Denise Brown and the Truth About Nicole…

The subject of Faye Resnick arises during my conversation with Denise. Nicole, according to her sister, was incapable of seeing the liars and the users who were around her, especially at the end of her life.

Denise insists she has not read Resnick’s memoir, but is there anyone in America who is unfamiliar with the sound bites?

According to Denise, Faye Resnick was a minor and unpredictable figure in her sister’s life. “I met her for the first time at Nicole’s funeral. She evidently knows me very well. I don’t know her!

“She came to our beach club one time to drop her daughter off for Justin’s birthday party. She never said she was working on a book. We had no idea.”

On the flyleaf, there is a notice: “A portion of the proceeds from this book will go into a trust fund for the children of Nicole Brown Simpson.” According to Denise, “Faye sent one check, once. And now she wants the check back. She said her publisher made a mistake and made it out to the Nicole Brown Simpson Charitable Foundation.

“You know how we got that check? I don’t know what newspaper it was, but someone called us and said, ‘Have you seen one check from Faye Resnick?’ I said ‘No, we haven’t seen a penny yet. But we read about it! The book was published on October 17, Sydney’s birthday!’ Well, that was in the paper, and the next day we had a check for $10.000.

Denise Brown

“There are so many of Nicole’s friends who feel they have to leave the country or kill themselves because of Nicole. They feel like they can’t just get on with their lives because of Nicole, and yet the family is pulling through.

“I mean, if somebody is going to be an emotional wreck, I would think it would be my mother. She just lost a daughter! I would think that if anybody was going to be on Valiums or medication it would be my mother…

“Did you see the movie The O.J. Simpson Story? Thank God, I got a call about it. It portrayed Nicole as the stupidest, ditziest person that I have ever seen. It was not Nicole. I thought, If you had any class at all, you would have made her like the person she is.”

Marie Brenner

Beyond the Courtroom for Vogue Magazine (May 1995)

“Can You Believe This?” A Joke of a Trial…

‘Her Sister’s Voice’ Denise Brown Remembers Nicole…

‘Resting in Peace?’

Three days after her death, after the coroner, the police and the media all had their way with Nicole’s mangled body, it was time for the family to bury its dead.

 In a bucolic field minutes from the tranquil Pacific Ocean, high atop a pastoral hill, sat Nicole’s final resting place, a pristine cemetery in prestigious Laguna Hills, only an hour’s drive but a million miles away from the madness of Los Angeles.

 And there I was, the only reporter in the world to successfully con his way behind the guarded gates to catch a glimpse of this bizarre and uncomfortable event.

I had followed the procession of stretch limousines on the long trip from Nicole’s church in Brentwood…

St Martin of Tours Catholic Church in Brentwood, California

 As we approached the burial ground, I kept thinking of the old film footage of President John F. Kennedy’s motorcade when the assassination occurred.

There was an eerie mixture of excitement, sadness and confusion in the hot and humid summer air.

You felt as if you were in the midst of an historic moment, something that you would never forget and that your children’s children would one day talk about.

There were babies hoisted on shoulders. Cameras and reporters were everywhere.

And there were more police and Sheriff’s deputies than I had ever seen at any one single event in my entire life.

Even for a National Enquirer reporter, it was mesmerizing.

 Armed with a dark suit, a sober expression and little hope of actually penetrating the makeshift fortress that had been engineered around the grounds, I made my way toward the big iron gates that barred entrance to the cemetery.

Ascension Cemetery in Lake Forest, California

 Sheriff’s deputies and local police had formed a barricade to the throng of reporters and bystanders.

I remembered that I had craftily obtained a Mass card from the church service in Brentwood earlier that day, and I thought it might just be my ticket in.

 I reverently presented the card, with the traditional sentiment, “Nicole Brown Simpson: In Memoriam”, written on the front, and I innocently asked if I was late.

 To my amazement, it worked. Without hesitation, the officers stood aside and allowed me to pass.

Excited and anxious, I immediately began the long walk down the circular drive that weaved its way through the cemetery.

For miles around, every inch of the perimeter of the park was lined with either police, reporters or photographers with cameras clicking and flashing chaotically at anything that moved, including me.

it was pandemonium like I can only compare to the excitement associated with walking up the red carpet at a Hollywood premiere.

 As I neared the plot, almost at the center of the cemetery, I heard the priest speak his last words, “Rest in peace”.

He had spoken only a few short and sterile words before, but then, what was there to say?

 The small gathering of no more than 30 or so was seated in folding chairs underneath a small canopy with the casket out in front.

Immediately after the priest’s final words, the assembly disbanded into separate and distinct groups.

 As I made my way to the casket, I heard the unmistakable sounds of James Taylor coming from an old cassette recorder that was placed at the base of the casket.

The serene melodies were anything but appropriate for this tense and uncomfortable setting, and the artificially instilled calm only increased the tension in the air.

Everything was wrong about it.

 To my astonishment, adorning Nicole’s casket were countless photographs of the victim in seductive poses and inappropriately provocative outfits with a collection of different men.

Occasionally, a picture of the family popped up in between but I could see no pictures of Nicole and O.J. together.

A stirring memorial written by Nicole and O.J.’s children and placed at the front of the casket reminded all of who the real victims were in this twisted Hollywood tale.

 All the players were there.

