Every chance that she got, she made my life a living hell.
They were neighbors turned to bitter enemies.
She's a damn liar and so is he.
Was it prejudice?
I couldn't go outside without being called when a girl speaks.
Or was it something else? Mike Becher on a feud gone too far.
A dramatic moment as Nicole Brown's sister takes the stand.
Pick her up, throw her against the wall.
We'll have the latest Century Evening News.
America watched as baby Jessica was taken from the only parents she'd ever known.
Now a decision in the case of baby Richard some find hard to believe.
Shocking, outrageous, heartless.
Lisa Rudolph asks which couple will raise the boy who both consider their own.
Miracles do happen. You saw it live on Super Bowl Sunday.
But how did they know the winner was at home?
That's the house.
John Scott reveals the secrets of the Publishers Clearinghouse Prize Patrol.
Date Live with Tom Brokaw, Jane Pauli and Stone Phillips, plus Katie Couric, Bryant Gumbel and Maria Schreiber.
From our studios in New York, here is Tom Brokaw.
Good evening.
Later in the program, today's developments in the O.J. Simpson trial, but first, do you think your home is your castle?
We'd better think again.
What if you were feuding with your neighbor and it got so bad it ended up in court?
Could you actually wind up having to sell your home and move?
This happened in Chicago, and as Mike Becher reports, you'll be amazed at how it turned out.
Every chance that she got, she made my life a living hell.
Her and the entire family, they were constantly on me like vultures.
They just wouldn't leave me alone.
I want a hanger. I want a hanger because she's a damn liar, and so is he.
They say a good fence makes for a good neighbor, but there wasn't a fence high enough to end one particularly nasty feud in a usually quiet northwest side Chicago neighborhood.
Actually, the word feud doesn't adequately describe what became a neighborhood war.
The crafts of North Keating Avenue see themselves as white Americans crushed by reverse discrimination.
The family believes the system is stacked against them.
My dad's going blind. My mom's got heart trouble. We were set up.
We didn't do none of these things that the Ramesses are saying we did.
These people are the worst that I have ever encountered when it comes in terms of race, in terms of the harassments, in terms of everything imaginable.
I honestly believe some of them belong in jail.
North Keating Avenue sits right in the heart of Chicago's bungalow belt.
Nice, tidy homes with clean, well-kept yards.
That's why the crafts moved here 19 years ago, and what caught the Ramesses' eye 9 years ago.
And just like in any other American neighborhood, neighbors argue. It's normal.
So why then did a dispute between the crafts in 2213 and the Ramesses in 2215 become a federal case?
It can't simply be that people live so close together here.
All the bungalows in this ethnically and racially mixed part of town are separated by small alleys the locals call gangways.
So maybe it's best to begin at the beginning, the crafts. Kathy Craft said it all began this way.
The husband asked me to go out, and she threw all these false charges on me.
Did you go out with him?
No.
And you really think this stems from that?
Correct.
Next door, they remember it differently. They say the trouble began two days after they moved into their new home.
The front door bell rang, and it was a blonde woman. I opened the door and I invited her in.
She said that her name was Kathy Craft, and she said that she didn't have to come in.
What she had to say to me, she could tell me outside.
And she told me that she had told Mr. and Mrs. Patrick that lived here before us not to sell to spixer niggers.
That's got to be a real shock.
Oh, it was like getting whacked in the head with a bat. Here's reality.
Now, Kathy Craft says that the reason you have a problem with her is that you had a thing for Kathy Craft.
In terms of me asking her out, it has never taken place.
Absolutely not true.
Positively not true. It was racial from day one, and it never let up. It was a constant harassment.
In all of the United States, it may have been the worst case of neighbor against neighbor.
There are stacks of police reports, dozens of court proceedings.
The Ramoses filed a 32-page itemized complaint alleging intimidation, assault, criminal trespass, damage to property, and hate crimes.
In their first television interview, Bo and Minerva Ramos talked about their life on North Keating Avenue.
Anytime they had an opportunity to either attack my wife or myself, oh, they took advantage of it.
We were like vultures.
Do you recall all the names you recall?
The gamut. Nigger, Spick, Poor Chop, Jungle Bunny.
What did they call you?
Normally, just Spick, Poor, all the time.
And Bo Ramos says the harassment followed him to work.
Item six on five.
