day appropriate to begin reading a book about Michael’s final hours, well, that would certainly be it.
I don’t wish to provide too many spoilers of Stefenaik’s book. After all, the purpose of any book review is to encourage people to read the book for themselves (or to run like hell, as the case may be) so I will try to refrain from going too much into her theories here, lest I give too much away. But even a casual reading of the book’s blurb will tell you that there are a few individuals and entities who obviously do not come out of this book smelling very good, namely Randy Phillips, AEG, Sony, Frank DiLeo, the Estate executors and most of all, “Dr.” Tohme Tohme, all figures that converged on (or reentered) Michael’s life during a relatively short window of time between December of 2008 and June of 2009. These names alone are enough to insure that this is bound to be a polarizing book, one that may not be warmly embraced by all segments of the fan community. However, as I’ve always said, it pays to keep an open mind. While I don’t believe in slandering anyone without sufficient evidence, we have to keep in mind, again, that the book is what it is: A medium merely recounting what she claims to have seen in a series of visions. So in that regard, we can’t exactly call it slander, nor can it stand as evidence of a crime committed. But for those readers willing to keep an open mind-and to keep a handy helping of salt nearby, just in case-it is certainly a disturbing and thought provoking read.
However, the book’s contents aren’t entirely made up of the author’s own visions and “conversations” with Michael. There is a lot of solid, factual evidence, as well. Using trial transcripts from the Conrad Murray trial, the Katherine Jackson vs. AEG trial, the official autopsy report findings and other records, as well as the emails exchanged between all of the parties involved (most of which became public record during the criminal and civil death trials) she is able to provide more than enough factual evidence to support many of her theories. Of course, her agenda is to “prove” that these facts corroborate her visions. Nevertheless, too many details have come to light since Michael’s death that do bear questioning. Why, for example, did Michael’s own children testify that they saw Randy Phillips in their home at odd times when they knew he was not supposed to be there? And why did both Phillips and Tohme seem to have unlimited access to Michael’s home? Why was there such a discrepancy between the actual time of death (according to paramedics who claimed Michael had obviously been dead for hours) and the calling of 911 at 12:22pm? Why was the syringe found at the bedside, containing Propofol and Lidocaine never properly tested? (Remember, this was the syringe that Murray and his attorneys fought so hard to prove as “evidence” that Michael had self administered). Why was DA Steven Cooley receiving financial contributions from AEG (certainly, at the very least, a major conflict of interest!). Why was Tohme Tohme, whom Michael had fired in March of 2009, listed as of June 22, 2009 (three days prior to Michael’s death) as a beneficiary of AEG’s “accidental death” insurance policy with Lloyds of London? Why, indeed, was this man even still in the picture, even to the extent of being present at the hospital on June 25? And what did happen to that missing surveillance tape?
Stefenaik does attempt to answer these questions, and to her credit, relies on factual and documented evidence to support most of her claims, though it would have been helpful if the author could have provided actual PDF facsimiles of the documents in question, rather than merely copying them verbatim-skeptics can always claim the documents have been altered or faked. Fortunately, most of them are public record and can be verified easily enough with a little research, but being able to show the actual documents always helps in the credibility department.
As stated previously, however, I was most intrigued with the author’s vision because its details so nearly matched what my sister and I (in nearly identical dreams on the same night) experienced six years ago.
I have never spoken much about that dream, having only confided its details to a very few people whom I trust. Mostly, I haven’t spoken much about it because I know the general skepticism that people usually give such claims, but also because the logical and common sense side of my brain would always say, “It was just a dream. It’s not like it’s something you can ever prove; it’s not as if anyone would ever actually take this as serious ‘evidence’ of a crime.” And yet a part of me has felt guilty, also, about that silence. This, too, has crossed my mind on many occasions. What if Michael, in those first few weeks when his soul was most restless, had actually indeed reached out to a select few, receptive individuals to show them exactly what happened to him that morning? And if he chose some of us to give this information, what exactly did he want us to do with it, or take from it? That is a thought that has weighed heavily on my mind for the last six years. If Michael wanted this knowledge to be known, had I somehow failed him by sitting on it, dismissing it as “just a dream” that no one would ever take seriously? Did I somehow have a responsibility that I had failed to hold up?
I have to admit that Stefenaik’s book has again raised a lot of those questions for me. Like I said, I probably would have been a complete skeptic about this book were it not for the fact that I saw and felt-almost to a tee-exactly what she felt and describes in this book, as allegedly given to her straight from Michael.
In my case, my dream occurred just a few nights after Michael’s passing. It was long before any photos of the death scene had been leaked to the media; I had no way to even know what the interior of the Carolwood home looked like. It was also long before the autopsy results or any of the details of the death were well known; thus, it was the time when there were still many conflicting media reports and no one seemed to know what had actually happened that night or that morning.
Stefenaik described it as a kind of channeling experience, and this was very similar to what I felt. It was as if I was in Michael’s body, witnessing the events through his eyes as he would have experienced them. There were many details that stood out to me about the room-to the right of the bed there was a lamp that burned continuously, even into the morning hours. There was a white mantelpiece with what looked like either a gold framed mirror or some type of screen above it. Over the windows, heavy beige colored drapes were parted, and through the white sheers that covered the window it was obviously sometime around dawn, as there was just a tinge of gray in the sky. When I finally did see photos of the bedroom, it confirmed for me everything I had seen. I felt intuitively that I had been inside that room before.
