— Jason may have left his chef job the night of the murders earlier than he indicated to police, and would have been carrying his set of chef knives with him.
— Nicole had changed her plans and had not brought the family to eat at Jason’s restaurant the night of the murders, which Dear theorizes was a blow to Jason’s ego.
Nowak followed the Space Shuttle program, particularly the introduction of female astronauts, while she was growing up. Woodward High School in Rockville, Maryland, in 1981, and received her Bachelor of Science degree in aerospace engineering from the United States Naval Academy in 1985. Nowak received her commission in the United States Navy in 1985.
Nowak earned a Master of Science degree in aeronautical engineering, and a degree in aeronautical and astronautical engineering in 1992 from the U. In 1987, she became a Naval Flight Officer via the Tactical Navigation syllabus at Training Squadron 86 (VT-86) at NAS Pensacola, Florida.
But then I showed, step by step, how his theory is the worst kind of snow job that foregrounds coincidental information while ignoring or hiding the only evidence that really matters.
I’m going to reproduce my entire 2001 story, but first, here are the highlights for Huff Po readers who need bullet points.
If you are stuck in a relationship with someone who hurts you, you might not be able to see it right now, but don’t let go of the promise of something more. You’re fucking awesome and you only get this one life to be the person you were made to be.
The intensity of the moment gave me an enlightened sense of clarity. Health food stores became an excuse to find some basil, quinoa, and my soul-mate for life. I’ve tried telling myself that everything is fine and it’s all going to work out somehow. I’ve taken on the mission to bring back the perfect relationship so that I didn’t have to leave. I’ve been brave and forgiving and promised that I would always be there. I’ve practiced the conversation in my head over and over of exactly how I would say each word “I can’t be with you anymore. I’m leaving you.” Only to feel the terror pull back the words before they make it through my lips. Back in 2001, a private eye with a history of inserting himself into high-profile cases put out a self-published book with the really strange title of O. Few people took note of either his lame book or my takedown. Huff Po bit hard not only on Dear’s repackaging of the same old malarkey, O. Is Innocent And I Can Prove It, but also on the man himself, buying his tall tales about how he’s the best private investigator who ever lived, and has the only plausible explanation for who killed Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman. In 2001 I was a staff writer at New Times Los Angeles, a newspaper that no longer exists, and whose archives are no longer online. I read the book, interviewed the author, spent some time observing his methods, and then, in a 7,000-word story, tore him a new asshole over his reprehensible way of gathering information to make pure fantasy sound plausible.