Even though Bo Ramos is a police officer assigned to the City Hall Detail.
Hey, you're a Chicago cop. I mean, weren't they afraid of that?
Do I think that they had any fear for me? No.
If anything, they used it at their advantage because they knew how to manipulate the system, how to get at me.
The Crafts complained to the Chicago Police Department 12 times, accusing Officer Ramos of, among other things, threatening Kathleen Craft with bodily harm, ruling unfounded, harassing Kathy Craft, ruling unfounded, ordering his wife to hit Kathy Craft, ruling not sustained.
What they attempted to do as alleged in the complaint is file false complaints against him.
Darren Watts worked for a prominent Chicago law firm that took the Ramos case free of charge.
They were trying to get at him through his employment, in addition to him, get at him through his home and his sanctuary, if you will.
Ramos says there was at least one advantage to wearing a badge.
Mr. Craft tells me, if it wasn't because you're a Chicago police officer, we'd have no problem getting somebody to burn your home, basically, is what they said.
Then there was the sign that appeared one winter day in the gangway between the two houses.
She puts a sign down on their property, do not throw snow on my property, and in parentheses, nigger.
The Crafts admit making the sign, but say the Ramoses added the racial slur to strengthen their claims of harassment.
Well, we had a sign made because he was throwing snow on our property.
Now, all of a sudden, the word nigger appeared underneath it.
If you look at the photos, it was in two different inks, two distinctly different handwritings.
It's hard to believe that this kind of venom could continue at such a pitch for years, but it did, and it was worse during the summers.
Minerva Ramos remembers July 4, 1992. North Keating Avenue was celebrating the holiday.
Minerva and 62-year-old Marie Craft supplied the fireworks.
We're both walking in the gangway, and she comes and smacks me right in the head with a flashlight.
And I reacted. I hit her back.
Didn't you ever look at him and say, honey, I think we've been a little bit too patient?
I told him. I said, Beau, I want to leave. I don't care what it takes. Let's just get out of here before something happens to us.
And something did happen when Beau Ramos met up with the Crafts' son-in-law, George Willard.
Looks me just like I'm looking at you right in the eyes right now, Mike, and says, hey, f-----g spick.
When I walk over, I tell him, what is your problem?
With that, he swings with his right hand, and I block it with this, and then he swings with his left hand, and it slides right over my arm and catches me on the neck.
Well, with the second swing, I was already cocked back, and I just let him have one right in the eye.
Another charge filed by the Crafts against Officer Ramos. Assault, this time. Ruling not sustained.
George Willard was arrested for assault. His case is pending.
And just when the Ramos' thought it couldn't get any worse, they say they got a collect phone call from an inmate in this Cook County jail.
And he says that he was a cellmate of one of the Crafts' members. That through their association, another of the Crafts' members had solicited him to come out and put a hit, as he put it, on us.
The prisoner was one Johnny Rivera. John Craft Jr. was indeed in Cook County jail at the time, on an auto theft charge.
Did you ever know a Johnny Rivera?
I met him in Cook County jail. At the time I was locked up, and when I was called in the house here, my family was telling me what was going on with the neighbor next door.
And I was talking about it, and he told me that if you want to do something about it, I can take care of it.
And you never went to him?
I never went to him, and I told him, I says, no, I says I don't want, you know, none done about it.
The charges flew constantly. The Ramos' say it was all out war, and caught in the crossfire were their children, Ivan, Michael, and Mindy.
The only thing that they ever said to me were racial slurs by calling me a spick and a whore. Right now, I'm not living at home. And the reason I left was because of what was going on.
What happened to you?
A lot of stuff. Couldn't go outside.
I thought we'd call little niggers spick. Couldn't play with my friends. I thought I'd have my mom and my dad watching me as a bodyguard.
They called me like little names of like little niggers. And they called my brother one. And one time, my brother...
Did you make racial slurs? Did you yell at those kids?
As God is my witness, no, I never did. Never in my entire life. Nobody in this whole family ever called them racial slurs.
But the Ramos' say they had had enough. After nine years of living next to the Crafts, they brought a $10 million civil rights suit against them in federal court. The Crafts decided not to fight.
We couldn't prove our innocence because we didn't have the money to back it up. If we would have had the money, we would have fought it to the end.