I can only say that what I experienced through Michael’s body (if indeed that’s what was happening) was a horrific sensation that I hope to God to never experience again. The feeling was of being completely incapacitated and unable to breathe. He was mostly conscious of what was happening around him, but unable to move or make a sound. It was like being paralyzed and drowning, all at the same time. My breath was so shallow and labored that every intake of air hurt and burned my lungs. What I felt was very much a semi lucid state, where I seemed to be dipping in and out of consciousness, at times acutely aware of my surroundings; at other times, slipping into a non-lucid state where I believed I was drowning.
I could hear two men laughing. At the mantelpiece, two men stood with their backs turned to me. Since the bedroom photos have come out, I have seen that there were, in fact, two such mantelpieces that would have been within Michael’s range of vision, the one that would have been to his right, beneath the mirror, and one in the foyer outside his bedroom, which looks to have a framed painting above it.
I could not tell for certain which mantelpiece I saw the men standing in front of (after six years, some of the details have started to get a little blurred to me, as far as whether what I was seeing was to the left or right) but I want to say they were in front of the mantel with the mirror over it. They were going through papers; a lot of papers. They ignored me, assuming I was either dead or out of it. As they sorted and signed papers, they kept laughing like guys exchanging dirty jokes. One of the men I saw was clearly Conrad Murray. The other, however, I could not immediately identify other than that he was a very large, white, stockily built man with longish brown hair.
The next day I was talking to my sister and you can imagine my shock when she described to me having the very same dream, with the exact, same details. We had both seen Murray and the same, stockily built man with brown hair in the room. We had both heard them laughing, and had seen them sorting through and signing many papers. We both had the sensation of being unable to breathe or move. There were, however, a few things that she was able to recall more vividly than I (for the record, her abilities have always been far more advanced than mine; she never ceases to amaze me with the things she is able to “know,” long before anyone else). She said there was a black binder or brief case into which those papers were placed. Also, she recalled seeing Murray escort the brown-haired man out of the room and into what she described as a hallway to the left of the bedroom. After the Murray trial and after the photos detailing the interior of the Carolwood home were made public, I realized that what she was describing was the foyer outside the bedroom, which would have been to the left from Michael’s point of view on the bed. She saw the two men converse briefly in the foyer, then they parted ways. The brown-haired man turned to his left (from Michael’s point of view) and descended down the stairs, unescorted. Murray returned to the bedroom.
My sister believes that she was seeing the last thing that Michael was consciously aware of before his death. During the Conrad Murray trial, at least one eerie detail emerged that chillingly seemed to confirm her vision. It was said that before Michael’s body was moved, his head was tilted on the pillow to the left, with eyes open.That would mean that whatever he had last seen that morning would have been from exactly that point of view, looking towards the foyer.
It was only in the aftermath, while looking at photos of the various individuals involved in Michael’s life at that time, that I realized the brown-haired man I had seen most closely fit the description of Tohme Tohme.
Now, given all I have told you, imagine the chills I got when I read this passage from Stefenaik’s book, as “told” to her by Michael:
“A man put a needle in my arm – an IV drip in my leg. My arm was sore from pins and needles in my shoulder. I couldn’t see. A brown haired guy. They were going through my papers. I could hear them. They ransacked the house. There was a security camera. It was pointed at the gate, but that night something wasn’t right. My life was turning upside down and I didn’t know why. I was out of my body, but not dead. He gave me the last shot and I died instantly. The man with the brown hair, short sleeved shirt, wide open collar, white. I hoped he’d come back to see more, but he didn’t. He stayed away while Conrad Murray cleaned up. I just stood there watching, helpless. He wrote down the time (Conrad Murray). It was significant. He had a pad of paper with him, taking notes. He said he carried it with him where ever he went. Black with leather trim. Frank was separate from this guy. They drove in separate vehicles…”
Stefaniak, Deborah (2014-12-30). The Murder of Michael Jackson (Kindle Locations 80-84). . Kindle Edition.
Later, in the “final vision” she describes seeing exactly how the brown-haired man, whom she also identified as Tohme, delivered to Michael the fatal shot. Ironically, Michael had stated many times that he would die from “a shot.” He used to say that to Frank Cascio a lot, according to Cascio’s book, and of course Frank assumed he meant a gunshot (in other words, an assassination). Perhaps Michael had enough foresight to realize his death would be brought about by “a shot” one way or another. Certainly I think he had a premonition that his death would come early, and that it would not be a natural one. He always believed that he would be murdered.
