The story I’m about to tell you is true. How do I know? I lived it. If what you read seems unbelievable, trust me, I wouldn’t believe it either had I not gone what I’m going to share. Are you ready for an amazing ride to opening up spiritually? To suddenly develop psychic abilities? Fasten your seatbelt and hold on while I take you on my own long and windy road.
I was born January 12, 1954 in Los Angeles, California. About an hour and half after I arrived, LA experienced an earthquake. I was told I looked like my dad with a shrunken head. I was born allergic to milk; cow, mother’s and goat. That’s just the first few days.
My parents moved to Pacoima, California on the GI bill in 1956. I was outside playing one day when I heard a loud explosion. As I looked up from our neighborhood cul-de-sac, I saw flames and debris falling from the sky. I ran into the house, hid behind a big blue chair in the living room and screamed on the top of my lungs. My mom came running. The phone rang, it was my dad. He had heard about the two planes that collided in mid-air in our neighborhood. Were we ok? The story as I was told is that my mom told my dad that I saw the whole thing. I was in a state of shock for about 9 months. I could not go to sleep, I could not be without my mom or left alone. Age 3 and already suffering from PTSD.
If that was not enough, my grandfather committed suicide the year before. I kept looking for him but was told he passed away of a heart attack. It was 1970, when I was 16, I learned the truth of the suicide.
That’s a lot of loss and conflict for a 3 year old. My trustworthy pediatrician told my parents to not mention the planes around me. But that is what they did back then…don’t talk about any feelings or truth. I had so many fears, I could not listen to planes fly overhead let alone watch fireworks until I was nearly a teenager. The fireworks resembled the crash in the air.
The plane crash I am referring to is famous. On January 31, 1957, a Douglas DC-78 was involved in a mid-air collision with an Air Force Northrup F-89. The planes crashed down into the schoolyard of Pacoima Junior High killing three people.
Richie Valens, the teenage singer was not at school that day; he was attending the funeral of his grandfather but lost friends in the accident. As depicted in The Buddy Holly Story, Ritchie feared flying in small planes due to that deadly accident. He feared being in a plane crash. Two years later, on February 3, 1959, while the artists were touring, their plane crashed, killing Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and J.P. Richardson, along with their pilot, Roger Peterson.
Somewhere in the fall of 1957, my father took me on a plane to San Francisco to help me overcome my fear of planes. I don’t remember all of it but I know it helped assuage my condition.
Born and raised Jewish, after the Nazi’s killed most of my grandmother’s family in Poland, I remember celebrating all the holidays, hearing stories of Europe, the war, the camps. No one ever mentioned God but my mom would have my two younger sisters and me pray and thank God before we went to sleep.
Spirituality meant nothing to me other than I was into horoscopes as a teenager. Was I psychic? No, not at all. Was I sensitive? Absolutely. I recall a few past life experiences. One, I was about 5 years old and my father and I were standing on the patio in the backyard. I remember him pointing out the Big Dipper and other constellations. I recall thinking to myself, “Here I am again” as if I recognized the sky for the first time, even after the plane crash two years earlier. The night sky is very different, obviously and I saw it for the first time.
In 1967, while studying WWII in a history class, I became quite restless. I was in 8th grade, sitting in the front row, end aisle near the window. I become so fidgety, the teacher slammed her ruler down on her desk and exclaimed, “Linda! What is it?” I stood up and said, “I don’t remember this!” I have no ideas what I was trying to recall but I couldn’t place the historical lesson.
The only time I would really think of God as I grew older was when I prayed to be freed from being grounded in high school. I graduated Grant High in Van Nuys, California in June, 1971; I earned a BA in Health Science from San Francisco State University in 1975 and attended the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, and graduated 1977 with a Master’s in Public Health Epidemiology. Yes, the big word of today with the Covid-19 Pandemic.
My first job out of grad school was working for an aerospace company. I had a weird accident three days before my interview and postponed it; I was hired as the Industrial Hygienist in October of 1977. I was responsible for industrial health and prevention of chemical and environmental exposures of a plant with 7100 employees.
