Story Of The Year -- How Did Simpson Jury Make Decision So Fast?

It was the story of the year. At first we sought to justify our addiction to this tragedy. This was no trashy soap opera. Not just a handsome man and a gorgeous woman slashed to death on a darkened walkway. This was also a documentary, a primer on legal strategies. An inside look at our justice system. We made our excuses for a while. Then we realized we needed no justification.

The O.J. Simpson story justified its own importance.

It was indeed, for a huge number of Americans, the story of the year.

As 1995 draws to a close, we look back at that story which surpassed in its impact even this forecast by Superior Court Judge Lance Ito before opening statements: "Those who say the criminal justice system itself is on trial may be correct in that observation."

Here is the third of four excerpts from "In Pursuit Of Justice: The People vs. Orenthal James Simpson" by the Los Angeles Times Staff.

Today, how did the jury reach a decision so fast in a case that was complicated by morass of scientific and technical issues? Here the jurors tell why the prosecution failed to prove the charges against O.J. Simpson.

The most famous jury in America was an eclectic bunch: a truck driver, a postal clerk, a computer-repair technician and an environmental-health specialist. A 33-year-old single man who had expressed admiration for O.J. Simpson's football feats. A 72-year-old married woman who confessed, "I don't know nothing about no O.J. Simpson." And presiding as forewoman, a 51-year-old woman from South-Central Los Angeles who described her occupation as vendor.

Only two of the jurors held college degrees. Paid just five dollars a day, they were faced with the momentous task of deciding a case entangled with scientific and technological issues. But they listened, watched, took notes and even occasionally drifted off during arguments that filled 50,000 pages of transcript.

As they launched their deliberations about 9:15 a.m. on Monday, Oct. 2, no juror was certain how the others felt. For nine months they had sat in court together, eaten meals together, spent weekends cooped up in a hotel together, but they had never examined the evidence together.

Yet almost as soon as they began to talk over the case that had held them in sequestered isolation for 266 days - a California record - it was clear that few had bought into prosecutor Marcia Clark's "mountain of evidence."

They began pulling up images from the trial, tossing out doubts that had tugged at them for months. Brenda Moran, a 44-year-old from South-Central Los Angeles, recalled the day Simpson had struggled to pull on the crime-scene gloves. He had tugged the leather over his broad palm, but couldn't bring the glove to touch his wrist. "Too tight," he'd told them, grinning ruefully.

"In plain English," Moran said later, "the glove didn't fit."

Moran also wondered about the matching glove Detective Mark Fuhrman had reported discovering behind Simpson's guest house. If it was still damp from the victims' blood, she thought, wouldn't it have dripped on the walkway?

Lionel Cryer raised another concern. The words of Henry Lee, a noted forensic pathologist who testified for the defense, kept ringing in his ears: "Something's wrong." Cryer knew the LAPD lab was sloppy - even the prosecutors admitted it. Samples might have been mixed up, or contaminated. So why should he trust the DNA results? As defense lawyer Barry Scheck had told them, "garbage in, garbage out."

The Fuhrman tapes that had so roused the public rated "barely a blip" during deliberations, according to Cryer. The jurors did not need to dwell on the detective's vile words because they all agreed on a more critical point: Fuhrman was a liar. Therefore, his testimony was worthless. His racism was almost beside the point.

After less than an hour, the jurors decided to take a straw poll by secret ballot. The result: 10 to 2 in favor of acquittal on both murder charges.

Outside the gloomy Criminal Courts Building, legal experts were predicting lengthy deliberations. Two weeks at least, they said. The jurors had taken so many notes - some had filled up six notebooks in dense script. Surely they would want to review those, not to mention the 857 exhibits.

But the pundits had glaringly miscalculated the jurors' response to the evidence. Prosecutor Christopher Darden's forceful closing argument about domestic violence, in which he claimed Simpson had a slow-burning fuse that exploded one night in murderous rage, had won praise as a persuasive bit of rhetoric.

But the image made no sense to several jurors. They said prosecutors had presented just one example of Simpson beating Nicole, and that was back in 1989. Yes, they had played a 911 tape of Nicole calling for help as Simpson railed in the background just eight months before her death. And Denise Brown had testified about O.J.'s jealous temper.

