• Home
  • About Curry
  • Upcoming Events
  • Columns
  • Newsroom
  • Speaking Request
  • Books by Curry
  • Photo Gallery
  • Top 100 Black Books
  • Black Colleges
  • Resource Center
  • Tell A Friend


Subscribe to The Curry Report
View Past Curry Reports
 


Johnnie Cochran and the ‘No-Js’
By George E. Curry
Apr 4, 2005

Share This Column

Before he died of an inoperable brain tumor, Johnnie Cochran acknowledged that he would be forever known as the head of the “Dream Team” of lawyers that got O.J. Simpson acquitted of murdering his former wife, Nicole, and her friend Ronald Goldman. But Cochran’s career can be more accurately defined as representing what he called “No-Js” – common, everyday people who found themselves victimized by the criminal justice system.

Sure, Cochran was at times a lawyer to the stars: Michael Jackson, actors Jim Brown and Todd Bridges, Snoop Dogg, Tupac Shakur, P. Diddy and O.J. In fact, he said having wealthy clients allowed him to take on cases of No-Js who otherwise would be unable to afford his services. He was more than the now-famous soundbite: “If it doesn’t fit, you must acquit.”

Cochran was a prosecutor before he became a defense attorney. And in his very first case representing defendants, he filed a wrongful death suit for the widow of Leonard Deadwyler, a Black motorist who was shot to death by Los Angeles police as he rushed his pregnant wife to the hospital. Cochran lost that case but went on to win a string of victories involving police brutality.

The most vexing case of Cochran’s career involved former Black Panther Party member Elmer Geronimo Pratt. In 1968, Kenneth and Caroline Olsen were waiting for friends in Santa Monica, Calif. to join them in a game of tennis when they were accosted by two men described as Black and in their 20s. The White couple was forced to lay face-down as the gunmen opened fire on them. The husband survived, but the wife didn’t. Kenneth Olsen two years later would identify Pratt as one of two men who shot him and his wife.

Julius Butler, a Black undercover FBI and local police department informant, would later testify that Pratt had confessed to killing the Olsens. At the time of the trial, however, Cochran did not know Butler was a paid informant. Without that knowledge, which was later disclosed in Freedom of Information documents, Butler was perceived as a credible and untainted witness.

Pratt was found guilty even though the FBI had Black Panther wiretaps proving that Pratt was in Oakland at the time of the shooting incident in Southern California. Pratt would serve 27 years before his innocence was firmly established. Cochran said the release of Pratt on murder charges marked “the happiest day of my life practicing law.”

There are other markers that give us better insight into Cochran. When Al Sharpton was fined for defaming a cop in the Tawana Brawley case, Cochran quietly helped pay his fine. He also took up the case of Reginald Denny, the White trucker who was pummeled in the middle of urban rebellion in Los Angeles. Cochran, an opponent of capital punishment, demonstrated courage and deep sincerity when he requested that a suspect not be given the death penalty for the murder of Cochran’s younger brother.

Cochran’s book, “Journey to Justice,” written with Tim Rutten, explains his passion for the legal system.

“When I walk into a courtroom, I’m not merely defending the individual who stands accused,” he wrote. “I’m defending a legal system that guarantees the presumption of innocence and every individual’s right to equal protection under the law. The only way that you or I can be assured of our right to a fair trial is if every citizen in the land is assured of his/her right to a fair trial. When one of us is denied justice, all of us are denied justice.”

I remember chatting with Cochran at a party following an Essence magazine awards program in New York. Jamie Foxx along with P. Diddy and other celebrities were also in attendance at the after-party. As I watched Cochran work the room, I noticed that he didn’t spend any more time with the stars than with lesser-known people waiting to get an autograph, a photograph or trying to recruit him for a case. He had the unique ability to make each person he spoke with feel they were the most important person in the room.

Johnnie L. Cochran Jr.’s middle initial did not stand for anything. But the name Johnnie Cochran will forever stand for the very best in our legal system. And Cochran was at his best when he has advocating on behalf of the No-Js, not the OJs.

Next Column: A Labor of Betrayal

Back To Columns