In part one attorney Peter Haven took us behind the scenes of OJ Simpson’s attempt to defraud the Goldmans with the publishing of a book ‘If I Did It’. In Part two Peter takes a long hard look at Simpson’s life and crimes prior to his incarceration for armed robbery.

He also makes some interesting comments about Simpson’s behavior, which portray OJ as a cunning though not entirely successful manipulator.

If you want to learn more about Peter Haven and this fascinating story tune in Sunday at 2pm and we will be broadcasting a live interview with Peter. Just come to www.bloggernews.net and click on the Listen Live button on the right hand side of the main page. Joining me to talk with Peter will be Sean Krause of Thedailybs.com and Mondo from www.dbkp.com, this will be a lively discussion.

O.J. Simpson’s Last Stand

After the murders, Simpson essentially was banished from his Los Angeles kingdom, and he was exiled to Miami.  But he still enjoyed a pretty nice life there, with a beautiful home (which could not be taken from him), an attractive girlfriend (who looked a lot like Nicole), a healthy income from various pensions (which could not be touched), and lots of fresh air, sunshine, and golf.  And he had all the time in the world to spend with his children, without any of the alleged interference of their mother.  Considering that he dodged a potential death sentence in Los Angeles, his life in Miami was pure heaven.

Simpson just could not go quietly away and count his blessings.   He taunted and ridiculed Fred from afar.  Why?  A civil jury had concluded, by clear and convincing evidence, that Simpson murdered Nicole and Ron, and that Simpson was liable for their deaths.  Even if Simpson was innocent of the murders (which I do not believe for one minute), could Simpson blame Fred or anyone else for believing that Simpson had committed the murders?  Could Simpson blame Fred for doing everything he could to try to enforce the civil judgment?  Yet Simpson continued to ridicule, hate, and tease Fred at every opportunity, and Simpson’s lawyers were no better.  During our pursuit of the book, Galanter was quoted as calling Fred a “greedy pig.”  In my opinion, neither Galanter nor Simpson was entitled to make such criticisms.  Fred had every reason to hate Simpson.  Simpson had no legitimate reason to hate Fred.

And Simpson was virtually untouchable in Miami.  There was little we could do to enforce the civil judgment there.  All Simpson had to do was live out his idyllic life in Miami, stay out of trouble, and endure Fred’s existence far away.  Simpson just could not do it.

Simpson stepped out of his fortress and wrote his book, If I Did It, which was a shameless attempt to try to win back public support despite his most heinous of crimes.  Simpson even tried to maintain the trump card of an “if” hypothetical.  He wanted to tell the world his version of why he did it, in the hopes that the world would somehow forgive him, but if anything went wrong, then he would say that it was all merely make believe.  In dictating the work to his ghostwriter, Pablo Fenjves, Simpson even supplied certain incorrect facts, which he later cited in support of his claim that the whole thing was fiction, and he had nothing to do with it.

Simpson tried to distance himself from his book, but he could not completely let go of it.  When the Goldmans took that book away from him, they took away his stage, his platform to try to tell everyone, on his own terms, why he did not deserve to be blamed for the murders.  After losing the book, that should have been the end of it: game over.  Simpson could not accept that.

I do not believe it was a mere coincidence that Simpson and his crew busted into that Las Vegas hotel room on the very same day, September 13, 2007, that the Goldmans’ victory over his book was complete; the same day that the Goldmans’ version of his book (If I Did It: Confessions of the Killer) was being released in bookstores nationwide, and the Goldmans were on national television that day to talk about it.  In Simpson’s mind, they were stealing his stage, and he had to take it back.  Apparently, he had to do it on the very same day.

According to a newspaper report, Simpson (or someone acting on his behalf) allegedly contacted the FBI about three weeks before the Las Vegas break-in, and Simpson indicated that he wanted the break-in to be “televised.”  (This evidence, by the way, contradicts Simpson’s statement to the Las Vegas judge that he only formulated his plan after he got to Las Vegas that weekend.)  The FBI wanted nothing to do with Simpson’s “sting operation,” and it obviously was not televised.  That left only one way to capture the event: tape recording.  And one of the first things out of Simpson’s mouth when he led his posse into that hotel room was:  “M—-r F—–r, think you can steal my s—?”   Simpson was trying to reclaim his status as both hero and victim.  If you recall his Las Vegas mug shot, he actually had a little smile.  He seemed pleased.  I doubt Simpson really cared about recovering his long-lost memorabilia items, much less getting them back for his kids.

After his arrest in Las Vegas, Simpson could have taken a plea deal.  Instead, he forced the People of the State of Nevada and the Las Vegas authorities to undertake a tremendous burden, effort, and expense to prosecute him.  After more than a year of extensive law-enforcement investigation and information gathering, and after a lengthy jury trial, and after all the lawyers had their say at the criminal-sentencing hearing, and after the judge appeared to have already prepared a written decision regarding the sentencing, then after all of that, there was Simpson, at the eleventh hour and fifty-ninth minute, telling the judge in Las Vegas (even she was surprised that Simpson spoke) and the whole world that all he was trying to do was confront old “friends” and get back long-lost items for his kids.  He was still trying to be victim and hero.  I could feel the warmth of his voice, and I could feel the pull of sympathy toward him.  I do not think I was alone.  I still believed he was lying.

I do not think Simpson could help himself.  He had to fight back against Fred any way he could, and that was how he chose to do it.  At least Galanter was right about one thing: it certainly seemed stupid.

Many people, young and old, men and women, black and white, held Simpson in high regard.  He appeared to be everything that we admired in a person, at least on the surface.  At one time, his power was so great that he could literally get away with murder.  But no matter how much a person is respected and admired, if they repeatedly break the moral code, and they do so in such a flagrant and disrespectful manner, then sooner or later they will force the entire group to act against them.  Perhaps absolute power corrupts absolutely.  If that is true, then those with such power might not lose it until they have gone too far.  Then they lose it forever, and perhaps they are left cursing themselves for all they have lost, somehow still believing that they will get it back.  The hand of justice is not always apparent, but it is always at work, as long as we depend on each other for our survival.

Peter T. Haven is an attorney in Los Angeles. He is a graduate of Stanford University and UCLA School of Law.  He has a general civil litigation practice, with a current emphasis on helping victims, wherever they are and whatever they have suffered. His firm, Haven Law, can be contacted via his web site at www.havenlaw.com

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