Jim was a great host to me when I drove to California in August of 1998. It was my first trip to the West Coast and my first time to meet him in person. We’d had an “online” friendship for about a year at that time. We’d started writing fiction together. And we’d had endless phone calls. Still, nothing guarantees you’ll click when you meet in person. And of course, there are many things you’ve yet to learn about each other after a long-distance friendship.
We’d already spent a couple of days together when he drove my car Jet to give me an LA tour. I can’t remember how many celebrity homes–or gates keeping us away from homes–we saw in Beverly Hills and Bel Air, though I seem to recall the names Nancy Reagan and Joan Crawford, among many others. And then…
Jim: Now we’re in Brentwood.
Becky (excited): Really? Brentwood?
Jim (curious glance): Ye-eee-s.
Becky: Where OJ Simpson lives?
Jim: Not anymore. That house was sold, and I think it’s being torn down.
Becky: Oh.
Jim: Are you saying–did you want to GO there?
Becky: Um…yeah?
Jim: You’re kidding, right?
Becky: …..
Jim: You’re not kidding. Huh. I never saw this one coming.
Becky: I guess I’m a terrible person.
Jim: It’ll be our secret.
The house was gone. And this is really all we could see.
And now the Internet knows. I’m a terrible, gawking human being. If it will redeem me at all, I never watch Nancy Grace.
so funny…. I totally remember that day. what a great time. Elizabeth Montgomery and Eleanor Parker’s houses, too! but I couldn’t believe you wanted to see Simpson’s house, LOL.
And Agnes Moorehead’s house–I just remembered that one.
I’d be right there with you … but I’m also the girl whose dream vacation would include a stay at the Lizzie Borden House.
I knew you wouldn’t judge me! =)