Yet, Nicole herself had initiated several reconciliations with Simpson. Other witnesses had testified about his loving nature. In any case, jurors did not understand how a rocky marriage translated into a motive for murder.

"To be honest with you," Cryer said, "I never bought into it. I didn't see it." Moran agreed, dismissing Denise Brown's sobbing testimony and the photo of Nicole's battered face as a waste of time.

"This was a murder trial," she said. "If you want to get tried for domestic abuse, go in another courtroom and get tried for that."

So the jurors didn't believe the motive offered by the prosecution. And they didn't trust the blood evidence, which for millions across the nation was the most decisive proof of Simpson's guilt. Less than two hours into their deliberation, the jury was very close to declaring O.J. Simpson a free man.

But two jurors wavered. Responding to their concerns, the forewoman asked Judge Lance Ito to have one bit of testimony read back - from limousine driver Allan Park. After a courthouse lunch, they trooped into the courtroom to listen, careful to keep the same poker faces that had made their thoughts so unreadable throughout the trial.

Marcia Clark had touted Park as the key to her case. Park had testified that he arrived at Simpson's house about 10:25 p.m. and buzzed the gate repeatedly without receiving an answer. Half an hour later, he saw a shadowy figure dart into Simpson's house. In a moment, Simpson answered the intercom and apologized for oversleeping.

Clark had argued that Simpson had been out of his house at the time of the murders - and he had done something he did not want Park to find out about, since he lied and said he had been home, drowsing.

The jurors listened again to part of Park's testimony. But after about 70 minutes, they stopped the court clerk. They had heard enough.

Back in the deliberation room, they seized on a discrepancy: Park had been wrong about the number of cars parked in the driveway of Simpson's estate. He could not be trusted. The jurors decided to vote once more.

This time, it was unanimous: Simpson must be acquitted.

Cryer was startled that his fellow jurors had "come together on the same mind-set so quickly." But he insisted that they had not slighted the prosecution's case.

As Gina Rosborough, a 29-year-old postal clerk, said on Oprah Winfrey's TV show, "We went through the process to clear everybody's conscience." They had deliberated thoroughly, she said, telling each other they would "be able to wake up in the morning and look at yourself in the mirror and be proud of what you did."

The swift verdict caught the attorneys by surprise, so Judge Ito postponed the reading until Tuesday morning, to give everyone a chance to assemble. Go back to the hotel for one more night, he told the jurors. Pack up. Have fun.

They celebrated their imminent release in the hotel's penthouse suite, with its soaring views of downtown Los Angeles through floor-to-ceiling windows. They belted out "Let the Good Times Roll," and tossed back champagne and salmon canapes. They autographed commemorative menus and chowed down on steak.

"It was like a family reunion," said the pianist who led them in rousing song.

The next day at 10 a.m., they took their seats in the jury box for the last time. Jubilant at having seen through the case and delivering what he considered fair verdicts, Cryer thrust his left fist into the air in salute as he left court for the last time.

"It was like a `Right on to you, Mr. Simpson,' " he explained later. "Get on with your life."

The jurors certainly were eager to get on with their lives. Before they left, Judge Ito had warned them to "expect the worst" from the media, despite their publicly announced - wish to be left alone.

Indeed, as soon as they left the courthouse, they were deluged with gifts, flowers and offers from tabloids willing to pay $30,000 or more for an interview. They were also battered by criticism. Surprised and hurt by the outcry, a few jurors spoke out to defend their verdicts.

"I know O.J. Simpson didn't do it," Moran said.

"The law wouldn't allow a guilty verdict," explained the daughter of juror Anise Aschenbach.

Cryer acknowledged that their long sequestration could have spurred the panel to speed up deliberations.

"You've got to remember, (it's been) nine months, and people are just agonizing about when is it going to be over. We want to get out of here," he said. Still, he said they had not rushed to judgment.

Said Moran: "I think we did the right thing. Matter of fact, I know we did."

Tomorrow: The trials' legacy.