Producer (25 page)

I stared at Dean and then at the casket. “Dean,” I said, “we got the exact same casket for my father.” That was kind of eerie.
Contrary to my father’s modest funeral service, however, Frank Reynolds’s funeral was a huge affair.

Back to the present, as my face was swollen almost beyond recognition. I mumbled an answer to Dean, unable to speak clearly,
and I ordered clear soup for lunch because I couldn’t eat. A reporter, I don’t recall who, called me Face that day, and the
name stuck. We remained in the newsroom until someone announced that it was all over and we could go home. Especially Face.
They wanted me out of there and I don’t blame them.

With my new job, however, all that was over. I figured it would be easier than what I had just come from, and it was, even
when I woke up in the morning with no idea who or what would be on the show that evening. Now, with the OJ debacle, it was
a lot easier because that same story went on and on. But it had its own difficulty level as well. It’s like learning to play
golf. When you first swing a club and you manage to hit the ball, you think,
Hey, this isn’t so hard.
But the more
you learn about golf—stand just so, concentrate, hold the club a certain way, and all the rest of it—the more complicated
it becomes. The same was true with my new job. But with OJ, at least I had a clear direction.

Each morning when I got up during the trial, I already knew where I was headed and with whom we needed to speak. I based it
on what happened yesterday during the trial, and what was scheduled for today. I once heard Larry say, “I do infotainment,”
and I was incredibly turned off. But during the trial, I understood what he meant. The whole idea is that people have to
want
to watch us. In my opinion, the extraordinary length of this trial marked the beginning of reality television, which offers
the audience real information that is entertaining. The OJ trial fit that description to a tee since each evening, reality
met entertainment on our show. For the first time, the public at large was watching a criminal trial from start to finish
during the daytime. Then, at night on
Larry King Live
, we would discuss the threefold topics that were triggered: our judicial system, domestic abuse, and racial prejudice.

We booked some terrific guests for the show who continually reported on the ongoing trial, including slow-talking cowboy defense
lawyer Gerry Spence, a judge who looked particularly unassuming, and a couple of pundits. Each day, my staff would contact
the trial principals to try to get interviews, but booking them was unreliable because so many venues were vying for them.
We got Kato Kaelin (whom I took to a restaurant in Washington one night and everyone was all over him), OJ’s maid Rosa Lopez,
who made a big splash during the trial, and once in a while we got one of Simpson’s primary defense attorneys. But we relied
on our loyal panel who appeared most nights to cover what had occurred that day and to discuss what it all meant and where
it appeared to be heading. People responded to our core
group, and I would duplicate that format when future stories became extended for weeks or months on end.

We were at the bureau in Washington when Larry and I heard that F. Lee Bailey (of Patty Hearst kidnapping fame) was going
to be part of the defense team that had been nicknamed the “dream team.” It consisted of Johnnie Cochran, Robert Shapiro,
and now, F. Lee Bailey was joining the ranks.

“Larry,” I said, “you know Lee. He’s a good old friend of yours. Why don’t you give him a call and see if he’ll come on the
show tonight?”

“I don’t have his phone number,” Larry said.

I called Miami information to discover that Lee Bailey’s phone number was unlisted. When I told Larry I couldn’t get his number,
he picked up the phone himself and called information in Miami.

“Can I help you?” said the operator.

“Hi, there,” said Larry in his raspy New York accent. “Larry King here. What’s your name?”

“Laurie,” she said. She knew it was really Larry because no one else has a voice that remotely sounds like his.

“Well, Laurie,” Larry went on, “here’s how you can help me. F. Lee Bailey is a good friend of mine and I need to talk to him.
But his phone number is unlisted. Laurie, can you please give me his number?”

She did it. In the next moment, Larry was talking to F. Lee Bailey. “Hey,” Larry said, “how are you going to do this? OJ doesn’t
have a prayer.”

“Doesn’t have a prayer?” repeated Bailey. “He was set up. This is a racial situation. It’s gonna be a piece of cake. He’ll
be fine.”

