The varied memories of O.J. Simpson come busting through

Just thinking again about O.J. Simpson, who died from cancer Wednesday at age 76, hurts my brain.

Like many of us, I had put him and his legacy on the far back burner, heat turned off. I was finished with those days when he dominated the news, when he drilled into our brains and wouldn’t leave.

I had enjoyed his football rushing supremacy, his culture-changing Hertz commercials, his “Monday Night Football” commentary, his ensuing comedic movie stardom. But then there was the slasher murder of ex-wife Nicole Brown Simpson and her friend Ron Goldman, and the multi-ringed sideshow that O.J.’s fully televised criminal trial produced.

My God, it was a circus tent, filled with everything reality TV could want. Blood? Fame? Race-baiting? Inept policing? Racism? Cool forensics? Lawyer grandstanding? All there.

Even a long-haired wannabe actor named Kato Kaelin, living in O.J.’s guest house and nicknamed “America’s Houseguest,” became briefly famous. The dude took the stand like Jeff Spicoli wandering in from the set of “Fast Times at Ridgemont High.”

I was there by the upstairs elevators just outside the Los Angeles courtroom on the day of the criminal trial verdict in October 1995, and I’ll never forget a wide-eyed attorney walking out before the end, telling me he’d never in his life seen such a militant jury — and that it was guaranteed there’d be no conviction.

There wasn’t. But in the civil trial that followed, Simpson was indeed found responsible for the deaths of the pair, owing their families millions of dollars. I always wondered how somebody could be sort of responsible for cutting two people to pieces. There was never another suspect, and prosecutors had listed 62 times Simpson had abused his wife in the past.

The death of O.J. Simpson

News

O.J. Simpson dies at 76

A message posted Thursday on Simpson’s official X account — formerly Twitter — said he died after battling cancer.

By Ken Ritter | AP

 

Crime

Hotel near O'Hare played brief role in O.J. case: 'He was tired. He wanted to go to bed'

O.J. Simpson stayed briefly at the O’Hare Plaza Hotel — now a Holiday Inn — the day after the bodies of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman were found in Los Angeles. Law enforcement officials combed his room and scoured a nearby lot to look for bloody evidence.

By Emmanuel Camarillo

 

Entertainment and Culture

Ito, Kato and the getaway Bronco: How O.J. Simpson's murder case spawned a circus

Frenzy over the star’s alleged crimes turned many side players — from Faye Resnick to Johnnie Cochran — into dubious celebrities.

By Richard Roeper

 

Columnists

The varied memories of O.J. Simpson come busting through

Has there ever been an athlete — I could almost say, has there ever been a man? — who rose to such a peak in life and then descended into such a valley?

By Rick Telander

 

Commentary

O. J. Simpson's murder trial exposed America's great divide

Simpson’s death won’t bring an end to debate over his acquittal on murder charges.

By Mary Mitchell

 

Columnists

O.J. Simpson is gone, but the division his life reflected remains

The legacy Orenthal James Simpson leaves behind is painful, a study of what truly drives American culture.

By Scoop Jackson

 

Celebrities

OJ Simpson ‘completely free’ as parole ends in Nevada

The 74-year-old former football hero and actor, acquitted California murder defendant and convicted Las Vegas armed robber was granted good behavior credits and discharged from parole effective Dec. 1.

By Ken Ritter | Associated Press

 

Columnists

O.J. Simpson is gone, but the division his life reflected remains

The legacy Orenthal James Simpson leaves behind is painful, a study of what truly drives American culture.

By Scoop Jackson

 

Entertainment and Culture

O.J. Simpson says ‘life is fine’ 25 years after infamous murders

The 71-year-old Simpson sats he is healthy and happy living in Las Vegas. And neither he nor his children want to look back by talking about June 12, 1994.

By Associated Press

 

But long before those trials and the famous Ford Bronco drifting slowly up the freeway, there was O.J. the star running back at USC, and the record-shattering 2,003 yards he gained in one season for the Bills. Man, was O.J. a beautiful runner. He was a magician on grass — large, fast, elusive.

I was on the same field with him when Northwestern played USC at Dyche Stadium in Evanston on Sept. 28, 1968. It was a lovely fall day, I remember well, and being but a sophomore bomb-squad kickoff-coverage guy and backup wide receiver at the time, I watched Simpson whenever USC had the ball. His helmet was huge, as I recall. I think he had a very large head, which is good for acting, they say. I loved the deep, rich, crimson color of the Trojans’ helmets. Especially his.

But what really got me was the way he ran hunched over and drifting, until he got near the blocking area and then would explode through the smallest crack. He was a former track sprinting star, and it showed. I remember future Packers coach Mike Holmgren was a backup quarterback for USC that day. I also remember we lost 24-7, and that in our first five games we lucky Wildcats played the Nos. 1, 2, 3 and 5-ranked teams in the country, with USC being No. 3. So it goes.

In later years, I would bump into Simpson occasionally on the NFL beat. He was always courteous and a gentleman. He gave me thoughtful material when Walter Payton was about to break Jim Brown’s NFL career rushing record.

But what was underneath? O.J’s childhood had been a poverty-laden, traumatic one. He had rickets when young from nutritional deficiencies, wore braces on his legs and suffered under an often-absent father who performed as a drag queen in San Francisco.

Then he became the darling of the white sports-loving world. I always figured he did a lot of covering up, suppressing a lot of inner turmoil. He had to. Nothing about his ascent was normal.

And I wondered if there ever has been an athlete — I could almost say, has there ever been a man? — who rose to such a peak in life and then descended into such a valley.

He rushed for 1,709 yards and 22 touchdowns in that 10-game 1968 season, and at the end he won the Heisman Trophy. No one could have predicted how his life would go from that moment on, although some kind of football success seemed certain.

But the rest? The domestic rage, the cutting, the shrunken gloves, the 95 million people watching on TV as Al Cowlings drove the Bronco and OJ threatened suicide in the back seat? Nobody could have predicted that. And nobody in their right mind would have.