And in an unprecedented settlement before Judge Ann Williams, the Ramos' agreed to drop the lawsuit if the Crafts would sell their home and move out of 2213 North Keating. If the house didn't sell in 180 days, it would be auctioned by the court.
I feel bad because I don't think we should move. This house is ours. I said I wanted to stay here until I die. We've worked for this house. We've put money into it. We said they should move. They've caused all these problems with us.
We are not racist. We've been here. I'm so upset. No.
Why are you upset?
Because I know we're going to lose this house because of all these business lines.
What do you think about your rights?
We have none.
We have none. Not with him.
We've lost all our rights with this guy.
Because he's got it all. He's got the whole city of Chicago. Because I want to hang him. Because they have all the rights. They feel because he's a lousy, lousy policeman. He's a rotten, dirty policeman.
Cop. Without that badge and without that gun, he's just like we are. Working like a citizen. That is all. He is. But he is rotten. And so is she.
Like I said, if he didn't have that goddamn badge and that pistol, I don't give a damn. He is nobody. Like I said. He's got everybody on his side because he's getting everything for nothing.
And he's laughing about it. And he comes through this goddamn yard like a chimpanzee with his big teeth out. And he's laughing. This is the honest to God truth. I don't give a damn. I want it to come out.
They stole nine and a half years of our lives. They took those years away from me and my children that we could enjoy this house. The judge says, close this chapter in your lives. Start again. But I can never forget what these people have done to me and my family.
Bo says he wanted to stay on as a matter of principle. I'm not sure any principle's worth that, is it?
Yes. Yes. And I will tell you why. Because if somebody else, some other one of your viewers finds themselves in the same shoes that we were in, don't move. Fight it.
If you're right, if you haven't done nothing, then don't flee. Fight it.
The craft home on North Keating Avenue still is on the market. Even though they've already lowered the price, the crafts have no idea where they'll be moving after it is sold or auctioned.
Coming up.
I am entitled to be a father of the child.
Is the end in sight in the Baby Richard custody battle? Who will get to raise the boy both call their own?
Plus, explosive testimony as Nicole Brown's sister takes the stand.
O.J., grab Nicole's crotch. This is where babies come from. This belongs to me.
Up to the minute news from the O.J. Simpson trial.
From our studios in New York, here is Jane Pauley.
Remember the story of Baby Richard, the boy whose biological parents have been fighting to get him back from the couple that adopted him at birth nearly four years ago?
Now, after a long legal tug of war, the end may finally be in sight. Here's Lisa Rudolph with the very latest.
I think that picture of Jessica crying as she was taken away haunts a lot of people's nights, dreams, still.
And I think people thought that, well, as awful as this is, at least it will never happen again.
The court custody battle over Baby Richard's future. It's another excruciating custody battle that's riveting people in Chicago and across the nation.
A battle with stakes and emotions running so high, ordinary citizens are speaking out.
And Illinois's governor is lashing out.
Heartless, incredibly inhumane.
He's known to the courts as Baby Richard, but he's no longer a baby. He is almost four years old.
His is a story filled with accusations of deception and emotional terrorism by two sets of parents who each claim Richard as their rightful son.
Do they think it's right to give a chance to do legal kidnappings?
Otto Kirchner, the biological father.
You think that it was a legal kidnapping?
Yeah, I believe that it was a legal kidnapping.
I think the biological parents fabricated this whole story.
Richard Lifshitz is one of the attorneys representing the adoptive couple known as John and Jane Doe, who have chosen to remain anonymous.
Why are the biological parents fighting so hard?
I think that they're fighting so hard because they perhaps realized that they did something that they now regret.
On March 16, 1991, at this suburban Chicago hospital, Otto's girlfriend, Daniella, gave birth to a 7-pound, 12-ounce healthy baby boy.
But the couple had already split up.
At that point I thought that we would never get back together with Otto, and I thought the best thing for him will be to have two parents.
Four days after her son was born, Daniella signed adoption papers, giving him up to a firefighter and his wife, who already had a 4-year-old son of their own.
They were not looking to adopt a child.
It was only when they were presented with this situation by an attorney that they decided to come forward because they felt that this child needed help.
Daniella had also made a decision about what Otto would be told about the baby.
I didn't have the guts to tell him.
Plus he would probably know that I'm not telling the truth because I'm not the liar.
Someone else would tell the baby's father that the baby was dead.
