‘Long Island Medium’ Theresa Caputo Captivates Believers at Harrah’s Resort
Are you a believer? Do you think some people can truly talk to the dead?
When it comes to mediums, people often fall on one side or the other: the believers and the skeptics.
For centuries, psychics and mediums have often been dismissed as con artists preying on the vulnerable. Skeptics argue that mediums rely on vague statements, suggestive questions, and a sharp ability to read social cues rather than any genuine connection to the afterlife. Despite this legacy of doubt, believers are equally convinced that at least some mediums possess a genuine gift and can communicate with those who have passed on.
One of the most recognizable figures in this space is New York mother and grandmother Theresa Caputo, better known as the “Long Island Medium” from the TLC series of the same name that aired from 2011 to 2019. Over the years, Caputo has transformed her gift into a thriving career with four New York Times bestselling books, a podcast (“Hey Spirit!”), and a new Lifetime series, “Theresa Caputo: Raising Spirits,” now streaming on Hulu and other platforms.
Suffice it to say, the affable medium has a massive fanbase and, full disclosure, I am among them. I regularly watched “Long Island Medium” and was always impressed with her ability to zero in on specifics that only the person she was reading could have known. I also found myself drawn to Caputo because she reminded me of my New York relatives: outspoken and direct but also funny and compassionate.
So, when I heard she was bringing her touring show, “Theresa Caputo Live: The Experience,” to Harrah’s Resort Southern California on Jan. 17, I jumped at the chance to be in the audience. Like many, I’ve experienced loss in my life, and I was hopeful one of my loved ones might break through and Caputo would come my way.
Following an introduction that felt both lengthy and rushed — during which Caputo explained her abilities (she said she never felt normal as a child) and process (she often receives signs or symbols and has learned over 20-plus years as a practicing medium how to translate these images into a Spirit vocabulary of sorts — but it’s up to the person receiving the reading to make the connection) — she stepped down from the stage and into the eager audience.
It only took a few seconds for Caputo to start feeling a constricted throat and labored breathing. She pointed to a specific area in the first few rows and asked if anyone had lost someone to suffocation or hanging, and hands shot up. She spent quite a while with a woman whose loved one had taken his own life. Following a series of exchanges, Caputo asked, “What does the number 10 mean to you?” and she immediately broke into tears. “That was the number he wore on his football jersey,” she said.
This level of detail characterized much of Caputo’s process. The medium — short in size, tall in hair and heels — made her way through the front of the audience, following signals to specific areas. It didn’t matter if the loss was attached to a drowning, gunshot or accidental overdose, Caputo zeroed in on a number, color, or object, such as a piece of jewelry or article of clothing. She wouldn’t have the answers, only getting clues from the other side, and after sharing them with individuals she would often repeat the phrase, “Do you understand?” or “Does that sound fair?”
Unfortunately, Caputo seemed to get stuck in the first six rows. Apparently there were a lot of very vocal, strong-willed spirits up front. She did make some deeply moving connections. One particularly poignant moment came when she read a woman who recently lost her husband to an undiagnosed illness. It was a sad story made even more heartbreaking when the woman revealed that she has lost five members of her family to tragic, often unexplainable circumstances. Perhaps more than anyone here tonight, this grieving widow needed this moment of consolation and confirmation that her loved ones are at peace.
This isn’t to say that Caputo’s messages always hit their mark. For example, channeling a man’s mother, she relayed that his mom said, “The least you could do is cook one of my dishes!” to which he flatly replied, “I cook all of my mom’s dishes.” Another time, when delivering a message to a woman who lost her 12-year-old grandchild to cancer, Caputo shared that the child didn’t want her to feel like she wasn’t there for her in her final days. The woman countered, emphasizing that she was there. While skeptics might consider moments like these signs of disingenuity, believers could view them as proof of the medium’s authenticity. If everything was flawless, wouldn’t that be suspicious?
Midway through the 90-minute show, Caputo said something that struck a chord with me: “There’s fear and there’s faith. You can’t have both; you have to pick one.” She said this to comfort a woman struggling to reconcile her loss with her faith, but the sentiment felt universal, touching on the core divide between believers and skeptics. After all, isn’t faith itself the belief in something unseen and unproven?
Seemingly recognizing her time was almost up, Caputo quickly moved to the other side of the audience but she never made it to the back of the 2,200-seat Events Center. As she circled the crowd to return to the stage, her purpose tonight was clear: to help people heal, get closure, and open themselves up to re-embracing life.
Spirit didn’t guide her to me, but I wasn’t disappointed because I knew the people who did receive messages needed them far more than I did. For them, the experience was transformative; for me, it was a powerful reminder of the human need for connection — whether to each other or to those we’ve lost.
Donovan Roche is a longtime arts and entertainment writer and editor based in San Diego.
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