I quit my job summer of 1980 and went to San Francisco to house sit while I tried to figure out my life. From wanting to be a singer songwriter to working behind barb wire fences for a company building fighter jets and missiles, I began to question what I was doing and how I got there. I returned to Los Angeles November, 1980. I was staying with my parents. I got a new job as an Environmental Health Specialist for an Insurance Company. On my first out of town assignment, the Boeing 737 my partner and I were traveling on, crash landed at John Wayne Airport. Just 90 minutes earlier, while in the airport coffee shop, I asked my partner if he saw the fuselage or exhaust settlement line on the body of the plane. I said it looked like it was going to crack there; he replied I must be tired from the long day of work.
There were problems with landing at John Wayne Airport, February 17, 1981. We circled and stayed in the air; finally, we began our descent. I started at the blond steward, questioning if he ever thought of crashing, that it was one of the risks of his job; suddenly we hit the ground, skipped, went back up and up and within seconds, the plane pounced on the runway, speeding out of control. I grabbed arms of both men sitting on each side of me; I thought we going to die. The noise was louder and the bumpiness of the ride caused all things from overhead compartments to spill. We were out of control on pavement and the grass. Then the plane came to a halt. The crying baby behind me stopped. The stewardess ran down the isle ‘everyone off before it blows”. We had 90 seconds to vacate before asphyxiation. The plane had stripped it’s landing gear, had an engine fall off and, upon impact, had in fact cracked in half where I had the vision.
I got to the door of plane; there were no stairs; I asked the stewardess where they were; she gently pushed me down the shut. The voice, the energy, the panning. In the middle of the field, a man running toward me to my rescue was screaming “We’re alive, we’re alive” and all I could say was “uh huh”. He took me to the paramedic station and I was put in an ambulance with others. I was hospitalized for four days.
As I slid down the ramp, a loud voice I’d never heard spoke to me while a rush of energy ran through me; I fell on my knees, ran across the grassy field; I stopped and panned the area; turning counter-clockwise, I saw cars on the 405 Freeway, then beacons flashing on several ambulances; continuing to pan, I saw the airport terminal and finally, in my last turn, I saw the plane on fire, on its belly, split in half. I remember screaming inside, “Oh my God, I just survived a plane crash”.
This is just the beginning. I was split in half, or so it felt. I stand 5’8” tall but on the left side of my body, I was about 50 tall. That sensation lasted about 4 months. I told people I was split in half. I started hearing voices that day. I thought I was nuts. I was out of my body, split in half, trying to make sense of it all when a friend suggested I visit her friend, a psychic. I later learned I became I had become what is known as a walk-in. And, that walk-in was a psychic. I told that woman I was not a psychic…she told me I’d be a famous psychic in the future.
A walk-in is where a soul enters and replaces an original soul spiritually for the body to embark on a different path when close to death. I knew nothing about anything like this; I was a walk-in she said and showed me a book I was to read explaining it. That book is “Strangers Among Us” by Ruth Montgomery. I was told this by a woman whose apartment I had entered and her back was to me; when she started explaining the theory of a walk-in, I told her I had been in a plane crash a month earlier.
Ok, so what is the probability of witnessing two planes colloid in mid-air and 23 years later be in a plane crash? I could not eat, sleep, calm down, get the noise of the plane’s landing gear being stripped or an engine falling off on a bumpy landing out of my thoughts. I remember thinking I was going to die. I constantly relived what I saw; the pavement, the grass, heard the throttle, the plane finally came to a halt. The stewardess running down the isle yelling for everyone to get off before it blew. We had 90 seconds before asphyxiation. The accident haunted me for at least six years but in the interim, well, let’s say this was just the beginning…
I had a spiritual awakening to say the least. Within a month, while staying at my parent’s home recovering, I was in my sister’s room and out of the closet, I gold cross came floating out of the wall, across the room and hit me in the forehead. I screamed and put the covers over my head and said, “Now I’m a Jew for Jesus…what is this?”