Why?
I wanted to make it safe for the adoptive parents so he wouldn't look for him.
It looks really interesting.
With Otto back in Chicago, they reconciled, and Daniella told him what really happened to their son.
Were you angry at Daniella when you found out she had given the baby up for adoption?
She said actually something about, put the new sunshine in my life.
The baby is still in life.
The best interest of the child...
Otto's euphoria quickly faded when he discovered Illinois' adoption law stood in the way of getting his son back.
Daniella had already forfeited her rights, and state law gives a father only 30 days after birth to show reasonable interest in claiming his parental rights.
Remember, baby Richard was born March 16th.
That gave Otto until April 15th to come forward.
But he says he didn't know his son was alive until May 12th, 57 days after the birth.
Nobody told me the baby is alive.
Nobody told me there is a baby, here is your son.
When the case went to trial in September of 91, with baby Richard six months old, the Illinois County Court never considered charges Otto physically abused Daniella.
Allegations he denies, and she now says she made up.
The court did, however, rule Otto Kirchner was in fact unfit, saying he showed no reasonable interest in the first 30 days of the life of this child.
The adoption was upheld.
And in August of 1993, with baby Richard two and a half, an appeals court also ruled for the adoptive parents.
In their first television interview, the Do's finally spoke up.
We're extremely happy that his life will go on unaffected by everything that's been going on around him.
He's totally unaware, which is glad that it's never going to have to be any different than that.
Despite the courtroom losses, Otto, himself a product of a broken home, says he was determined to keep fighting for his son.
I was raised without a father and mother, and I always promised myself this never could happen to my child.
In fact, the Kirchners have been consumed with getting baby Richard back.
I keep in my first picture of my husband when he was little, and I really think that our son looks exactly like my husband.
Is it hard not knowing what he must really look like?
Even he may not. At least I have something to look at and to visualize him some way.
Then last June, with baby Richard three years and three months old, the state's highest court stunned both sides by reversing the two lower court rulings, blaming the mother for trying to deprive the father of his rights.
It also blamed the adoptive parents, who it said should have relinquished the baby as soon as the real father came forward, not after three years of litigation.
This will be my son. He will know me very soon.
And it seemed that baby Richard was about to be turned over to the biological father he has never seen, taken from the only family he has ever known.
It's devastating for a child to be taken from a home. That's all I can tell you, and I've put enough psychiatrists on the stand to know that they'll uniformly testify that it's something that will leave a lasting scar on the kid.
Cook County public guardian Patrick Murphy, who represents baby Richard, was outraged by the judge's opinion.
We're killing this kid two ways. We're not only taking his parents, we're taking his brother. And how do you justify that?
Richard's the person we need to keep in mind.
I would do whatever it takes to get my child back.
To be yanked from everything that he knows to nothingness.
In Chicago, the decision to turn Richard over to his biological father provoked one of the most passionate public outcries in recent memory.
But a month later, the scales tipped again. We were with Otto and Daniela when they learned the Illinois Supreme Court ruling they thought would get their son back was now in yet another round of appeals.
That's great. So where is the best interest of the baby?
In the coming months, as Otto's outstanding legal bills climbed to more than $300,000, he lost his job at the restaurant, which closed, and he and Daniela were evicted from their apartment following a rent dispute.
Who took him to see Santa Claus? Who sent him to free school? With whose brother did he wrestle on the floor?
Doesn't a child have a right to be with his natural parents? Isn't that also a child's right?
But last week, in still another twist, the Illinois Supreme Court ruled the Doe's, now forced into the public spotlight in this courtroom, must immediately surrender custody of Richard.
Once again, there was a public uproar. This time, a local TV commentator went so far as to broadcast the home phone number of the state's chief justice.
And the governor once again blasted the court's decision.
I know I am joined by millions of my fellow citizens in being disgusted and pained by this heartbreaking decision.
This is not something that I am trying to hurt someone or get revenge.
I am entitled to be a father of the child, but the transition has to be made that way the child will not get hurt.
But those supporting the adoptive parents have been holding tearful vigils, praying Richard stays right where he is. And even though the U.S. Supreme Court refused to take the case, the Doe's are appealing to the high court again.
But all this legal wrangling has taken its toll. The two sides aren't talking, and privately, some close to the case speculate Otto, becoming increasingly frustrated, may change his mind, and simply take his son.
