Last week the book closed on the O.J. Simpson story when the pro football player turned double murder suspect died of prostate cancer.

Minutes after news unexpectedly broke about Simpson’s passing, social media became a flurry of jokes and ridicule blasting the disgraced one-time sports hero. To say that many people felt little sympathy for him would be an understatement. His legacy will not be for winning the Heisman trophy but rather for winning a trial that many agree he should not have.

For more than 30 years the tragic story that began on June 12, 1994 with the deaths of Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman has dogged the American justice system and ramped up awareness about domestic violence. As we all know, Simpson won his criminal trial but lost the civil trial that followed. It was a decision that divided people and left the defendant ostensibly and seemingly untouchable, for all the wrong reasons.

I was a young reporter at The Robesonian, fresh out of college and captivated by the story that was unfolding. The pervious summer I was witness to the chaos of the James Jordan murder trial that took place down the street from the newspaper’s former headquarters. One year later, I was waiting each morning by the Associated Press fax for the next pieces of information to arrive about the case. I watched on TV that summer as the infamous Ford Bronco made its way down the California freeway, and in January 1995 when the trial began, I tuned in almost daily. In fact, I became a cable subscriber just to watch. In today’s culture, it would likely be a Netflix special.

The murder trial lasted until October 1995 and by all accounts was a media circus. It was also a sham with more than enough physical and circumstantial evidence pointing to Simpson as the killer. I still remember radio talk show host Howard Stern saying, “the only thing they don’t have is video of him doing it.” I still think that was a fair statement. Thirty years later and no other worthy suspect has been named. And we all have our opinions about how well the glove fit.

Adding insult to injury, in 2007 Simpson’s hypothetical account of what might have happened, called “If I Did It: Confessions of the Killer,” was published. The Goldman family who had been awarded $33.5 million during the civil trial, but who had been unable to collect, discovered that the book had been written and through legal proceedings, they were able to get 10 percent of the royalties. Coincidentally, after the trial, Simpson moved to Florida to avoid his assets from being siphoned off to the Goldmans. Florida has broad legislation protecting debtors.

Regardless of his guilt or innocence, few can argue that publishing a book about the murders was anything but tasteful or a good move for someone accused of killing his wife and her friend. Simpson’s nose-thumbing arrogance didn’t stop there. The same year the book was

released, he was arrested in Las Vegas on charges of kidnapping and robbery regarding sports memorabilia that he claimed was stolen from him. He did jail time on that charge and was paroled in 2017. He laid low and kept quiet upon release, but like many others, I have to wonder if being acquitted in the murder trial empowered him to think he was untouchable.

The Ford Bronco driven by Al Cowlings became synonymous with O.J. Simpson. Its home is now at Alcatraz East, a massive museum of crime located in Sevierville, Tennessee. It is quite an eerie display, parked next to Ted Bundy’s Volkswagen Beetle and the bullet hole-riddled 1934 Ford V8 bank robber John Dillinger used to escape the FBI. In 2018, I happened upon the museum and the Bronco, and I made a cheeky selfie with it which is now on my Facebook page.

Sadly, the getaway car got more attention than Ronald Goldman and Nicole Brown Simpson, whose tragic legacy might have done more in 30 years to bring a spotlight to domestic violence in America than anything else. Her violent slaying is even more dreadful now that we know the gravity of the abuse she endured at O.J.’s hands before she was murdered. Evidence shows that even a year after their 1993 divorce she was still stalked by the megalomaniacal Simpson. According to an article in People magazine, a letter that surfaced after her death revealed that Simpson had scorned her for post-pregnancy weight gain. In another incident in 1989, he reportedly brutally beat her, and she told doctors she had fallen off a bike. Nicole showed the world that often victims of abuse hide their torment, and she also showed that even rich, privileged women can be victims too.

Upon his death, it is reported that O.J. Simpson was worth about $3 million. He received $42,000 in Social Security and more than $300,000 per year from an NFL pension fund. The Goldmans and Nicole’s family only got a small portion of the judgement awarded in the civil case.

The senseless deaths of Nicole Simpson and Ronald Goldman and the loss to their families will never get the justice deserved, and no amount of money will fill the void left by their passing. Perhaps an even bigger travesty is a flawed judicial system that let O.J. Simpson get away with murder, as well as countless other domestic violence offenders in this country.

I was ambivalent about the news of O.J.’s passing, maybe a little relieved. I was never a fan of the football player and I thought he was a mediocre actor at best, but I am saddened that his and Nicole’s children will live the rest of their lives with a bloodstain on their family name. I sifted through the countless social media memes about his passing, observing that few cared for him in the end; some are downright happy he is gone. It’s an objective matter of history now.

The evidence of his guilt was compelling, even if the jury was not convinced beyond a reasonable doubt. When O.J. Simpson died last week, the definitive answer about “who did it” went to the grave with him, and we will truly never know exactly what happened that fateful June night in 1994. We can all make up our minds, but for this journalist, the tragic story that began 30 years ago ended unceremoniously last week.