One could think of a dozen people to call for a reaction Thursday to the news that O.J. Simpson was dead.
Johnnie Cochran and Robert Shapiro, of course, part of a "dream team" of attorneys for the ex-athlete's California trial for double murder. Lance Ito and Kato Kaelin come to mind -- Ito the judge and pseudo-celebrity; Kaelin, the most noted houseguest in history.
Who can forget (though goodness knows we try) Mark Fuhrman, the private detective whose grilling by Cochran made him one that many in the courtroom wished to convict as much as Simpson? How about A.C. Cowlings, he of the white Bronco that took Simpson, then a fugitive from justice, on a tour of the Los Angeles freeways one Friday in June 1994 while the nation watched.
This list is short of a dozen names, but Marcia Clark, Chris Darden and Gil Garcetti deserve mention for their efforts in effecting justice.
And one is not to forget the late media mogul Dominick Dunne, whose mouth fell open when the jury, after a short time out, declared Orenthal James Simpson "not guilty" of the capital murders of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman, each of whom the writ of indictment described as a "human being," lest anyone lose sight.
Dunne, whose daughter, an actress, was murdered in LA, wrote long and eloquently about the Simpson case before his 2009 death. One book, "Another City, Not My Own," portrayed Dunne as the fictional writer Augustus Bailey, whom an Andrew Cunanan-like character murdered in his home while the victim watched TV.
Dunne, whose daughter did not receive full justice when the judge sympathized with the victim, so claimed the author, never doubted that Simpson was guilty of the crimes charged. It will be 30 years in October 2025 since the nation stopped to watch the verdict.
A former night co-worker (since deceased), anticipating the outcome while not absorbed with the details, said early on, "He'll walk."
Contrary viewpoints flooded the land. Cochran, using the racially charged Los Angeles environment to his client's advantage in the wake of the Rodney King case, hammered his points, however noxious, home to the jury.
The prosecution, with Clark looking like Hamilton Burger ("Perry Mason") at times, wallowed in the mire. DNA, or what we know about it, should have been enough to carry the day for the state. Yet, after Simpson tried on a piece of clothing with some difficulty, Cochran could say, "If the glove doesn't fit, you must acquit."
All that from a trial one man predicted Simpson could not win if the jury consisted of his mother and 11 former Buffalo Bills teammates.
Simpson, like the man in the office foresaw, did indeed skate on the criminal charges, though rocked in civil court. But his remains the face linked to that of the crime as the most famous American charged with murder since the late comic Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle.
If golfer Arnold Palmer, with whom he made TV spots for a rental-car firm, was America's guest, Simpson became the nation's least welcome door-knocker. Many wanted nothing to do with him, his NFL glories be damned; Los Angeles country clubs immediately put up a "Not welcome" sign, no doubt many a golf foursome going unfilled.
All the while, William Jefferson Clinton, a former Southern governor, was running for reelection (with success) to the highest office in the land. People flocked to the movies to watch Tom Hanks play the simpleton Forrest Gump, whose deeds included playing football for Alabama. Arkansas people celebrated basketball glory under coach Nolan Richardson, who like Cochran in a courtroom played the race card often, not to his employers' delight.
I will not soon forget my location on Arkansas Highway 7 one Monday morning in June 1994, driving home from Russellville after courting my future wife, when I heard the news about the double murders in LA and Simpson's possible connection. That Friday night, with Simpson a fugitive at large, remains the most memorable I ever spent in the newsroom at 300 Spring St. Try as I might, I could not get the news editor to compose the headline "Juice on the loose."
Pretty soon, as for Dr. Richard Kimble on TV years earlier, "the running stopped." And America has never been the same.