Meanwhile, the only person not traumatized in this case, at least for now, is a little boy known as baby Richard. His family has shielded him from the battle raging around him.
He has no idea how much pain can come from parents' love.
He never lied. He never deceived anyone. Is it fair for him to pay for your mistakes?
I think he will pay for my mistakes if he can't be with his real family. And if you don't know about your parents, about your real parents, you have hope in your life, which no one can replace.
Someday that child is going to find out how hard his biological parents fought to get him back.
He can't turn the clock back on this little boy. He's lived with these people his whole life.
To deny him his existence really is to say that he is a used car or a chattel. And he's not.
While the end of the legal battle over baby Richard may finally be in sight, Otto and Daniela are looking forward to a new beginning of another kind.
Daniela is pregnant and due this August.
Coming up, Nicole Brown's sister takes the stand.
She ended up falling. She ended up on her elbows and on her butt.
The latest Century Evening News.
Still ahead tonight, the perils of live television.
No matter how much planning, no one can predict what's going to go wrong.
These guys have an even bigger problem.
You think your secret is still safe?
Very, very safe.
They're trying to pull off a surprise while the biggest audience of the year is watching.
These are the guys from Publishers Clearing House Prize Patrol. They're delivering a $10 million check to people who don't know it's coming.
They work hard for the money.
How will they pull off one of the biggest gambles in live TV?
That's coming up on Dateline.
Anyone who has had anything to do with live television can tell you it is high risk.
So imagine giving away $10 million as part of a live commercial.
And to make it even more nerve-racking, doing it in the moments right after the Super Bowl.
That's what Publishers Clearing House did last Sunday.
John Scott wondered how they could pull it off without a hitch.
There, now. The lights are on.
That means maybe it's not just her.
Well, here's the house.
Here's the house.
The white gate right here.
Let's see. There's still nothing on it inside.
How would you feel if two strangers were lurking outside your house at night, watching to see if anyone's home?
If it were these two, you'd be ecstatic. Todd Sloan on the left and Dave Sayer on the right, better known from commercials as the Prize Patrol.
$10 million from Publishers Clearing House.
For seven years, they've traveled the country, making ordinary people extraordinarily rich.
How much money have you given away since the Prize Patrol started?
About $70 million, something like that.
Over $70 million.
$70 million. What does that feel like?
Well, you know, it really is pretty overwhelming.
And you do feel kind of divine after a while, as if you have some supernatural powers having an effect on someone's life in such a tremendous way.
We can't win the money because we're employees of the company, but if I can't win it, it's sure it's a nice job to give it away.
The company is Publishers Clearing House, not to be confused with American Family Publishers.
They use famous guys to give away their money.
You've just won $10 million in the American Family Sweepstakes.
American Family has Ed McMahon and Dick Clark.
Publishers Clearing House has Dave Sayre and Todd Sloan.
Dave and Todd are supposed to surprise their winners at home, but sometimes they're the ones caught off guard.
We've met pit bulls. We've had people come to the door half-dressed.
We've had things happen that are just not what you'd really like to happen, you know, at midnight when we've had to knock on the door.
So it's never easy, but this year, the Prize Patrol promised the nation something never attempted before.
Live, as it's happening, right after the Super Bowl, the biggest winner could be you.
And just what would they do if their winner wasn't home?
To find out, Dateline joined the Prize Patrol for a week to watch them try to pull it off.
Here we go.
The Prize Patrol's long journey really began here in this cavernous processing center on Long Island.
Out of the tens of millions of responses that flooded this place, the winning entry was picked.
Contestants received entry forms in the mail and were invited to send them back.
Machines scanned each entry, looking for the match to a unique computer-generated number chosen two years ago.
At a top-secret meeting, an outside accountant told Dave and Todd what the machines had found.
There is no match.
That means whoever received the winning number in the mail never returned it.
So they go to Plan B.
The company president uses a bingo cage to randomly generate a new number.
A computer matches that number to the name of someone who did return an entry.
We got it.
And the winner's name and address is turned over to the Prize Patrol.
Thank you.
Can you come in? We've got to make some plans now.
It is Wednesday morning. They have just four days to locate the winner.
If that person is out of town, Dave and Todd risk looking very foolish to a huge audience after the Super Bowl.
So the first thing we should check into, I think, is flights.
