When O.J. Phoned Traci

For Traci Adell, the past year has been an education in how to swim with the sharks without being bitten. It's not an experience she would care to repeat.

"I was an innocent person," explains Traci. "I had just moved to Los Angeles from Memphis--I was so naive. Then, all of a sudden, I was thrown into this huge media event and my life was chaotic for four or five months. Thank God I've learned a lot from it."

That media event began when Traci's Playmate layout appeared in the July 1994 issue. It was a splashy debut--readers loved her. One in particular, O.J. Simpson, was so taken with Traci that he called her in Maryland, where she was filming the movie Life 101. The day was Sunday, June 12, and the two talked on the phone for 35 to 40 minutes. When Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman were found murdered later that night, Traci was sucked into the vortex of tabloid journalism. The phone call itself was hardly extraordinary. "He was just a guy trying to get a date. I was picking his brain, trying to figure out how he turned his football career into a business. That's why I had moved to Los Angeles in the first place--to learn how to get an idea off the ground and into the marketplace, whether it's a movie I'm passionate about, or a story or a book. I want to know how to create it and get it into people's homes."

But the media were on a feeding frenzy. No story was too small or insignificant to escape full-scale investigation. At first, Traci told only her boyfriend--an O.J. Simpson fan--and a few friends about the call. Her best guess is that friends of friends leaked it to the tabloids, and she promptly found herself on the front page of the Globe. The next thing she knew, A Current Affair offered her what looked like a no-win proposition: "Either I could go on the air and tell the story of my talk with O.J., or they would do the story without me and make me look like a bimbo. My acting career was going well, and I didn't want to be portrayed (text concluded on page 146) Traci Adell (continued from page 59) negatively. So I cooperated. I'm disappointed in myself. I should never have talked to them because it wasn't important enough to talk about."

More stories followed, from respected publications--The New Yorker and Esquire--and from the National Enquirer, which put Traci's picture on the cover next to Nicole and O.J.'s girlfriend, Paula Barbieri, with the headline O.J.'s Women. It was a bit of a stretch, even for the Enquirer. "I never met O.J. in person and I never would have gone out with him," explains Traci. "He had a reputation as a womanizer, and that's not what I'm interested in."

Even more absurd was the media's insistence that she psychoanalyze O.J. on the basis of one phone call. "What freaked me out most," says Traci, "was talking with someone who seemed like a normal guy and then realizing that, six hours later, he might have lost it completely. It's incomprehensible to me. How could I have known? It's not like there's a natural course of action for someone who's about to snap. If I had it to do over again, I wouldn't talk to the media at all. I just want to set the record straight and move on."

These days, Traci concentrates on her career. There are two new movies, Deadly Ties, in which she plays an FBI agent gone wrong, and Showdown at Sundown, which features her as a young Zsa Zsa Gabor type. She also writes: She's completed two children's books, titled Miss Daisy and Willie the Bug Catcher, and a love story, Mary and Ben.

Of course, like everyone else, she pays close attention to the goings-on in Judge Lance Ito's courtroom. And it's not only Simpson she's had contact with. In fact, O.J. got Traci's phone number from the trial's chief comic relief, Kato Kaelin.

Traci had met Kato in January 1994. He was visiting the apartment complex where she lived and spotted her as she returned home one night. "A few minutes later," Traci recalls, "he was at my door asking, 'Do you have any birthday candles? I'm at a party downstairs and I need birthday candles.' I'm a private person and I don't like people stopping by my apartment, but he was likable and funny." After that night, they spoke a few more times: Kato tried to introduce her to his friends and even set her up for an audition. She declined to enter his social circle, however, and didn't hear from him again until the day before the murders, when he left her a message announcing O.J.'s impending call.

Although she had only brief contact with Simpson, she got to know his former houseguest a bit better. She notes that Kato was 35 years old and a father, but acted like a teenager. "His career wasn't really taking off, and he seemed to have decided to just have fun," says Traci. She found him to be engaging and clever. "The world is saying that Kato can't be that bright because he hasn't done much with his life so far. But part of his brain is very quick--I don't know how dumb you can be if you're that comical. He just can't put a life together."

Kato was a court jester even before the trial. His role as buddy to the stars was puzzling to Traci, who puts her social life a distant second to her career. "This town is based on successful people having flunky friends," she explains. "That pumps them up and makes them feel good. I'm not calling Kato a flunky, because he is very likable. He adds energy to a room with his conversation. Many celebrities are lonely, and while there are plenty of fun people around, you better watch out, because they'll take advantage of you. With Kato, you knew he wasn't going to rip off your bank account. He was harmless."

While Traci watched Kato pursue the good life, she became more determined to focus on her career. "I didn't come to Los Angeles to goof off or party," Traci says emphatically. "I came here for my dreams and my spirit."

Nor did Traci move to California to be part of an O.J. media circus. And while she sees that as a painful experience, at least it taught her something. "To come out here and meet con artists and all kinds of people really threw me," she says. "But I've come to terms with things, especially in the past year. I'm more mature and not so afraid. Now I know how to protect myself. You can't survive out here and be naive, and the past year has helped me get over my naivete."

No matter how well she understands Los Angeles and the entertainment industry, she's still not sure she likes them. Away from her family and friends in Memphis, Traci suffers occasional bouts of homesickness and culture shock.

"Los Angeles is so different from Memphis," she notes. "This is such a transient city. I miss the real relationships. My life was so normal back home. You know, there are no Katos in Memphis."

"How dumb can you be if you're that comical? Kato just can't manage to put a life together."