I was frightened and calm at the same time. I struggled for 9 months in therapy. I was on disability from work which required a lot of travel. I could not get back on a plane. I returned to the company only to be fired due to corporate reorganization; that was lie of course. I was left uncertain what to do, where to go or how to function.
Still battling the fear and anxiety, pain and fragmentation of the accident, I applied for an epidemiology job at UCLA in February, 1982. This was just a year after the plane crash which was February 17, 1981. While traveling to the interview, I had to drive over Beverly Glen which is a canyon road from the San Fernando Valley into West LA to the campus. I was behind a firetruck stopped on an incline; next thing I know, the truck rolled and smashed into the front of my Camero. As I watched the hose truck roll into my car, I honked but nothing helped. The truck crushed the entire front end of my car. My neck froze, my arms froze in the position holding the wheel, bracing myself for what was happening. I had another out of body experience. The captain of the truck came to me and asked if I was ok. I was crying and laughing at the same time. I said, “Oh sure, last year I was in a plane crash and now I’m being hit by a firetruck”. I had more physical therapy and several more months of trauma. This time I became withdrawn and agoraphobic except to see my therapist or get something to eat. With all of it, though, I kept becoming more and more psychic; I had no idea what it was or why. I would ask my mom about the voices and no one understood.
I tested the voices; it would tell me to be somewhere at a specific time and I would meet people that turned to be a strange and significant occurrence. Synchronicity, God’s plan, universal timing suddenly became a reality. I watched the world around me with a new set of eyes and ideas. I was scared, yes; I was nervous, I was excited, I was in awe. I started to say things with words and wisdom that were never a part of my scientific training or usual personality. Sure, I was philosophical but never sage-like. I was told by friends that whenever they spoke to me, events I mentioned started to happen. I had no clue but everyone said I was a psychic. So did the psychic I met in 1981 who said I was a walk-in and a psychic.
A year later, I was on my way to another interview, this time a hospital, for epidemiology. Yes, you got it, I was rear-ended in an accident by an uninsured motorist visiting from Europe, June 1983. I didn’t make the interview. Nor did I return to public health at the time. I started to look at the events and I came to realize the universe, God, was nudging me out of public health…but where to?
I start to become more spiritual and psychic hits were rampant. Fast forward to 1984 when I was driving home from work at an entertainment agency when I met with a Pinto in the middle of an intersection on a very rainy night in January, 1984. As God as my witness, you may get chills on this one. I was entering an intersection in West LA. I remember the traffic lights were out; I saw a car speeding through, thinking they were going so fast…I broadsided the Pinto. As my car spun out, I just said I wanted to go home; a white light suddenly appeared from the top of my head, through the ceiling of my Camero and into the heavens. The same voice I heard three years earlier sliding down the ramp, spoke again. This time I heard, “You can come with us now or stay and do your……” I was given a message.
The paramedics pried me out of my car with the jaws of life and when I stood up on the pavement, I yelled, “They want me off the planet! They want me off the planet!” I was taken to UCLA emergency. Finding someone to pick me up was not easy. Everyone I called asking for a ride said, “ANOTHER accident, Linda?”
My boyfriend at the time came to get me and I was home to rest. I got fired from my job the next day, accused of an action I had not participated in; I told the HR director I had just been in another accident. No one cared. I had nowhere to go or anyone to talk to. I do remember, however, while speaking with the therapist at UCLA after the plane crash, I had mentioned that I thought God put me on that plane. As any Freudian shrink would say, he asked, “God? What does God have to do with it?”
Now, 41 years later, I can tell you God had everything to do with it. I had no clue what to do with the psychic information and gifts I was developing. Twelve years passed before I accepted and embraced it. After several attempts to find work, I began waitressing and playing guitar, singing my songs around town. In 1991, I was performing in Northridge, CA with a friend of mine. I passed out at a gig and my friend had me stay at her house until I could go home.