But they must also be secretive.
Todd phones information for a listing under the winner's name.
Yes, in Phoenix, please.
And then calls to see if anyone answers.
Answer machine.
Do you take steps to make sure they're at home?
We really can't because that would give off, you know, tip off the surprise.
So you don't alert these people ahead of time?
No. You don't want to tell the person who you're throwing the surprise party for that,
hey, there's a surprise party here next Friday.
You want it to be a surprise, and that's what we're hoping for.
Friday morning, New York City.
Two men board an airplane bound for Phoenix.
Dateline joined them using hidden cameras to protect their secret mission.
Dave and Todd both have real jobs at Publishers Clearinghouse.
But when they go on prize patrol tracking down their winner, each makes a sort of career change.
Secret Asian man, secret Asian man, they've given you a number.
Do you guys have surveillance experience?
Only that which we've managed to pick up on the job.
Police department training?
No, no.
Military police?
No, no.
CIA, FBI?
Just being discreet, that's what's important.
Yes, they try to be discreet, but there have been slip-ups.
We once sent out a junior member of our team a couple of years ago to skill up out some lady,
and he was standing in front of our house for a little bit too long, and all of a sudden flashing lights came on behind him.
The prize patrol busted.
Busted.
We've been busted for speeding a couple of times, unfortunately.
Saturday morning in Phoenix, in a gray rental van, the prize patrol scopes out the house, and Dave and Todd are uneasy.
There was a car in the driveway once, so we are hopeful that that was a visitor, or perhaps the car belonged to the resident.
We're not sure.
It looks very quiet, which has got me a little nervous, but we know someone's in there.
Sunday morning, the big day.
The prize patrol takes a calculated gamble.
We got a little nervous that she wasn't going to be home, or maybe there was someone there, or it wasn't actually even her.
So we called her on the phone and did a little research study.
Good thing they did.
They claimed they'd be doing an opinion poll on Super Bowl commercials and asked her to participate.
She said she wouldn't be at home, she'd be at her son's house, and she gave us the phone number,
and she gave us the address of her son's house, so now we know where she'll be.
And she just volunteered?
She did.
I think the promise of paying her $50 for some research study at halftime made her come through with a little bit more information.
The prize patrol is in position to strike.
It's 1 o'clock, so it's about four hours away.
But it won't be easy.
Logistics are complicated, the timing critical.
Before they even get out of the van, Peter and I will hop out of, hop out, I guess, either that van or a different van.
Sunday's final planning session is as calculated as a bank robbery, but these guys are giving away money, not taking it.
By now, roughly 30 people know where the winner lives, and that puts Dave and Todd's secret identities and their $10 million surprise at risk.
Sunday afternoon, another check of the house.
The gray van will pass this new location 10 times today, and if all goes well, its final stop will be something of a miracle.
Miracles can happen, can happen for you.
Dave likes the theme song.
He wrote it.
The house where dreams come true.
They stop to pick up flowers and inflate prize patrol balloons, but no one at the flower shop seems to catch on.
Their secret is safe.
5 p.m., Phoenix time.
The Super Bowl is in its second quarter when a strange caravan suddenly pulls up to a staging area four blocks from the winner's house.
With TV cameras, a satellite uplink truck, and a 60-foot tractor trailer rig, they're attracting just a tiny bit of attention.
One of the papers over there said, what are you guys doing here?
And the guy from the crew said, we're just making a commercial.
She said, oh, I thought it was probably just cleaning up.
I got scared for a second.
Make sure that we get sort of an order of vehicles, because it's going to be chaos.
Oh, hi. Is Mary Ann Brandt there?
The pretend researcher makes one last phone check.
We just want to make sure you were there, and we're going to be calling back in just a few minutes.
They don those familiar blue blazers, slap the logo on their van, and a very edgy prize patrol is ready to roll.
OK, we've done it before, and we're doing it again.
A little bit more pressure this time.
OK, OK.
5.25, Phoenix time.
The prize patrol pulls up to the home of Michael Kloss, hoping his mother, Mary Ann Brandt, the $10 million winner, really is inside.
Is Mary Ann here?
Yes.
Mary Ann?
Oh, my God!
Mary Ann, you've just won $10 million from Publishers Clearinghouse.
Oh, my God!
All of America's.
What have you got to say?
$10 million?
