O.J. Simpson, the Juice, died on April 10, at age 76. One news columnist opened his story with these words, “It marked the end of a long and turbulent life marked by poverty. survival, riches, violence, and stardom.”
The centerpiece of the television reporting was a string of limousine-type vans…the second one in the line, white; the others black. O.J. was in white van, being brought to Los Angeles, to “the law,” accused of killing his second wife. In the decades before, he was known as the Juice…a Heisman Trophy winner, Hall of Fame running back for USC and the Buffalo Bills. He was the father of five children.
Perhaps the most surprising and jarring dimension of his life was his refusal to become involved in the Civil Rights Struggle. Those who critiqued him have pretty much agreed that his desire for money, status, and white acceptance was a moral failure that “overrode the call for first class citizenship for Black Americans.”
A well-researched and documented article on his death closed with this scathing word: “O.J. Simpson could have been on a pedestal as a man who stood for something bigger than himself. In the end he died much as he had lived: arrogant, self-obsessed, without regard for those around him.” (Daryl A. Carter, Commercial Appeal. April 21, 2024)
The lead story in the Viewpoint section of the newspaper that carried this Simpson death story was headlined A TRUE PIONEER. It was a story celebrating April 15, Jackie Robinson Day. After sharing a number of fantastic career statistics, the writer noted that while the stats were rattled off “in rushed asides, like footnotes” they were critical because “they explain why Jackie was the -perfect choice to integrate Major League Baseball and, pioneering, barrier-breaking achievements aside, how he became one of the greatest baseball players to ever lace up a pair of cleats.” (Andrea Williams)
The story concluded with these words: “Jackie became a player by accident, by nature of racism and segregation and all the ills he would spend his whole life fighting against, even after he hung up his cleats. But none of those whys matter anymore. All that matters is that he did, and that baseball—and our world—are better for it.”
I simply invite you to read again the way the life story of the Pioneer and the Juice concludes. I urge you to ponder with me….how will my life story conclude?
