Can We Find Meaning in O.J. Simpson’s Death?

The death of O.J. Simpson brings me back to what was also a pivotal year for me: 1994. Thirty years ago this June, the shocking murders of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman happened. A few days later, the Bronco chase down the highway, covered live on every television station.

And sixteen months later, after a long trial that had more twists and turns than an Agatha Christie novel, a verdict: not guilty.

Despite the verdict, there was never any other plausible suspect and no other explanation was forthcoming over the next three decades. It was O.J. Simpson and everyone knew it. There was plenty of speculation about how he did it — was it carefully planned or was it a moment of rage — but the whodunit had already been solved. But we had an expensive, charismatic defense team, a botched investigation, and the race card to put just enough doubt in jurors’ minds.

But talk about binge-worthy viewing. In those days, hot shows or news events talked about at work were called “water cooler” conversations. I have to remind myself that there was no social media and no cell phones thirty years ago. It’s hard to believe because everybody was talking about it with their friends and, perhaps in more hushed tones, at work.

The verdict came around lunch time on October 3, 1995. The world literally…