40 seconds.
The winning moment is beamed to the nation as soon as the game ends.
The prize patrol is live in Phoenix, Arizona, where moments ago we could buy a brand.
This was the easiest one we ever did.
A little nerve-racking, but I don't think it could have gone any better.
We'll try and do it better every time.
Go to one more town on the map, find one more lucky person, and someday it may be you, John Scott.
Miracles can happen.
Can happen for you.
The one question everyone always asks about the Clearinghouse sweepstakes is,
did the winner actually order any magazines?
Well, this year's winner did not, although now she certainly can afford to.
Still ahead...
We're all sitting there screaming and crying, and then he grabbed me and threw me out of the house.
Emotional testimony from the victim's sister.
Today's developments in the O.J. Simpson trial.
Also, can you guess what year it was?
The Dateline timeline.
From our studios in Los Angeles, here is Stone Phillips.
Now a special Dateline feedback.
A letter to Billy Best, the teenager with cancer who opted not to continue chemotherapy.
The letter came from Angelina Samaraki.
I'm seven and a half years old.
When I got cancer, I was four and a half years old.
I have high-risk lymphoblastic leukemia.
I am upset because Billy Best had a 90% chance of being cured.
His parents let him off chemotherapy.
I think that they should make him go back on.
When I saw that TV show, I wanted to jump into the TV and tell Billy not to be so scared.
I know that the side effects are not the best, Billy, for our because I had a lot of bad ones.
But I think that even though to get to this point, I had to be brave.
It was worth it.
I think that Billy should take his medicine and get cured so he can go on with his life.
Thank you, Angelina Samaraki.
Now the Dateline timeline.
All the following events happened during this, the first week of February.
Do you know what year it was?
Fidel Castro cut off the water supply to the U.S. Naval Base at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba.
Sergeant Shriver was named director of the War on Poverty.
And now, here he is, Ed Sullivan.
The Sullivan Show headed the Nielsons.
Let's hear it for them.
The game is over, Mrs. Lampert.
Charade was the top movie.
And the hit single was I Want to Hold Your Hand by the Beatles.
All right, what year was it?
1963, 1964, or 1965?
The answer, when Dateline continues.
So what year was it?
Castro cut off Guantanamo's water.
Shriver was appointed.
And I Want to Hold Your Hand was the top song.
It all happened the first week of February, 1964.
Here again is Stone Phillips.
At the Simpson trial today, the prosecution continued its week-long effort to tear down
O.J. Simpson's nice-guy image, filling in its portrait of a man given the sudden outbursts of anger and violence.
And the key witness, a woman who has made her feelings about Simpson's guilt abundantly clear,
Nicole's sister, Denise Brown.
Grabbed Nicole, told her to get out of his house, wanted us all out of his house.
Picked her up, threw her against a wall.
Picked her up, threw her out of the house.
Denise Brown could not hold back the emotion, describing one of several incidents in which she says her former brother-in-law abused and humiliated Nicole Simpson.
She hit a dud up on her.
She had taken the stand late today, wearing the cross that belonged to her dead sister, speaking for the victim, attacking the defendant,
beginning with the first time she met O.J. Simpson at his home in Buffalo after a football game in 1977.
O.J. got real upset, and he started screaming at Nicole.
But no sooner had she said that than the defense demanded a sidebar conference away from the jury,
a clear indication of just how explosive this testimony was going to be.
And moments later, these instructions from Judge Ito.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you are to disregard, I am striking from the record, the last question and answer.
You are to disregard that, treat it as though you had never heard it.
So the prosecution turned to a new line of questions about an evening at a local restaurant several years into the Simpson marriage.
We were all drinking and goofing around and being loud and dancing and having a great time.
And then at one point, O.J. grabbed Nicole's crotch and said, this is where babies come from, and this belongs to me.
And Nicole just sort of wrote it off like it was nothing, like, you know, like she was used to that kind of treatment.
And it was like, I thought it was really humiliating, if you ask me.
And when he grabbed her in the crotch, were there people around?
Oh, yeah, the bar was packed.
Strangers?
Yeah. Yeah. He was talking to the strangers.
And during the time that these strangers were approaching him and shaking hands and things like that, did he appear to shy away from the attention at all?
Oh, no. No, not at all. He loves the attention. He loves it. He's got a big ego. He eats his ego.
