White Bronco
- Wade
Unless something unexpected and horiffic happens in the next fifty years, my generation has its "Where were you when you heard..." moment locked up. (An aside: hearing the current volume of saber-rattling in the Middle East and Korean peninsula, I'm not sure I'd rule out another unexpected and horiffic event.) 9/11 is the apex of all of the moments when an event hit us hard enough to burn our surroundings into our memories.
It's not the only one, though. Eleven years ago tonight, O.J. Simpson got a ride down Interstate 405 in California, courtesy of A.C. Cowlings. Earlier that day O.J. had skipped out on turning himself into the LAPD, and longtime Simpson friend Robert Kardashian read a letter from O.J. that smelled very much like a suicide note. Later that evening the police spotted O.J.'s white Ford Bronco, and the slowest high-speed pursuit in history was underway.
We all know what happened next, and we all have opinions on whether justice was served. But none of that's very much fun for a Friday. Funner: where were you when the O.J. chase was happening?
Me? Little Caesar's Pizza in beautiful Austin, Minnesota. Jason was working that night and, since I didn't have a life, I spent much of my time at Caesar's waiting for Jason's shift to end so we could pursue the finer things in life: namely, Snapple and aimlessly cruising the Austin streets. There was no TV, but a news feed broke into the local Top 40 radio station and gave us the play-by-play. By the time the chase was over, there were nearly a dozen people sitting in Caesar's, listening to hear how this was going to end up. Ghoulishly, most people went home disappointed.
So... Where were you?
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