Column By Mike Bibb
“A federal judge in New York on Wednesday released a suicide note purportedly written by Jeffrey Epstein weeks before the convicted sex offender was found dead in his jail cell while awaiting trial on sex trafficking charges.”
— Newsmax, May 6, 2026.
The Jeffrey Epstein saga is a tale that keeps plodding along. Now, a handwritten note, supposedly composed by Epstein, has suddenly emerged, indicating he was possibly suicidal.
Officials have ruled that Jeff hung himself in his jail cell with bedsheets.
Others have doubted the story, citing questionable behavior by jail staff and faulty camera equipment: Jeff’s cellmate was removed earlier in the day; guards were asleep and failed to regularly check his status; and cameras — for some reason — were not working.
A trifecta of blunders.
Then, there’s the suspicion that numerous wealthy and influential individuals would benefit from Jeff’s demise. His several “pleasure palaces”, including one in central New Mexico, employed underage girls to tend to the requests of visiting patrons.
Hence, the various sex-trafficking allegations filed against Jeff. Epstein had been tried and convicted in Florida of similar charges in 2008.
Not certain the revelation of this “new evidence” really matters, other than he previously said he would not intentionally take his own life. Sensing, perhaps, suicide would be the official line if he were to be found dead in his cell.
His death is only one chapter in a life of continuing twists, turns, and fortuitous events. From academia to finance to government to hobnobbing with the rich and famous, Jeff seemed to have the Midas touch in whatever endeavor he pursued.
Until his world began imploding when victims of his unlawful escapades stepped forward, exposing the crime and corruption within his organizations.
Suddenly, Jeff didn’t have all the good buddies he thought he had. Even though he’d accumulated records, flight logs of his private jet used to shuttle friends and customers, and other evidence substantiating his association with politicians and big business executives who frequented his establishments.
“Jeff, who?” became a common response whenever his name was mentioned in certain discussions. “Oh, that Jeff. Yeah, I’ve heard of him, but I never had any dealings with the dude. They tell me he was kind of weird.”
A possible conversational suggestion, which could be advanced by his goofy, barely legible message — “They investigated for months — found nothing!!! It is a treat to be able to choose one’s time to say goodbye. Wacha want me to do — bust out cryin!! NO FUN — not worth it!!”
The note, reportedly, was found enclosed within the pages of a book by one of Jeff’s cellmates.
But did Epstein write it, or is it a fake scribbled memo written by someone else, designed to divert attention from other possible schemes that might have caused his death?
Epstein remarked that this same prisoner had tried to strangle him before, but didn’t succeed.
Predictably, the prisoner denied the accusation.
Which, to my thinking, questions the authenticity of the note obtained by the New York Times — over six years later.
Actually, the dubious nature of this particular incident further reflects the convoluted scenario of the entire Epstein account.
Born on Jan. 20, 1953, in Brooklyn, New York, taught math at a local university, employed by a financial company, appeared as Cosmopolitan magazine’s “bachelor of the month” in July 1980 issue, created his own business, became wealthy, convicted in 2008 of “soliciting a minor for prostitution” in Florida, served 13 of an 18 month sentence, reemerged to cavort with rich and influential people, purchased and managed several properties employing underaged girls in sex and prostitution, arrested July 6, 2019, and died Aug. 10, 2019, while in custody awaiting trial.
A swift downward spiral to its ultimate conclusion — 35 days from arrest to his death in a New York City jail.
Jeff ran the gauntlet between legal and non-legal activities. Much of it was promoted by his own boisterous and conniving ways and his obvious penchant for young girls. Who didn’t remain young forever, but grew up to realize they had been used and abused by a maniacal pervert — and girlfriend assistant — to further enrich his lifestyle while destroying theirs.
Jeffrey Epstein — a glorified, high-dollar pimp (among other things) — is buried in Palm Beach, Florida. He was 66. His accomplice, Ghisline Maxwell, remains in prison.
Jeff’s life was so despicable that his body was cremated, his ashes picked up by his brother, and tossed into an unmarked crypt without recognition, remorse, or explanation of his actions.
Almost, as if he never existed — except in court documents and witness testimony of the many lives he wrecked along the way.
The opinions expressed in this editorial are those of the author.