I will just say that there are more than enough similar details between my vision, my sister’s, and Stefanaik’s to give some serious pause for consideration. Of course, there are marked differences, also. For example, I never saw anyone other than Murray and the man I presumed to be Tohme. I never saw DiLeo or Randy Phillips or any of the other individuals that Stefanaik claims to have seen (but that isn’t to say she’s wrong; only that I didn’t personally see them). I also never actually witnessed the murder act itself. Possibly I may have been experiencing the after effects of the shot (although Stefanaik claims that Michael told her he died instantly after the shot)or perhaps it was the effects of the other drugs that had been administered in order to rend him unconscious before the actual, fatal act. In her version, she says that her vision (looking through Michael’s eyes) was very blurred. She says she later learned, after reading the autopsy report, that the drugs that had been found in Michael’s system in conjunction with the Propofol-mainly the benzodiazapines, would result in blurred vision. In my own dream, I don’t particularly recall having blurred vision, but I do recall feeling in and out of consciousness and the sensation of being unable to move or breathe; all indications of heavy sedation. Also, it’s highly unlikely that three individuals would remember all the same details exactly, or that we were even all given the same details exactly. What I really look at overall are the consistency of the details, which all involved a large, brown-haired man, and the fact that we all saw at least two men in that room going through papers. Call it what you want, but that cannot be coincidence. It seems, rather, that we were all being given pieces to the puzzle; some of us with more detail than others, but all forming a very similar scenario. In my case, I can’t say I saw anything that actually points to murder or to a specific individual. What my vision did tell me, however, was that there was definitely someone else in the room that morning, and that this individual looked a lot like Tohme. Beyond that, I can’t say with certainty that this man killed Michael, but the fact that I saw him there (as did my sister) has certainly been cause enough for us to believe this was a man who, if not directly responsible, was at least complicit in some way.
But let’s just say it did happen that way. Where, then, does this leave Conrad Murray? Was he an innocent man framed, or a complicit accomplice-a “fall guy” as many suspected-willing to take the blame on himself in order to protect the real party(ies) responsible (perhaps in exchange for a major payout down the road)?
Stefenaik seems to be of the opinion that Murray, while hardly a good guy (certainly one who was putting his own interests ahead of his patient) did not commit the fatal act and, perhaps, had no knowledge of it. Her vision revealed only one person-Tohme-who administered the fatal shot. If one believes this, it could, of course, explain why Murray and his defense were so gung-ho for the “Michael self administered” defense, given that his attorneys probably theorized that it would be much easier (insofar as creating doubt in the jury’s mind and obtaining an acquittal) to blame the victim, rather than trying to argue that someone else “could” have been responsible for the crime. Such a defense would have been a long shot gamble, and all but impossible to prove with so little evidence, so shifting all the blame onto Michael would have been the next logical step as far as the defense was concerned.
Within the Michael Jackson camp there have always been people who have sworn that Conrad Murray did not actually kill Michael Jackson. There are many who still believe that Murray’s conviction was simply a smokescreen, one that allowed the real killer to slip through the cracks.
I am, however, not so quick to let Murray off the hook. I know what I saw in my own vision. Murray was on the scene, along with Tohme, and I believe, absolutely, that he either killed Michael or was complicit to the deed with Tohme-perhaps enough that he was willing to take the fall to cover Tohme’s actions. In the end, I am still one hundred per cent convinced that Murray deserved to be tried and convicted. But it is disturbing to think that Murray’s measly manslaughter conviction and two year jail sentence could have, in fact, been a mere cover for something far more sinister.
I don’t know if we will ever really know the full truth about what happened to Michael Jackson. The LAPD, for now, seems quite content to have closed that chapter with Conrad Murray’s conviction. That doesn’t mean a lot of us are willing to give up that search for answers, however. Whatever one is willing to make of the visions that Stefenaik, myself, and my sister have all shared, I’m convinced that it can’t be coincidence that we all claim to have seen this same, large- framed, brown-haired man in the room that morning. Something-or someone-wanted us to see this, and I feel, wanted this story to be told, even if, perhaps, the chances of it being believed (let alone acted upon) may be slim. Spirits who have suffered traumatic deaths, including murder victims whose deaths are covered up or whose murders are never solved, are among the most restless of spirits. They want their stories told, and usually cannot be at peace or move on until they are.
I don’t claim this as the book that has all the answers, and sometimes I did find myself reaching for that pinch of salt. However, there are indeed some things that can’t be explained away. I “saw” what this author claims to also have seen, and that is enough to convince me that there is certainly something to this thing, even if I’m at a loss to explain exactly what that “something” is. I do know enough to convince me that the final chapter of what really happened to Michael Jackson cannot be closed as long as Dr. Tohme Tohme still walks free. At the very least, his actions of that morning bear investigation, and I pray a time will come when that truth will be revealed. Until then, Michael’s homicide remains, as far as I’m concerned, an open case.
This book won’t be for everyone. Not only is its subject matter controversial, but as with many self-published books, it could have really used a good editor. The numerous typos, misspellings and punctuation errors were a little distracting at times, but if you can overlook its editorial flaws, it’s certainly a compelling read and one that will raise many disturbing questions about what really happened to Michael on the morning of June 25, 2009-and why. The advice so often given about books of this nature is, likewise, the best advice I can give here: Read it and judge for yourself.
The Murder of Michael Jackson, The Cover Up and Conspiracy by Deborah Stefenaik is available on Amazon.com: