Netflix’s documentary American Manhunt: OJ Simpson hits close to home for me. It takes me back to a time before the internet, when TV and newspapers shaped everything people knew. Back then, my friend was murdered, and like O.J.’s case, the truth never came out. There were rumors, theories, and whispers, but no one was ever charged. The case just… closed. No answers, no justice. Years later, it still haunts me how easily the system can fail—whether in a global spectacle like O.J.’s trial or in quiet, personal tragedies like my friend’s. Both stories force us to ask: Why do some crimes vanish into the noise of bias, money, or apathy? Let’s unpack OJ Simpson’s trial—not just as true-crime drama, but as proof of how justice can slip through the cracks, leaving families and friends forever searching for closure.
Orenthal James “O.J.” Simpson, nicknamed The Juice, rose to fame as a star NFL running back in the 1970s. He became the first player to rush over 2,000 yards in a single season (1973) and was inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame. After retiring from football, Simpson transitioned to acting and broadcasting, appearing in films like The Naked Gun and commercials for Hertz. By the 1990s, he was a beloved American celebrity—until June 12, 1994, when his ex-wife Nicole Brown Simpson and her friend Ronald Goldman were brutally murdered, thrusting Simpson into the center of a legal and cultural firestorm.
On the night of June 12, 1994, Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman were stabbed to death outside Nicole’s Brentwood townhouse. The timeline of events remains critical:
By noon on June 13, O.J. is questioned but not arrested. Four days later, after a low-speed Bronco chase televised nationally, Simpson surrenders to police.
Nicole Brown Simpson: O.J.’s ex-wife and victim. Their relationship was marred by domestic violence, including a 1989 no-contest plea from O.J.
Ronald Goldman: A waiter and friend of Nicole, murdered alongside her.
Johnnie Cochran: Simpson’s charismatic lead defense attorney, known for the phrase, “If it doesn’t fit, you must acquit.”
Marcia Clark & Christopher Darden: Prosecutors criticized for their unfocused strategy and mishandling of evidence.
Mark Fuhrman: LAPD detective who found the bloody glove at O.J.’s estate. Later exposed for racism, undermining his credibility.
Kato Kaelin: O.J.’s houseguest, whose testimony about the “thumps” became pivotal.
Judge Lance Ito: Presided over the trial, which lasted 11 months.
Robert Kardashian: Simpson’s friend and defense attorney, later famous for his reality-TV family.
Netflix’s American Manhunt: The OJ Simpson Trial revisits the 1994 murders of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman with chilling detail, featuring firsthand accounts from detectives, lawyers, and journalists. Yet, even with its deep dive, the central question lingers: Did OJ Simpson kill Nicole and Ron? The documentary doesn’t surprise—it reaffirms what we already knew: the trial was never just about guilt. It was about race, fame, and a justice system buckling under the weight of both.
The American legal system’s duality in Simpson’s case remains staggering. In 1995, a criminal jury acquitted him of murder, citing “reasonable doubt” fueled by Mark Fuhrman’s racism and the infamous glove that “didn’t fit.” But in 1997, a civil jury found Simpson liable for the wrongful deaths of Nicole and Ron, ordering him to pay $33.5 million to their families.
Two courts, two verdicts—but as Fred Goldman (Ron’s father) bitterly noted: “O.J. walks free, but the world knows the truth.”
The documentary revisits Mark Fuhrman, the detective who found the bloody glove at Simpson’s estate. Decades later, Fuhrman remains defiant. When asked about his racist remarks caught on tape (using the N-word 41 times), he shrugs: “I’m not perfect, but I didn’t plant that glove.” His poker face and unflinching demeanor mirror the trial’s central tragedy: a broken system where flawed actors became symbols of larger injustices.
On April 10, 2024, O.J. Simpson died of prostate cancer at 76. His last public words, shared two months prior on X (formerly Twitter), were eerily detached: “Hey, let me take a moment to say thank you to all the people who reached out to me.” No apology. No confession. Just the same performative charm that once made America love him.
The O.J. Simpson case isn’t a true-crime story—it’s a mirror. It reflects our obsession with celebrity, our distrust of institutions, and our inability to reconcile race and justice. As American Manhunt reminds us, the evidence screams Simpson’s guilt, but the trial screamed louder about America’s fractures.
Nicole and Ron deserved better. So did we.
In the end, the only thing that ever fit OJ Simpson was the role of a man forever running—from the truth, from himself, from a past that finally caught up.