If I Did It

by The Goldman Family

  Show producers had also invited Pablo Fenjves to appear on the program with us. They were going to promote the show as “the first time the Goldmans face the ghostwriter.” We think they wanted to create some kind of drama between us, but fortunately there was nothing to exploit. Yes, when we first learned about Pablo’s participation in If I Did It as the ghost-writer, we were upset, but quickly shifted that blame where it belonged, to the killer. So bringing Pablo onto the stage with us didn’t create the dramatic moment they may have been looking for, but it did allow for a well-rounded discussion of how this book and confession came to fruition.

  The process of doing the Dr. Phil show was more positive than we had anticipated. The staff was warm and sensitive, and it didn’t hurt that the entire production team was supportive of what we had done. It was obvious that they took great pains to read and research as much as they could, and they definitely tried to understand the motivation behind our efforts. Dr. Phil certainly invested his time as well. His copy of the book was marked up with handwritten notes, highlighted sections, post-its, and index cards jutting out the sides. He completely dissected and analyzed the manuscript and came to the same conclusion we did: confession, confession, confession. At the end of his show, he made a comment (much like Oprah tried to do during our interview with her) about closure and wishing that our family would find peace in all of this. They were not the first to mention closure and certainly would not be the last.

  It has often been said that we have not “moved on” and that we are suffering from a lack of closure. This has been a point of contention for us for a very long time. Closure does not exist in a victim’s/survivor’s vocabulary. Every day that your loved one isn’t able to give you a hug or share in your joy is another day that closure is unobtainable. Living with grief is a full time job and adjusting to it is a constant struggle that you never quite master. For any victim, the memories and pain never leave you. The intensity may shift, but it never goes away. And in our situation, with the killer walking the street, we are never completely free of him. At any given moment, he can pop back up into our world or emerge to make an appearance on television. Because of his infamy, we are always at his mercy. That realization is paralyzing sometimes.

  Because the public tunes in and out of this tragedy, they forget that it’s a never-ending ordeal for us. When the news story ends, it’s just the beginning for us. When the media stops reporting, it doesn’t necessarily mean nothing is happening. It’s easy to say to us that we obsess over this case and that all we do is live and breathe it, twenty-four hours a day, but the truth is, loss is with you every waking minute. If we are out and see a white Bronco on the freeway, our minds shift for a second, but for the public, that occurrence would be meaningless. If we are watching a movie and it references something from the criminal trial, while the public may laugh, we take a deep breath to regroup.

  We have said it before: we can never expect others who have not walked in our shoes to truly understand our motivation and our determination to see this to the end. Every day the killer walks free, he pours salt in our very open wound; we cannot hide from that. But the memory of Ron gives us strength and courage. So does the belief that good outweighs evil in the end. We have to believe that we will persevere and hopefully, the killer will self-destruct some day.

  Many people have suggested that the bankruptcy proceedings, the killer’s failure to “beat us” in court, and the publication of the book are ultimately what drove him over the edge and directly led to what happened in Las Vegas. He was done in by the arrogant belief that if he can’t get what he wants, he can just take it. That is not a new theory. In fact, it’s consistent with every other major event in his life that we know about. He couldn’t control Nicole, so he beat her. He couldn’t keep her to himself, so he killed her. He was losing his belongings, so he decided to get them back. Storming a hotel room with a gun is probably not that big a deal to a guy who got away with double murder. Seems perfectly fitting to act as if you are above the law when the law has never held you accountable for any of your actions. Why would he start thinking he needed to follow the rules now?

  It makes sense to us, and we will gladly take any credit for helping drive him to the brink of insanity. We have always vowed to stay steadfast in our pursuit of him and the judgment, and to make his life a living hell. As far as we are concerned, he brutally stabbed to death two loving people who had dreams, hopes, families, and futures. He should not be able to experiencing the joys of life, the ones that he took from Ron and Nicole the night he killed them. If we can make his life miserable, force him to constantly look over his shoulder, constrain his every move, then we have accomplished our goal. If this pressure we put on him caused the killer to take risks to hide his property and deal with shady characters, and that leads him to prison, even better.

  The upcoming trial is looming, and we are experiencing a wide range of emotions. It’s hard to believe that we will bear witness to three trials with this beast and there has never been any assurance that justice would truly be achieved in any of them. This story, with all of its characters, is such an anomaly; nothing surprises us anymore. As much as the media and the public say they are “done with him,” they came out in droves for his arraignment to watch the chaos unfold. Maybe they were hoping to finally end the story of his lunacy and regain hope in our system. A majority of people in this country felt wronged by the criminal verdict, and most of us just want to see the judicial system truly work and that bad people will be punished for the crimes they commit. We are holding our breath that that day will come, hopefully in this lifetime.

  We received a gift from a very nice man. He sent us a t-shirt that depicted the killer’s mug shot from behind bars, with the simple statement “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” Could that be true in this case? We are not sure how we would feel one way or the other with the result of this case. He will never pay for the brutal murders of Ron and Nicole and that is a hard pill to swallow, but at this point, we will take whatever we can get. One can’t help but wonder: if he is actually sentenced to time in jail, what will his existence be like? Will he command respect or be treated with disdain? Will he be revered as a sports icon and hero or deplored as a wife-beater and murderer? Yes, we know we have no control over what happens behind bars, but it’s difficult to stop the thoughts from playing over and over again in our heads. To not have the guarantee that justice will ever be served is indescribable.

  Once again, we have to sit idly by while we relinquish control to the system. We are preparing ourselves for what we know will be a firestorm of lies, accusations, cover-ups, mud-slinging, and more nonsense, in an effort to acquit the killer a second time around. Despite our experience in the Criminal Courts building in Los Angeles, we have to find a way to convince ourselves that this time it will be different. We know that he will never be punished for what he did on June 12th, 1994. We will never have the true justice that we deserve, that Ron and Nicole were entitled to. Now, we have to force ourselves to believe that history won’t repeat itself in Las Vegas, and that if he did in fact commit numerous felonies, including robbery with a deadly weapon, conspiracy to commit robbery, burglary with a firearm, and kidnapping, that he will serve the maximum sentence allowed by the law. We have to resist the urge to give up hope or to think that our system only benefits the rich and famous. We will continue our pursuit of him and the justice that he escaped all those years back. We have to believe that justice prevails. We will not give up.

  “HE DID IT”

  The Goldman Family August 2007

  June 12th, 1994, Brentwood, CA

  Ron, age 25, single, no children, suffered multiple sharp force stab wounds to his neck, chest, head, abdomen, thigh, face, and hands. He suffered multiple blunt force injuries to his upper extremities. He ultimately died from four fatal stab wounds to his jugular vein, lung, and aorta.

  Nicole, age 35, divorced, mother of two, suffered multiple sharp force stab wounds to her nec
k and head. She suffered multiple injuries to her hands and fingers. She ultimately died from a deep, incised, fatal cut to her throat—lacerations to left and right arteries and left and right jugular veins.

  October 3rd, 1995, Los Angeles, CA

  Orenthal James Simpson was found not guilty of the crime of murder.

  He walked out a free man.

  February 5th, 1997, Santa Monica, CA

  Orenthal James Simpson was found liable for willfully and wrongfully causing the deaths of Ron and Nicole and it was found that he committed battery with malice and oppression.

  The jury ordered $7 million in compensatory damages and $12.5 million in punitive damages to the Goldman family.

  The jury ordered $12.5 million in punitive damages to the Estate of Nicole Brown, of which her children are the beneficiaries.

  He continues to walk as a free man.

  Ron was in the prime of his life, just about to launch his own business, when he encountered the beast that would literally cut it short in a few short minutes and change our lives forever.

  We have no interest in arguing the merits of the case and the subsequent trials. By now, a majority of the public has made its decision about his guilt or innocence; however, even thirteen years later people still passionately debate the facts of these gruesome crimes. Maybe the debate will end once you read his confession.

  We had been through much together as a family long before Ron was stabbed to death. The grief and pain of losing him could have devastated us, but in actuality it cemented our bond as a family.

  We made a commitment to Ron that no matter what, we would fight to ensure that he is remembered and that justice would be served in his honor. We felt that nothing we endured as a family would ever come close to what he suffered in the last few minutes of his precious life. That has never changed. We have never wavered. We stay committed to our promise.

  It has been almost eleven years since a jury unanimously awarded us a verdict in the civil case. At that time we were grateful that a jury of his “actual” peers saw it the way we did and saw it the way the evidence showed—that he killed Ron and Nicole. The pride that we felt was overwhelming. But as quickly as the jury returned their verdict, he pushed himself back from the table and sauntered out of the courtroom, waving to the cameras as he entered his SUV and drove off into the night. In a blink we were reminded that despite having the verdict that HE DID IT permanently inscribed on the record, he had the power to walk away. He had the audacity to go out for ice cream minutes after being told he was a killer. We were left with a piece of paper that said he owed us $19 million and he went out for cookie dough.

  The killer’s brazen disregard for the pain he caused, his endless taunting of our family, and his continued disrespect for the system that gave him his freedom—all of it empowers and motivates us to pursue this path toward justice as fervently as we have all these years.

  This book project is not the first attempt to hold him accountable. We have been chasing him all this time and he has consistently escaped our reach. He has surrounded himself with a team of “professionals” that vow, as he does, that they will do whatever they can to avoid honoring the judgment. How can that be right? The rest of us would have to pay. If you didn’t pay your phone bill, they would shut off the phone. If you were delinquent on your car insurance, your policy would be canceled. If you didn’t make a mortgage payment, your credit scores would drop. The point is that there are consequences for our actions—most of us adhere to that way of thinking; the ramifications are far too great to ignore them.

  The killer would tend to disagree. He lives his life believing he is above it all and rules that are enforceable for the rest of us don’t apply to him. And we would argue, “What else would you expect from a beast that stabs another man in the heart and nearly decapitates the mother of his children, leaving their bodies to be found by a five- and eight-year old?”

