Friday, 11 January 2019

That Final Run for Freedom!

Nicole Simpson looked stunning in a black two-piece jogging suit as she trotted along the tree-lined boulevard in West Los Angeles.

Motorists took their eyes off the road to admire her shapely form. Some even tooted their horns. It was another sunny day in the wealthy, fashionable suburb of Brentwood and 35-year-old Nicole was feeling great.

She gulped in the warm air and yelled to her running partner, doctor's wife Cora Fischman: "I feel so free now. I feel like I can do anything I want."

Then she gasped: "You know what, Cora - I'm not afraid of him any more."

It was Friday, June 10, 1994, and by "him," Nicole was clearly referring to O.J. Simpson, sports legend, all-American hero and the brutal, womanizing man to whom she had been married for seven years. She had recently dashed O.J.'s last hope of reconciliation.

Four days later, Ron Hardy, neighbor and good friend of Nicole, washed away a "river of blood" from the tiled entrance to her Bundy Drive condominium - blood that had gushed from the horrendous stab wounds inflicted on her body and that of her waiter friend, Ronald Goldman, 25.

"It was the most macabre feeling," Hardy tells STAR. "Nicole's cousin Rolf Baur was helping me, but he couldn't handle it. It was too much for the poor guy. He had to go inside.

"I hosed down the tiles and thought: 'I've got to get the place clean for Nicole.' Then as I brushed away the last drop of blood, I realized: 'She won't be coming back here. This is her I'm sweeping away. This is my final contact with her: I've only got my memories now.'"

Such memories are part of a fascinating, and sometimes shocking, STAR investigation into Nicole's tormented world - details gathered from the people who knew her best.

Nicole was barely 18 when she met O.J. a year after her graduation from Dana Point High School in Southern California. She was a waitress at the Daisy Club in Beverly Hills. He was 30 and smitten.

She was thrust into a world of fast cars, designer clothes and jet-set travel. And by the time Nicole became his second wife in 1985, she was already familiar with the dark side of O.J. - his violent temper, his regular use of cocaine and his rampant womanizing.

Cora Fischman says that Nicole was well aware of the other women.

"But she loved O.J. so much she was able to live with it for years. It was part of her denial. They had kids and she wanted to keep the family together," recalls Cora.

But the final straw for Nicole after seven years of stormy marriage, was learning that O.J. had shared a string of women with Magic Johnson - who later revealed he was HIV-infected.

Sources tell STAR that Nicole "went ballistic" after being told by girlfriends that O.J. had taken part in orgies at the basketball star's Bel-Air home.

"It was one of the biggest explosions of their entire marriage and this time O.J. was on the receiving end," says another pal of Nicole.

O.J. had "reluctantly" moved out and based himself at the villa he owned in Laguna Beach. Six weeks later, after phoning Nicole up to 10 times a day and telling her he'd "turned over a new leaf," he was still on the outs.

But with Christmas approaching, Nicole did get back on speaking terms with O.J., but only to reiterate her divorce plans.

"The Magic Johnson connection wasn't the sole reason for her seeking to divorce O.J.'" according to the friend. "And it wasn't the main reason, either. The hideous physical torment that she suffered was the underlying reason for ending the marriage.

"But the frightening specter of O.J.'s link to Magic and the accompanying AIDS fears was the final straw. She thought: 'He batters me, abuses me... and now you could give the AIDS virus. I've had enough.'"

A couple of months later they were legally separated.

Kris Jenner, the wife of Olympic decathlon champ Bruce and a longtime friend of Nicole: "Nicole and O.J. were unique. When she was married to him, there was no better wife. She was a great wife and a great mom.

"But O.J. controlled Nicole. I came to realize how controlled she really was."

Star Magazine (October 25 1994)

White AND Blonde? Exercise Control Man!

Sometime during the preliminary hearings I felt a vast and utter repugnance for the whole bloody shebang and its muddy aftermath; I found myself viscerally unable to read one more word of commentary.

I was sick of human behavior, including my own, and of analyses of human behavior.

A man with a planed and beautiful face had allegedly killed his ex-wife (a woman with a partygoing face and a spectacular body) and her friend (Ron Goldman, doomed, it would appear, to be an historical footnote; murdered, one might say, twice over).

I assumed Mr. Simpson's guilt on the evidence available to me.

Mr. Simpson (you can't think I will call him O.J.) had hitherto barbarically beaten and terrorized Nicole Brown Simpson - bodybuilding and apparent vacuity not being mitigating factors in her fearful alarm or exculpatory factors in his demented actions - and he had, as a consequence, left behind two innocent children.

(Innocent, as regards children, is a redundancy; but the offspring of murdered parents live all their lives in the weird light of ineffable sophistication and blamelessness, the only word for which we can find is innocence.)

My repugnance was indistinguishable from a kind of fever: It was nausea and revulsion; like any illness, it became itself the focus of intense interest to me, so that finally my questions were about myself and not - perhaps I should be embarrassed to admit - about Mr. Simpson or even about his victims, lying (in my forever-stained imagination) in a sludgy river of blood.

