Michael Stellitano says he can heal people, even pets, over the phone. The Las Vegan has written a book about his abilities.
Friday, Sept. 19, 2008 | 2 a.m.
Audio Clip
- Telepathic healer Michael Stellitano descriebs the first time he healed someone.
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Audio Clip
- Stellitano talks about coming to Las Vegas.
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Remote Energy Healer Michael Stellitano
Beyond the Sun
Michael Stellitano is a faith healer (nondenominational). He says he can heal you or your pet — over the phone.
Stellitano says he will reach into your mind and fill it with a blue light, pass along a certain word and drive your pain away. Over the phone.
He says he has always had this power, but considers it nothing special. You, too, can acquire it by reading his book ($19.95, plus $4 shipping and handling). He says he heals with an energy that operates quantum mechanically and possibly involves string theory.
Stellitano was born in Hopewell, N.J., and his original career was as a singer, first of country music and then of Sinatra-type standards. He moved to Vegas to emcee a topless show at a club called the Pussycat. But his powers kept haunting him, consuming him. So for the past 20 years, he’s worked as a healer.
And now fame beckons.
He recently healed a reporter for the Sun tabloid, a weekly supermarket magazine of no relation to this Sun, which Stellitano says is writing a story about him. It could be his big break. After that, who knows? George Noory’s paranormal radio on “Coast to Coast AM”? Dare he say it, Oprah?
This Las Vegas Sun reporter gives him a call, seeking healing from the aches caused by moving and installing a stove.
Stellitano asks my name, the color of my hair and eyes and my general build. He makes sure I’m in Las Vegas.
He tells me not to pray or meditate while he works.
Thirty seconds pass. He tells me not to do anything to help him.
After 30 more seconds, he asks whether I feel any different. Nope.
He’s waiting for one word to pop into my head so that he’ll know he’s connected with me. He won’t tell me what word. He’s waiting for me to say it. My mind, alas, is blank.
Two minutes in, he asks whether my body feels any different. Nope.
Four minutes in, he asks whether my mind feels different, is it chattering? Nope.
This is very unusual, he says.
Five minutes. Nope.
Has my body relaxed? Nope.
He tells me I may not be a feeler. We continue.
The blue light does not come and my pain does not abate.
Seven minutes in, he gives up. I’m definitely not a feeler. One in 100.
Next morning, the pain goes away for hours.
Glad I took those three Aleve.
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