Nicole & Troy Niehaus' Validation with their son, Jack through Mitch Ott (1)
Posted
-
- Dec
- 16
- 2025
by Elizabeth Boisson
Our hearts are so full after the incredible reading we had with Mitch Ott.
At the beginning, the name Mitch received was Rick or Ricky, which initially meant nothing to us. We didn’t type into the chat box because that name didn’t have meaning at the time. But as the reading continued, the information began to align unmistakably with our son, Jack. Even more remarkably, a dear family friend—like an aunt to Jack—was watching the gallery from New York. Moments earlier, when Mitch asked us to invite our loved ones in, she had quietly whispered to Jack, “Can you be in New York and Seattle at the same time?” When Mitch referenced a New York connection shortly after, it stopped us all in our tracks. From that point on, everything became undeniably—and beautifully—Jack.
Mitch spoke about baseball being deeply significant, especially in relation to Jack’s father. He emphasized that Jack wanted his dad to always remember those days. This could not have been more accurate. Baseball was the cornerstone of Jack’s childhood and the primary bond he shared with his father. His dad coached him from T-ball all the way through high school. Baseball wasn’t just a sport for Jack—it was his life. He had the talent to play in college, but ultimately chose a different path. Still, from the age of five, baseball shaped who he was.
Mitch also referenced investments and money matters tied to his father, which resonated strongly. Jack chose the same profession as his father. That shared professional path was yet another meaningful connection.
Mitch then described visuals of a golf course and a country club. The home where our children were raised was the very first house on a street that flanked a golf course. We lived just one street over from the country club, and we were members when the kids were young. Later in life, Jack even started a business involving a golf cart—another unexpected but perfect detail. Jack’s college summer job was also as a groundskeeper at that very golf course.
The name Rick or Ricky surfaced again during the reading. Mitch kept smirking, clearly emphasizing that it mattered, saying, “See where this comes in.” While we were still piecing that part together, it felt intentional—as if Jack was nudging us to keep paying attention.
Mitch went on to accurately describe the impact-related nature of Jack’s passing. He also validated that two people were involved. Jack passed alongside his friend in a motorbike accident; they were both on the bike, and his friend was driving. Jack expressed gratitude that we had forgiven his friend and made peace with the accident.
Jack then showed Mitch an image of a “little plane,” bringing him to a memory of a trip with his dad. The last trip Jack and his father took together was on a small private jet. This was a very special trip to Vegas to watch Formula-1 racing...a shared passion of a father and son. Mitch also clearly received the number 57—Jack’s dad is 57 years old.
Another moment that made us smile: Mitch described seeing a dog with spikes around its neck and said Jack was laughing. We have two small dogs, and because of wildlife here in the Pacific Northwest, they wear protective vests with spikes to deter eagles and coyotes. Jack always found this hilarious. He was clearly showing Mitch the “spikes” and enjoying the joke.
Mitch also mentioned a mural. Since Jack’s passing, we have had three murals painted at my retail place of business, all in his honor. The first featured a rainbow with a dragonfly, hummingbird & hearts. The most recent, completed for the holidays, is an image of Cookie Monster. This felt especially meaningful, as our very first message ever received in a gallery reading with Lisa Wilcoxson described Jack as a Cookie Monster. That same message has come through again in readings with Fara Gibson. Cookie Monster was a nickname his sister lovingly used for him, and it was even written on a box of cookies brought to honor him right after his passing. The card read, “For our Cookie Monster.”
Jack shared with Mitch, “They are wearing me.” Just three months ago, we both received tattoos in Jack’s honor, created with ink infused with his cremated remains. Jack’s dad chose a racecar (with Jack’s racing number 99), symbolizing their shared love of F-1 and, I chose the four musical notes from the song “Selfish” by Justin Timberlake. Within hours of Jack’s passing, that song came to me as a clear sign from him. The lyrics to those four notes spell out “owner of my heart,” and within the design is Jack’s signature—written in his own handwriting—making it feel as though a piece of him is truly with us, always. So yes, we are ALWAYS wearing him.
Mitch also mentioned something in a tree or connected to the holidays and said Jack felt honored by it. We have a small tree we call “Jack’s Tree,” decorated only with ornaments that hold meaning for him or represent signs we’ve received since his crossing. Mitch described his photo etched on something like a globe, which could be my HPH conference pin that I placed on his tree. Or, wonderfully enough, that same aunt in New York just sent us a glass globe ornament with Cookie Monster painted on it. Knowing Jack, he’s probably being playful again.
More than anything, we are deeply comforted knowing that he sees, he knows, and he loves his tree—and all the ways we continue to honor him.
Finally, the mystery of the name Ricky came beautifully full circle. About 36 hours after the reading, I felt nudged to send the link of Mitch’s gallery to Jack’s best friend since childhood and his roommate at the time of his passing. I wasn’t even sure he would listen to it. Not long after, he texted me in absolute awe and said, “Jack and I called each other Ricky all the time. It was an inside joke.” I stopped in my tracks. In that moment, the Ricky connection became undeniably clear. What had seemed elusive during the reading suddenly made perfect sense. Mitch had also mentioned betting, which resonated deeply once again. Jack and his friend loved betting on sports games together—just for fun. It felt unmistakable that Jack was reaching out directly to his friend, offering not one but two gentle nudges. He nudged me to send the reading, and he nudged his friend to listen. Without that divine timing, I never would have understood the significance of Ricky. Receiving that text transformed an already extraordinary reading into something even more special—remarkable, precise, and profoundly validating.
P.S. While this experience is, and always will be, about our children, I feel called to share one more meaningful moment. My dad also came through during the reading with Mitch, with striking accuracy—his illness and his rapid decline clearly described. He often appears alongside Jack in the readings we’ve had, and the message is always the same: that he has my boy. In the midst of so much loss, this brings me a deep and unexpected comfort. During this holiday season, we were given the greatest gift we could hope for—the reassurance, validation, and loving reminder that Jack, and all of our loved ones, are still here… watching over us, loving us, and sending us messages every day.
Thank you HPH, Mitch, Fara, Lisa, & all the mediums affiliated with HPH. You have truly saved our lives.
~Troy and Nicole Niehaus
Please watch the YouTube video by clicking here.