May I say, without incurring wrath, that I didn't like her face?

May I also say: So what? Whether she had a "good" face is neither here nor there. I don't care. I don't care what she did or didn't do to incur his deranged anger. Fuck him. He's a man, isn't he? Thus by definition, given to exercising control.

So why didn't he exercise control over his bad self?

Don't tell he couldn't. It is the civilized imperative not to give in to acts of savagery - the strong must learn, if necessary to compensate for their strength, just as the weak have had to learn (pity us all) to compensate for their weaknesses.

I do also heterodoxically believe that women provoke men. We do it with words, and we do it with our bodies. So what?

Some women choose not to be weaponless in a world they perceive to be a battlefield in which they are, if not outnumbered, out- or overmanned. And some women have bad characters, just as others have bad tempers. So what?

If a woman were a slut and a spendthrift, a tease and a user (and I don't mean to imply that Nicole Brown Simpson was any of those things), a man is still not allowed to hit her. Period. It is not permissible.

If a woman were to get down on all fours and beg for a beating, a man who was truly a man would not oblige. This may be unfair to men. So what. Life isn't fair, ask any woman. In a folie à deux that involves a beating, a man is culpable. Always.

Isn't it all odd. I've been waiting and waiting, but the words white and blonde have not been a featured part of the equation; racism seems not to be what all this is about. Celebrity is what this is about, no? Wouldn't we treat Joe Namath (or whoever the new hot white football player is) in exactly the same way?

And yet, in a racist country, how could race - his blackness, her whiteness - not be on the agenda? Is it, sub rosa? What does it not infect, after all? Is the very fact that so little has been made of the interracial nature of their marriage proof - as someone told me - that racism is the primary issue? How is it?

... Unable to sleep, I watch an old Hitchcock TV mystery in the early hours of the morning. It has something, I dimly perceive to do with sports. At the end, Mr Hitchcock says: "I am quite the athlete, don't you know? My favourite sports are chess, falconry, and wife beating."

What is wrong with men?

Why is a man who carries a ball to fame a role model? What exactly is it people thought O.J. Simpson had to teach them? What role?

Does it matter anymore?

Barbara Grizzuti Harrison Mother Jones (October 1994)

Roses Are Red and YOU Will Be Dead!

O.J. Simpson heaped so much abuse on his ex-wife Nicole during the final months of her life, she plunged into zombie-like states of depression and had to be snapped  back to reality.

That's just one of the chilling revelations from her trusted housekeeper who watched O.J. destroy the woman he claimed to love.

In a world exclusive ENQUIRER interview, Elvia Alonzo - who lived with Nicole and her two children right up until the young beauty's death - speaks out for the first time.

Nicole hired Guatemala-born Elvia, 40, last December 15 on the recommendation of a friend. The housekeeper moved into Nicole's rented home on Gretna Green Way in the Los Angeles suburb of Brentwood.

In January, Nicole and her children, and Elvia moved to a nearby two-story town house on Bundy Drive.

The housekeeper had a room on the first floor of the home. She worked Tuesday through Saturday, cooking, cleaning, shopping and baby-sitting Nicole's youngsters.

On Sunday and Monday, her days off, Elvia stayed at a friend's home.

"I've never met a sweeter more beautiful lady than Nicole," said Elvia. "We hit it off almost immediately and became very close. She felt she could trust me and confided in me."

The housekeeper first got to meet O.J. three days before Christmas last year when she went along with Nicole and the children to visit him. Elvia said the gridiron hero seemed completely normal. She never suspected it would be Nicole's last Christmas alive.

"The tree was up and lighted and the children were all excited," she recalled. "I'll never forget the faces of the kids, O.J. and Nicole in a picture taken next to the tree. That was one occasion when O.J. was delightful."

But Elvia soon learned there was a dark side to the former football star when she started to see his terrifying split personality firsthand - and what it did to Nicole.

"He'd come over to the house to play with the kids and he was happy and smiling and really enjoying himself," said the housekeeper. "The next visit, sometimes just days later, he would arrive, kiss Nicole on the cheek and within minutes they'd be arguing. He'd be a raging maniac - totally out of control. He was like a madman.

"I thought to myself, 'Here's a guy who is really sick. He needs help."

Incredibly, O.J. always showered Nicole with flowers after an outburst, trying to recapture the love he'd destroyed.

"O.J. would send Nicole dozens of red roses and assorted houseplants. They were all over the house," said Elvia. "I remember saying to Nicole after one delivery: 'See, O.J. loves you.'

"But Nicole looked at me, shook her head and her eyes filled with tears as she confided to me: 'Oh, no, O.J. doesn't love me. I think he's going to kill me!'"

There was always a little note with the flowers but Nicole would rip them up, except for the one that the housekeeper saved.

O.J. tried to be romantic but the note is cold and unemotional: "There are so many positives and negatives in life today. Let's you and I focus on just the positive. Love O.J."

The National Enquirer (October 11 1994)