F. Lee Bailey called in to our show that night. By now, we had become so involved with this trial, we were considered OJ
Central, and Larry and I were traveling between LA and Washington regularly. For example, during a midmorning break in court
a few days later, Larry and I were ushered toward the back of the courtroom, down the hall, and into Judge Ito’s chambers.
Larry and the judge chatted, Ito seemed to be really enjoying himself, and I could hardly believe I was sitting opposite the
most controversial judge in the country. He became so well known, by the way, that this many years later, there is no name
plaque outside his office because people keep stealing it, so he stopped replacing it.

The recess had gone long over the proposed fifteen minutes—almost forty minutes—when Larry said, “Don’t you have to get back
to work?”

Judge Ito stood reluctantly, it seemed, and said his good-byes. Larry stood, too, but to my dismay, he followed the judge
through the rear door into the well of the courtroom. He was going the wrong way. I tried to guide him in the opposite direction,
but when OJ spotted him, he yelled out, “Larry!” He stood to shake Larry’s hand until the bailiffs quickly returned OJ to
his seat. “Thanks for being so fair,” OJ called out. I cringed. All we needed was for the courtroom to think we were being
partial. I just had to get Larry out of there.

Before I could guide him away, however, Robert Shapiro stood and gave Larry a bear hug. Next, Larry shook hands with F. Lee
Bailey. I groaned when Suzanne Childs, part of the prosecution team, rushed to Larry’s side and led him over to the prosecution
table. “I watch you all the time,” Marcia Clark said.

I reached for a door, any door, to get Larry the hell out of there and into another room when a bailiff said to me, “That’s
the door to the lockup. Most people try to stay out of there.”

Jeffrey Toobin, reporter, senior analyst for CNN, and writer
for
The New Yorker
, wrote a definitive book in 1996 called
The Run of His Life: The People v. O. J. Simpson.
Toobin says:

By far the most important experience for me came on Monday night, July 18, when I traveled to Washington to be the first guest
on that night’s
Larry King Live.
King would come to occupy an unusual niche in the Simpson case. By the time of the trial, King had decided to devote the
bulk of his program to the case, and he even moved his base of operations to Los Angeles for long periods. I eventually made
several dozen appearances on the show, and King’s CNN studio on Sunset Boulevard came to resemble a sort of Hyde Park Corner
for the Simpson case. On any given day that I appeared, I was likely to find a defense lawyer, an expert witness, or some
other witness or peripheral figure lingering in the makeup room. For me, a reporter who was actually covering the case, the
visits amounted to priceless opportunities to chat with these people in a quiet and intimate setting. So many people involved
with the case developed relationships with King that he became a quasi-participant himself.

I finally got Larry away and I could exhale. When I look back now, I believe that OJ did for domestic abuse what Rock Hudson
did for AIDS by putting it on the map with a face and a real-life situation. And we at the
Larry King Live
show helped that along. How horrific was it that a beautiful and educated woman like Nicole Brown was so frightened of her
ex-husband that she had pictures of her beaten, swollen face locked away in a safety deposit box, just in case? And still
she got murdered.

Larry and I had just arrived at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel on
October 2. Larry was working out and I was at the bar, meeting with a source who was close to Nicole, when I glanced up at
the TV screen. The OJ jury had reached a verdict.
What? How could that be?
I thought. They had only deliberated for four hours after the lengthiest trial anyone could remember, and they were ready
to read the verdict in court the next morning. What did it mean?

I left the bar and rushed into the gym area to tell Larry they had reached a verdict, which they would read in the morning.
He was as shocked as I was. That evening, I went to dinner with Jo-Ellen Demetrius, a jury selection consultant who had helped
the defense team choose jurors who might be sympathetic to OJ. She had been rooting for an acquittal and she was really down
in the dumps. “This is not good for us,” she said. “They’re probably going to bring in a guilty verdict because it came so
fast. I feel sick to my stomach.”