  When the judgments were handed down, some criticized us for trying to “cash in”—some called us greedy, some made anti-Semitic comments; some voices were louder than others. We struggled with that, confused by the notion that a grieving family, who would much rather have had the killer sentenced to death row, could be accused of “greed” for wanting him to be held accountable in some way. We defended ourselves constantly, explaining that we would much prefer that he be behind bars, but since that was not an option, this was our only course of action.

  We heard complaints that we were “picking on him”—that he was found not guilty and he should be left to live his life. Some even said that our efforts would hurt the kids because any money we collect would take away from them. We battled all of it because we understood how much the public supported our efforts and how much this case meant to this country on every moral, ethical, and legal level. But the whole time, one thing remained constant for us—this was about Ron, this was about justice denied, and this was about making him pay for what he did.

  The civil system could not punish him with jail time; its only recourse was to punish him by assigning “damages” for his wrongdoings. What the system didn’t give us were the resources to pursue those damages; that’s when the fight began. As we tried to satisfy the judgment, no matter what situation came our way, we were always left with the same two options: Do nothing and allow him to get away with his crimes 100%, or fight and hopefully succeed in holding him accountable for his actions. We always chose to fight. We never thought we would collect—we kept hitting walls every time we were tipped off about something he did or was paid for. It never occurred to us that we might scratch the surface of the now $38 million judgment that he owes. (The judgment increases at a rate of 10% each year. We started with $19 million, and ten years later it has essentially doubled). The judgment has always made us feel like we were playing with Monopoly money.

  The reality is that if we do succeed in the collections phase, then we will have real money. Since he is not out planting gardens or flipping burgers, the money he earns will be tainted and dirty because he is using his infamy to make it. It will be blood money because it’s coming from evil. There is no other way to reconcile that in our minds. However, the options are still the same—do nothing or fight. Our attempts to enforce this judgment have never been about lining our pockets or “cashing in,” or exploiting Ron’s death: it is our legal right. But from an emotional standpoint, it is about taking from him, it’s about making him feel the impact of what he did. It’s about hitting him where it hurts—his pockets, his livelihood. Some people have accused us of having vengeful motives but it is not about revenge, and we are not going to apologize for wanting him to feel a tenth of what we feel every day. We have suffered a great deal and want to see some measure of justice, in whatever form it must take. Sadly, we have been unsuccessful … until now.

  Leading up to the publication of his confession, we spent many, many days in court trying to collect on a “judgment-proof judgment.” Why do we call it that? He moved to Florida in order to avoid paying. Florida is a debtor-friendly state and he is taking full advantage of its laws. He is protected by the Homestead Law which safeguards his house; he lives in a right-to-work state, which means we can’t garnish his wages; he is the beneficiary of numerous pension plans, including his NFL pension. All of these amount to millions of dollars of income available to him that are 100% protected from the civil judgment. He has established companies in the names of his children to serve as “pass throughs” for his own gain. He has completely taken advantage of the system and manipulates it to avoid paying. He continues to thumb his nose at us and at the system that afforded him the ability to live and breathe outside a jail cell. He is virtually untouchable and has spent the better part of a decade laughing and mocking our family.

  So when HarperCollins announced that If I Did It, his hypothetical confession, was to be published, and it was reported that he was paid upwards of $1 million as an advance, we understandably became incensed. We launched a massive campaign to shut the book
down and held HarperCollins and Judith Regan of ReganBooks responsible for helping him defraud our family. The precedent-setting move by Rupert Murdoch to stop the book in November 2006 was a shocking response to the public outcry. At the time, we believed that this was a “how to” book about murder, so we felt relieved that HarperCollins wanted to do right by the victims’ families.

  In fact, prior to pulling the book, News Corp. (the parent company of HarperCollins) had approached our family and offered us compensation for the pain they had caused.

  Representatives flew to Indiana to meet our attorneys to discuss how they could remedy the horrific situation they had created. They threw around big dollar amounts, hoping it would help ease our pain. They knew that we were angry and offended, not only at the content but also because they contributed to his efforts to hide his earnings. We called the Brown family, specifically Denise, and explained what was happening. She encouraged us to ask for as much money as we could. “Don’t take less than $10 million,” she demanded. We took that to mean that the Brown family was willing to become part of the continued conversation with the attorneys from News Corp.

  It was over the course of a very long, very emotional, and highly stressful weekend that we contemplated accepting their offer. At that point they were telling us they wouldn’t stop the release of the book, but they never asked us to stop boycotting the project. We were torn. We were concerned about how it would appear to the public if we accepted an offer of compensation from News Corp for the pain they inflicted on our family, but then continued to speak out against the book’s publication. We knew in some ways it was a PR stunt for them to save face, but they kept telling us they wouldn’t pull the book, and this was the best they could do. We were facing an incredible dilemma. He had been paid and would continue to be paid—we couldn’t change that. The book was going to hit the stores—we couldn’t change that. We were suffering—that wasn’t changing either. Would accepting this compensation be the right thing to do?