I was hemorrhaging in the bathroom and had no idea why. After visiting my gynecologist, I was told I had a choice to take a pill, get a shot or do what I needed to save my life and have a hysterectomy. I was 37 and argued I did not want to be a statistic. The doctor offered me the choice of being a statistic of sterility or of mortality. I was too sick for band aids. I did not want to die. I had an emergency hysterectomy on March 17, 1991. I had hardly healed from what I’d been through with the accidents in the 80s.
After the surgery, a decade after the accidents began and now this?! I became a healer; energy warmed in my hands. I started healing people, including a documented case of a girl with 26 personalities I healed back into one. Her mother flew in from Arizona to thank me.
In 1992-93 it was suggested I work for Psychic Friends Network; the new 900-line business at the time. Dionne Warwick was the host of their infomercial. I was selected to be in the show in 1993. From there I rose to a bit of stardom, landed a job as the night psychic on Los Angeles’
KBIG 104FM, a major rock station out to compete with the Love Show across town. I beat out over 300 psychics and got the job. After 6 months, the station ended the segment.
The Creative Producer was so impressed with my work, he taught me to broker airtime and host my own show. This man, Fred Missman, created the Radio Psychic and I was it. He is still my greatest mentor today.
I tried Stand Up Comedy for a few years and joked that while my friends were becoming yuppies, I was become psychic. I also explained I had had a few out of body experiences but wish they’d put me back in a thin one
I had no clue how work would evolve by getting an agent or continuing to practice. I quit. I tried again in 1993, was in New York and a manager gave me his card, asking me to call him. I still have his card but never followed up. I had left Psychic Friends Network when I realized many of the readers were just reading from books I owned. I started calling the people after callers told me everything I said, happened. What? Me?
Lost and confused, applying for jobs in public health and entertainment, trying to find my place, I remember just walking on the boulevard one day, frustrated, and threw my hands up in the air and asked God what the heck (not the real word) he wanted me to do?! I had a sort of surrender to let things just happen since everything else was traumatic, dramatic and weird. I had no one to talk to. Psychic work kept coming to me. Remember this is still pre-internet which technically arrived around 1996.
From 1994-2009, I ended up on AM/FM radio, nationally syndicated in 350 markets with Cable Radio and ended my radio broadcast career on KLX 97.1 FM, a CBS affiliate. Those doors closed in February, 2009.
I had become nationally known, appeared on various TV shows of the time and suddenly found myself in search of a new purpose. However, let me back up just a moment to fill in the blanks.
After the plane crash, I became psychic; the other accidents added to it. I had surgery in 1991 and became a healer. After healing hundreds of people, I need to have over 100 angio-lipomas removed from my hips and thighs. After that surgery, March 1996, I started mediumship, communicating with the dead. I had a few mentors at the time who explained what was happening to me. I had entered the paranormal.
How do I know the tumors were from healing people? One day in the mid 90s, I placed my hands on my thighs when I was wearing shorts. I then saw the imprint and pattern of my fingers and thumbs in the exact formation of the scars on both thighs. I started analyzing even more what had happened, who I was, who I was not, where I might be going. I could no longer relate to my friends from school or who I was socializing with. Nothing was real except I was helping people in a strange way.
So, I began radio broadcasting in 1994. I went from FM to an AM station to a cable station; I went from one hour a night to two hours a night to twice a week to five times a week. I built a career from the radio and used it has my marketing tool to attract clients. No one was doing this back then or if they were, they were very few and far between. Somehow, I had become the leading radio psychic.
In 1999 I was introduced to candle magic. I was trained to assist people with issues such as love, money, luck and health. I was afraid at first and asked the Santerian priest why he would want to train me; he said I’d help people and buy from him. I’m still a customer of his today. My Wicks of Wisdom candle line was born and I’ve helped thousands of people. It is real magic. I have combined Kabbalah with Santeria and took away the occult to help. I have formulas and thousands of testimonials with gratitude.
In 2005, I returned to school to pursue a PhD in Metaphysics to qualify and quantify my science and spiritual backgrounds. Metaphysics is defined as a combination of spirituality and psychology; I counsel, predict, have a diagnostic method to cut through someone’s problem within moments of hearing their voice. I spent 18 years on radio as a psychic and helping people with readings and building a career before YouTube and the internet radio streams took over.