I awakened in anxious anticipation the next morning, believing that this was OJ’s last day of freedom. At about 9 a.m., I
called Larry and said, “I need to come to your room and watch the verdict with you.” I gave him no choice, I just hung up
the phone and ran over to his room. But I was so nervous while we watched, I suddenly blurted out, “Larry, can we hold hands?”

Larry stared at me. “Huh, why?” he said.

“I don’t know why,” I answered, “I just need to hold your hand.”

I grabbed his hand, squeezed hard, and held my breath.

“Not guilty,” the foreman said.

I dropped Larry’s hand and said nothing. All I could think was:
Where is the karma? Is he getting away with double murder?

I was in utter disbelief when several of my colleagues and I
attended a celebratory party that was given by OJ’s group at a bar that night. We went to observe and there was much patting
on backs and celebratory toasts. When we went on the air the next night, Larry interviewed Johnnie Cochran to discuss his
victory. But no one was more stunned than I when the show was nearly over and a screener told me that OJ, himself, was calling
in. He wanted to talk to Larry.

We have an 800 number for the general public to call in with questions or comments, and they may or may not get on the air.
But we also have an “invited caller” number system where we ask an invited guest to join us on the phone. They are given a
password along with a private number so we can separate a real caller from an impostor.

“Are you sure it’s really him?” I asked.

“He called on the right number and gave us the password.”

It was OJ. I was about to put him on when a producer from Atlanta called me to say hurriedly, “Wendy, Larry has to stop exactly
at ten. We have a great taped show all about OJ Simpson.”

“Well,” I answered, “I have him live on the phone.” OJ live on the phone or a taped show about him? There was no decision
to make as we put OJ on. Here is an excerpt from that call:

KING:
We’re back on
Larry King Live
… For the benefit of our radio listeners, we will be extending this program… because with us on the phone now is OJ Simpson.
How are you?

VOICE OF SIMPSON:
I am doing fine. I want to thank you a lot, because so many of my friends told me that you have been fair in hosting your
show and bringing the points of view from both sides… most of all, I want to thank that man, Mr.
Johnnie Cochran, for believing from the beginning, listening, and putting his heart and soul on the line to send me home and
spend time with my kids.

… I’ve been watching your show, and I don’t really have a lot to say now. Pretty soon I will have enough to say to everybody
and hopefully answer everyone’s questions, but one of your callers… asked the question about a “shadowy figure… running down
the driveway and across the lawn and into the front door.” That’s one of the problems I am having today, with people who have
followed this trial, they have not listened to the evidence… Throughout this case, it’s been this misrepresentation time and
time again. People come home from work and they hear the pundits elaborating on these misrepresentations. Listen to what the
witness says, listen to what their testimony is, and not what Marcia Clark told you. And not what Darden told you… Fortunately
for me, the jury listened to what the witnesses said, and not Marcia Clark’s or Darden’s or anyone else’s rendition of what
they said.

KING:
OJ, how would you describe yourself, as relieved, angry, what?

VOICE OF SIMPSON:
A little bit of everything. I think my basic anger, and this is the last thing I am going to say before I leave, my basic
anger is these misconceptions… People I’ve heard that followed the case, heard experts say this was the testimony today… and
that wasn’t the testimony today. There were so many times I went back to my cell and I watched TV, I go to my attorney room,
I talk to my attorneys and some witnesses, and we say, “Were these experts looking at the same… were they in the same courtroom
that we were in today? Did they hear the testimony today?” Because what they were reporting on the news…
on these various shows, was not what the witnesses were saying. And, once again, that lady who called in, look at the testimony.
Marcia Clark told you that…

KING:
A couple of quick things, and I will let you go.

VOICE OF SIMPSON:
No, I’ve got to go.

KING:
All right, can you just tell—

VOICE OF SIMPSON:
I’m sorry, I’ve really got to go.

KING:
What was it like with the kids today?

VOICE OF SIMPSON:
Thank you.

KING:
What was it like with the kids?

VOICE OF SIMPSON:
It’s been—it’s been great. It’s been great. Thank you. Soon—and I appreciate what—how fair you have been.