The Redemption of a Psychic

David Marius Guardino: The Redemption of a Psychic
By Barbara J. Guardino

Who would pay $10,000 for psychic advice from a man sitting in a mental hospital awaiting trial for credit card fraud? Why, the rich and famous, of course!

My con artist brother David Marius Guardino counted on that, billing himself as “The World’s Greatest Psychic” to people who should have known better.

David rose to prominence in the world of the occult in the 1970s. His signature claim to fame is the well documented séances that he held in Graceland Mansion, when he supposedly contacted the deceased King of Rock-n-Roll, Elvis Presley.

For more than three decades, he hoodwinked celebrities, businesspeople and politicians into believing he could make others do their bidding. Yet, what he preached to others seemed totally contradictory to his own life. A business consultant, he had no apparent business sense. He freely gave out advice on building successful relationships, yet he married nine times. He claimed that his psychic powers were a gift from God, although he described himself as an atheistic existentialist and hedonist.

“It seems that people will believe in just about anything, as long as it’s not God,” observes David’s mother Harriet Guardino, age 88.

David’s flamboyant Las Vegas lifestyle deeply embarrassed his parents and siblings. But his mother refused to give up on her eldest son. She kept a journal detailing the intense spiritual battle that she was fighting on David’s behalf.

David came to believe that he possessed psychic gifts in 1967 while attending the Naval Officers Candidate School in Newport, Rhode Island. Disillusioned by the Vietnam War, he went to the chapel to pray for spiritual direction. He later told a newspaper reporter that 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.

A few years later, while employed as a state welfare worker in Tillamook, Oregon, David began dating a young girl who claimed to be psychic. He took over management of his girlfriend’s psychic business. That relationship failed, but he saw that a psychic could make money, and became a psychic business consultant, under the name “Jamil”.

David/Jamil soon ran afoul of the law after clients alleged he failed to make good on his promises—re-growing hair on a bald head, healing a quadriplegic, and enticing a boyfriend into marriage. His business partners duped him into giving them his business and demoting him to employee status. The Oregon Attorney General barred him from conducting business in Oregon. He moved to Las Vegas and continued practicing under his real name.

He soon ran afoul of the law in Nevada, and was charged with several counts of credit card fraud, totaling nearly $100,000. Facing a possible 190 years in federal prison, David suffered a nervous breakdown and was hospitalized.

His father Monte wrote a letter to David’s five siblings explaining the situation. It read in part: “Dave is on tranquilizers and writes a letter daily to his psychiatrist as part of his recovery therapy. He suffers from deep depression and is in and out of reality. … He is still conducting his business by phone, which his doctor agreed was the best therapy for him.”

In August, 1989, Dave was sentenced to two concurrent five-year terms of imprisonment. He was admitted to the Federal Medical Center in Rochester, Minnesota, a federal prison that houses the criminally insane.

After his release three years later, he hit the ground running. He continued operating his psychic business in Tennessee through two more decades and four more wives.

But David’s dream of becoming the world’s richest man began to unravel. Wife number eight turned him in to the Internal Revenue Service for nonpayment of taxes on $1 million.

Dave’s health also deteriorated. He developed a tumor on his neck, and became severely diabetic as a result of obesity. He was hospitalized many times for his ailments. His relatives and associates began to turn away from him, and his business began to dry up.

Finally, 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 witness to him about the Lord. With prison time staring him down once again, he telephoned my mother, desperate and despondent. She suggested he contact Catholic Charities in Knoxville, which runs an emergency housing program for elderly people in crisis.

On October 4, 2006, a priest known only as Father Joe visited David for an intake interview. He heard David’s confession and served him communion. As a result of this break-though, David began attending Catholic Church regularly for the first time since he was a child.

My mother’s 30-year prayer vigil had finally paid off.

In February 2007, David faced an earthly judge who was not as forgiving as our Lord. The judge sentenced him to 21 months for tax evasion. He entered Federal Correctional Institution, a prison for inmates with medical issues, in Fort Worth, Texas.

Three months later he collapsed and was rushed to the hospital, confused and trembling. His stomach was greatly enlarged and he was in tremendous pain. He wrote a letter to his attorney, which apparently was never mailed: “Dear Jonathan, I’m being sent to the hospital. I’ll stay in touch. Get me home before I die!”

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

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 service. No other song would suffice!