In 2006, I raised money from my clients to produce a TV informercial. Kris Jenner was hired as show host. She was married to Bruce at the time, pre KUWTK. I paid her a handsome sum of money We aired for several months in 2008-2009. Wicks of Wisdom succeeded but needed to be taken off the cable stations due to unforeseen issues. (NO, not even a psychic could see what hit us!)
I kept trusting God, the universe, opening up psychically, metaphysically, helping people. I could go on and on with this story. I have 1000s of testimonials in emails, letters,
stories on websites, written about in author’s books who have experienced my work or through interviews. I have worked with people from the White House to the Homeless. I have read many celebrities and predicted their careers or healed them. That’s another article in and of itself.
I am a true psychic. I see, predict and help people all the time. There is a God. He wanted me out of public health to help people spiritually. I teach the metaphysics of life.
I help people open their eyes that God can be as simple as a butterfly and not just religious. Religion and spirituality are very different. Religion is manmade..
I have worked passionately and sometimes aggressively to prove the existence of the spiritual world. Back in the 90s it was still cliché. I was a pioneer. A few shows were out there but few, if any, like mine. I brokered and no one would hire me. As an undergraduate I remember learning the definition of health as defined by the World Health Organization: health is the state of mental, physical, emotional and spiritual wellbeing and not merely the absence of disease. No one was talking about the spiritual aspects to life, health or wholeness. The holistic movement was just beginning to evolve.
It’s ok, I produced the show, hosted the show and made my name. And during this struggle with surgeries, awakenings, challenges, losses and life in general, I found a niche unlike my classmates from school who became MDs and PhDs. Me, I became a Metaphysician, more by guidance and not by choice. I am Dr. Linda on and off the air. I have many health professionals who refer their patients to me when they can no longer help. I quickly diagnose and heal a problem.
I have worked hard to prove spirituality is real. I have worked hard to combat negativity and being called names when I channeled the deceased. I was doing it before it became popular. I retired from channeling dead people in 2018 after 22 years but was left with gratitude and hundreds of testimonials. It will be a book someday.
It is difficult to explain all that happened to me to make me psychic and healer I am today. Each day was a struggle, lonely at times, exhausting and of course I was bullied. I came through it because I believe it, I lived it, practiced it and now teach it. Is it Odd or is it God? Why do things happen? Where does it all connect? Soulmates, spirituality. Karma, the afterlife. I am in a world furthest from Epidemiology but I use my medical training in treating the whole person.
How is it I have predicted careers, marriages, real estate purchases, investments; helped people heal from mental and physical ailments, many where doctors failed and I healed them. The channeling took its toll on me. I became so sensitive, I would have a headache only to find the next client on the book was asking me to channel their friend who died of a brain aneurism. Or, when I could not sleep for three days, I learned the person coming in died of sleep apnea. One time I was vomiting profusely. I called my client to say I was ill; I learned the person on the other side had passed of stomach cancer; I have read dictated suicide notes and pasta sauce recipes. I was accused of researching people online and telling stories. No, not true. I was a medium. Yes, the other side is real. Yes, a true medium can communicate, give comfort and closure. I chose to leave that world alone except on occasion when a soul comes through.
I did not explain the inner struggles but I literally let it just happen and take me where it was to. Not all was pleasant. I am just now rebranding myself as metaphysical clinician and not just a psychic. I am 68 years old and going strong. I am medical and spiritual, I see the mind, body, spirit. I am here to help and open their eyes, especially of the skeptic. It’s all real. It is nothing I learned in universities. The accidents were divine intervention to take me from Science to Psychic and Medicine to Metaphysics. There is more than meets the cognitive eye. The soul has memory. We feel, remember, live, love, lose and return. There is so much more. And as I tagged my radio show, “It’s Where Spirit Meets Reality…or is it Reality Meets the Spirit?”
Dr. Linda Salvin
Facebook: Linda Salvin