The potpourri of personalities the world would soon come to know better than their own families were paying last respects to Nicole: Nicole’s mother and father Juditha and Lou Brown, and her sisters, Dominique, Tanya and, lastly, Denise, the ultimately vocal sister who sported an eerie resemblance to Nicole.

Thursday June 16 1994

 At the funeral, their silence was all too pregnant and revealing.

Kato Kaelin, the surfer-like Hollywood pretty boy and wannabe, who would become both a blessing and a curse for the prosecution.

O.J. and Nicole’s children, Sydney and Justin, the only really innocent bystanders in this whole sordid fiasco.

O.J.’s children from his first marriage, Jason and Arnelle.

 Nicole’s friend and jogging partner who showed up the morning after the tragic event for their daily jog only to find a trail of Nicole’s blood tracked by her beloved Akita dog to her bloodied body.

They were joined by a colourful cavalcade of 30 or so friends.

 And there, in the front row, perched anxiously on the edge of his seat sobbing too convincingly was The Juice.

As he slumped in his chair next to the casket, he sat alone.

 I remember thinking that if my wife had just been brutally murdered, my first and foremost emotion would be outrage.

 Nicole’s family was anything but the consoling former in-laws.

In fact, for as long as I was there, not once did they communicate with their ex-son-in-law in any way.

 Not a soul dared to speak about the crime. It was evident that everyone was bursting at the seams, dying to cast their vote as to O.J.’s guilt, but propriety prevented them from doing so.

The tension was unbearable.

 As the event came to its pathetic end an hour later, and I prepared to depart, I realised that this funeral was just a formality.

 The real burial could not possibly happen under these strained circumstances, not until the case was closed, and the ugly memories were allowed to fade.

The Grave of Nicole Brown Simpson

 Only then could Nicole ever finally rest in peace.

Chris Benguhe

O.J. Simpson Trial of the Century  (1996)

Ascension Cemetery Lake Forest California

“Laid to Rest?”

There is no peace for Nicole Brown Simpson, not even in death.

Torn from this world before her time by a merciless barrage of bloody blows, the young mom went to her final resting place in an unmarked, $500 plot beneath a Spruce tree at Ascension Cemetery in Lake Forest…

The grave is a picture of serenity – but only if you don’t look too hard…

Up close, as a gentle wind blows in from the Pacific, the grass is trampled and the flowers never remain more than a few hours before they are snatched up by curiosity seekers and morbid souvenir hunters…

A mourner who had come to pay her respects at the nearby grave of her daughter could barely contain her disgust.

“There were mobs of people here… I don’t think they showing proper reverence… I saw one group stealing the flowers, right off the top of her grave. They don’t seem to care that this is a cemetery, not a circus.”

The 35-year-old mother of two was given a traditional Catholic funeral at the graveside after a special Mass at St Martin of Tours Catholic Church in Los Angeles near her old Brentwood home.

At her side and feet are her German-born grandparents, Joseph Baur, who died in 1977, and Pauline who died in 1977. They originally came from the small town of Rollwald in Germany where Nicole’s mother Juditha was born.

Star Magazine (August 9 1994)

“A Furious Friendship”

The man who was nailed by O.J. Simpson making love to his ex-wife Nicole has been identified by pals as Keith Zlomsowitch.

Zlomsowitch, who was once the manager of Mezzaluna – the restaurant where slain Ronald Goldman worked as a waiter – was caught with his pants down when pals say the football star walked in on him and Nicole having sex on the living room couch.

Nicole and Keith split up soon afterward, but remained good friends – he was even one of the pall bearers at her funeral.

But the incident continued to haunt O.J. Last October he reportedly exploded after seeing Keith’s picture in a family photo album – which prompted Nicole to make the infamous 911 call after O.J. returned to her condo in a fury.

Globe Magazine (July 19 1994)

“2pm on Thursday June 16 1994”

One Week in History

Thursday June 16 1994 at 2pm

At the Ascension Cemetery in Lake Forest, Orange County, Nicole Brown Simpson is laid to rest.

The Grave of Nicole Brown Simpson

Plot: Section A, Tier 17, Grave 97

Ascension Cemetery

Lake Forest

Orange County

California, USA

“11am on Thursday June 16 1994”

One Week in History

Thursday June 16 1994 at 11am

O.J. Simpson accompanied by his family and children Sydney and Justin, attends the funeral service for Nicole Brown Simpson at St Martin of Tours Church in Brentwood.

Sunset and evening star,

And one clear call for me!

And may there be no moaning of the bar,

When I put out to sea,


But such a tide as moving seems asleep,

Too full for sound and foam,

When that which drew from out the boundless deep

Turns again home.


Twilight and evening bell,

And after that the dark!

And may there be no sadness of farewell,

When I embark;


For though from out our bourne of Time and Place

The flood may bear me far,

I hope to see my Pilot face to face

When I have crossed the bar. 


Crossing the Bar

Alfred Lord Tennyson



The funeral service for Ronald Lyle Goldman is held at the Pierce Brothers Valley Oaks Memorial Park in Westlake Village.

The Grave of Ronald Lyle Goldman 

Plot: Beth Olam garden, Plot 63, Grave D

Pierce Brothers Valley Oaks Memorial Park

Westlake Village

Los Angeles County

California, USA