And then another objection, another sidebar, and another admonition from the judge.
If you would answer just the precise question that they ask you, this will go a lot easier.
Okay.
Up until Denise Brown took the stand, it had been a relatively routine day of trying to flesh out the background and motive of the accused killer.
The prosecution witnesses coming in quick succession, more of them taking the stand this morning than on any morning so far.
And I happened to look outside and I saw a man outside on the sidewalk.
Carl Colby, a former neighbor of Nicole's, recalled an evening in the spring of 92 when he saw a man pacing outside of Nicole's house trying to look in.
If so disturbed Colby, he called 911.
After I'd made the call, I recognized him.
And who was that man?
It was Mr. Simpson.
Colby's wife, Catherine Bow, also testified about an argument she says she witnessed, elicited to bolster the prosecution's claim that Simpson was pathologically jealous.
Well, he was arguing loudly and also I saw a lot of the white of his eyes showing between the lid and the iris.
Well, who was he arguing loudly with?
Nicole.
What was he saying to Nicole?
I gather that he was angry at her thinking that she had been with another man and she was angry at him for being angry at her.
And then, yet another police officer who responded to calls for help from the troubled marriage.
The defendant was agitated. He was upset, pacing back and forth.
Robert Lerner was one of five officers who spent an hour and a half calming Simpson down on the night of October 25th, 1993, after a panicked 911 call from his ex-wife.
What is he doing? Is he threatening you?
I'm f----- going nuts.
The now famous 911 call was played for the jury late yesterday with hardly a flinch from O.J. Simpson as he listened to himself raging and Nicole pleading for 13 excruciating minutes.
Did you just please? O.J.? O.J.? O.J.? Did you just please?
And while you were talking, did you say something?
But today, it was the voice of her sister that captivated the court.
Tell them he took Nicole for granted.
Denise Brown recalling how on one occasion she had confronted Simpson about his treatment of her sister and got a violent reaction.
And then a whole fight broke out and pictures started flying off the walls.
Clothes started flying. Ran upstairs, got clothes, started flying down the stairs.
And grabbed Nicole, told her to get out of his house.
She ended up falling. She ended up on her elbows and on her butt.
And she threw, Edna came out, all sitting there screaming and crying. And then he grabbed me and threw me out of the house.
Are you okay, Ms. Brown?
Yeah, it's just so hard.
Concerned that the witness was too distraught to continue, Judge Ito recessed for the week.
Ladies and gentlemen, I'll see you back here Monday morning, 9 o'clock, every night weekend.
But the weekend hadn't started yet.
He says at 10.32 p.m., he saw an escalation between a blue and a white Ford Bronco.
Late tonight, lawyers for another potential witness came forward.
He just knows it was two black men driving in the car, but he could not identify anyone.
It was the night of the murders, and they said their client John McKinnon followed the Bronco for about a block
and managed to scribble part of the license plate on a bank receipt.
And it matched not O.J. Simpson's, but that of Simpson's good friend, Al Cowlings.
But sources close to Al Cowlings have told Dateline that police did not speak to McKinnon until after Cowlings' license plate had been seen by the world during that low-speed chase,
and that they have established Cowlings' whereabouts on the night of the murders, the week ending on another note of intrigue.
Boring any delays, Denise Brown will be back on the stand next week,
and it will be interesting to see how tough O.J.'s lawyers will be on her in front of the jury,
a woman they have accused of waging a public campaign to convict Simpson prematurely, but who's also still grieving over the loss of her sister.
And we'll be here next week to bring you the very latest.
Now let's take a look at some of the stories we're working on for next week's Dateline.
I walked in the door and she just looked at me and she said, you're having an affair. She just knew.
He was fooling around. She was fooling around. What makes so many couples cheat?
We are an animal driven by a whole pile of urges.
She claims it's genetic, but does adultery have to ruin a marriage?
Plus, he was a rising star with his sights set on the Olympics. Now he's serving time for murder.
I know that I didn't kill Maria, and I know that until the end of time.
Now we've discovered the evidence may not add up, and the new witnesses come forward to say they've got the wrong man.
It's a Dateline investigation. That's on next week's Dateline.
That's Dateline for this Friday. We'll see you again for Dateline Tuesday at 10 Eastern, 9 Central.
I'm Tom Brokaw. For all of us at NBC News, good night.