I learned about the death of O.J. Simpson on Thursday in a text from my daughter.
I felt nothing because Simpson was long ago dead to me.
"On April 10th, our father, Orenthal James Simpson, succumbed to his battle with cancer," the Simpson family announced in a statement that was published Thursday morning on his verified social media account.
Finding out from my daughter was a full circle moment for me. I remember the night of June 17, 1994, when the Los Angeles police commissioner announced that Simpson was wanted for the murder of his ex-wife, Nicole Brown Simpson, and her friend Ron Goldman.
Our memories of Simpson will always be stained.
As we watched on television, my then-teenage daughter asked: “What does it mean, Dad?”
“It means that they think he killed them,” I replied.
It was a disturbing moment.
Before the subsequent white Bronco chase, my daughter remembered Simpson as the Buffalo Bills hero who sang “Happy Birthday” to her on her 13th birthday. It happened as I ended one of many telephone interviews with Simpson after he became a sports commentator. When I told Simpson it was my daughter’s birthday, he asked me to put her on the phone to wish her a happy birthday.
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Some organizations and people with ties to Simpson remained quiet after news of his death, others had some words to share.
That friendly and thoughtful side of Simpson experienced by members of the media was recalled throughout Thursday’s television coverage of his death at age 76.
It might have been genuine, but it also proved beneficial to Simpson. He was so charming that the media failed to adequately cover the dark side of Simpson, which included his physical abuse of Nicole Brown Simpson years before her death.
I wasn’t immune to his charms.
I interviewed Simpson first as a sportswriter who covered his Hall of Fame playing days as a Bill, and later as a TV critic who covered his sportscasting career.
Nobody in Buffalo – and very few people in America – were as close to O.J. Simpson as Michael Militello.
A year before the murders, I spent a day riding around Los Angeles in his 1989 Bentley before the Bills’ 52-17 Super Bowl loss to Dallas. At the time, he was dating a model, Paula Barbieri.
Simpson wasn’t happy when one of his friends, NFL star Marcus Allen, called to tell him that his wife had invited Brown Simpson to a party that Simpson and Barbieri were going to attend. He proceeded to tell me he and Brown Simpson still loved each other, but they just couldn’t be together at that time. He wasn’t ruling out an eventual reconciliation. I didn’t think much of it, except for being flattered that Simpson felt comfortable enough with me to share his feelings.
The Bronco chase made me think back to my Bentley ride.
It's OK for Buffalo Bills fans to have fond memories of O.J. Simpson's playing career while also lamenting his off-the-field behavior.
I didn’t want Simpson to be guilty of an unspeakable crime. After all, I was as charmed by Simpson as everyone else. He was one of Buffalo’s biggest heroes. He had transcended race and became an advertising superstar. But I couldn’t keep the car ride conversation out of my head. As more details emerged of Simpson’s jealousy, I concluded that the genuine love he expressed for Brown Simpson combined with that jealousy most likely led to the unthinkable and unspeakable murders.
The televised “Trial of the Century” removed all doubt.
The reports of Simpson’s death spoke of his complicated legacy. To me, it wasn’t all that complicated.
Here is a look at O.J. Simpson's life timeline.
I believe he murdered his wife.
That is why I reposted some comments about Simpson’s death from sportscaster Jeremy Schaap. “Anyone who has seriously looked at the evidence … would have come to the conclusion that he was a murderer. And so am I filled with sorrow today? I’m not.”
Bob Costas, who worked with Simpson and considered him a friend, added this on Friday’s edition of “Today.” “It is impossible to even postulate anyone but O.J. Simpson committed these crimes,” Costas said.
Simpson was acquitted of the crimes by a Los Angeles jury in a case that was brought shortly after police officers were acquitted in the beating of Rodney King, despite video evidence of what they had done. The acquittal of Simpson led to different split screen reactions from African Americans who had witnessed racial injustices throughout history, and white people who saw the evidence as overwhelming.
In 1997, he was found liable for the deaths of his ex-wife and Goldman in a civil trial.
Of course, Simpson’s death led all the local and national newscasts Thursday. It was a difficult balancing act. I watched the coverage to see if a proper balance was made between his football career and the widespread belief, despite the acquittal, that he was a murderer.
Whit Johnson, who was subbing for David Muir on ABC’s national newscast, had the proper balance at the top of the newscast. He called Simpson “a former murder defendant, disgraced football star and actor.”
On “The NBC Nightly News with Lester Holt,” legal expert Cynthia McFadden explained the difference between being found not guilty and being innocent, as Simpson claimed he was.
The local stations were naturally looking for something to differentiate their coverage.
I didn’t want to hear from former Bills teammates or media members talking about what a good guy he was, though I knew it was going to be part of the story. Sure enough, WGRZ-TV’s (Channel 2) Kelly Dudzik interviewed a former Bills teammate of Simpson’s, Hall of Famer Joe DeLamielleure, who said they never discussed the murders.
WIVB-TV (Channel 4) interviewed local attorney Paul Cambria, who was an analyst during the murder trial. He said some people saw Simpson as a football hero and others thought of him as a “monster and treated him as such.”
WKBW-TV (Channel 7) anchor Jeff Russo interviewed retired anchor Keith Radford from his winter home in Naples, Fla., about covering the trial and interviewing Simpson a decade after the murders. Radford recalled the one stipulation was that he couldn’t ask Simpson about the murders. He added that he didn’t have to ask because Simpson brought it up himself. Radford added that he probably should have been tougher with Simpson during the interview. In an interview before his retirement, Radford conceded, “I was too easy on him.”
Of course, he was not alone. Simpson’s charisma was disarming. He knew how to play the media.
In a time of increasing hero worship, he is a constant reminder to all our daughters and sons that we don’t really know celebrities by their outward behavior.