Without a Doubt - [2]

As we began interviewing potential jurors, their reactions diverged predictably along racial lines. I soon decided that the routine “can you be fair” questions wouldn’t cut it. No one was going to volunteer the fact that they believed cops would plant evidence or that, if selected to serve on the jury, they would use this trial to even the score for the Rodney King verdict. I had to put the issue squarely on the table. I reminded the jurors that our office had prosecuted the officers involved in the Rodney King beating, that we believed they should have been found guilty. And then I said that acquitting a guilty man would not fix the injustice of that decision.

Just one hour later, however, when the jury was excused for lunch, one of the African American jurors was overheard saying, “It’s payback time.” She denied it when confronted with the remark in chambers, and Judge Lance Ito believed her. So she remained on the jury.

I did-and do-believe that there was an element of payback in the acquittal. One of the jurors even raised his fist in the Black Power salute as he left the jury box after delivering the verdict. But I no longer believe that it was the driving motivation among all of the black jurors. Some of them started out reasonably impartial. In the beginning, we stood a chance of persuading them. But over the course of nine sequestered months, the constant litany of racially incendiary remarks jogged memories, rekindled latent mistrust, and corroded the framework of law and logic we had tried to establish. Jibes and digs like Mr. Cochran’s gratuitous comment to Detective Tom Lang about his “house in Simi Valley” conjured up images of the Simi Valley police officers who’d beaten Rodney King. By the time the infamous Mark Fuhrman tapes were played and the jury heard Fuhrman’s voice spewing racial slurs and despicable stories of police brutality, even those who had started out with an open mind likely found it impossible to believe in Simpson’s guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.

I was therefore incredulous when, years after the verdict, people said the prosecution had been “overconfident.” In a case that had drawn many ridiculous comments, this was a standout in absurdity. We’d had a strong case, with more evidence of guilt than I usually saw in twenty cases put together. I had been confident we had the right guy. But overconfident that we’d win? Absolutely not.

The “not guilty” verdict issued on October 2, 1995, was gut-wrenchingly painful. But, to us, it wasn’t unexpected.

Even so, especially in the immediate aftermath of the trial, many observers either could not or would not believe that the verdict had been skewed by race. Now, although it’s taken nearly twenty years, there seems to be a greater willingness to accept that fraught race relations can-and do-subvert justice. That’s progress. But we still have much to achieve.

In the years since the verdict, I have gained a deeper understanding of why the jury acquitted Simpson and why mistrust of law enforcement is pervasive in the black community. Now, more than ever before, we can see the reasons for ourselves in smartphone videos, dash cam clips, and surveillance tapes: Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, Walter Scott, Eric Garner, Laquan McDonald… The list goes on and on.

Even in 1995 it wasn’t news to me that black men were being wrongfully harmed and killed by police officers. But seeing the hideous, vividly detailed recent footage of these shootings has made me feel the injustice viscerally and has driven home why the African American jurors viewed the Simpson case so differently than we did. It is my sincere hope that when people discuss the Simpson verdict in future, they will bear those graphic images in mind. I know I will.

The importance of these recordings is undeniable. Over the years I have also come to accept the value of filming proceedings in the courtroom. Although the extreme media frenzy over the Simpson trial was an anomaly, cameras are here to stay. Fred Goldman, Ron Goldman’s father, finally persuaded me that we should not try to keep them out. As he said, if there had not been television cameras in our courtroom during the Simpson trial, few would have known what a travesty the verdict was. If managed properly, I now believe the benefits of media presence and increased transparency can outweigh the costs.

That said, cameras should not fill the courtroom corridors, as they did during the Simpson trial, and lawyers should not be allowed to resume their arguments on the courthouse steps. Just as importantly, cameras should be turned off during hearings that include statements or evidence the jury is not meant to see. A defendant’s prior rape conviction or a police officer’s history of excessive use of force, for example, can tip the scales in favor of one side or the other, and a judge may ultimately decide this evidence should not be allowed. If the jurors wind up seeing it on television, such precautions become futile. Print reporters and bloggers can still write about the disallowed evidence, of course, but articles have to be sought out. They’re not blasted over screens into bars, bus stations, and living rooms. Even the most conscientious, law-abiding jurors may find it impossible to avoid televised press coverage.