Jury Duty
If you have ever been called for jury duty, you soon learn that there are actually 2 trials. One concerns the charged defendant. The other one concerns you.
On Tuesday I appeared at the Court House with 111 other potential jurors for a very serious and sensitive trIal. I marched into the court room at about position #75 in line. The first 13 went into the jury box. The judge introduced the attorneys and the defendant who sat at the table with them. Then he read the 9 charges against the defendant and had the attorneys give the names and backgrounds of the witnesses they were going to call. The defense only had a few witnesses. They were primarily family members and close friends. The prosecution's witnesses were many and primarily law enforcement. Through a series of questions by the judge about the crime and witnesses, people were excused.
Then the defense attorney took the floor. He asked all jurors to present an oral autobiography about themselves based on specific topics. Depending on things an individual said, the judged dismissed more jurors.
Now the prosecution took over. She queried jurors about her own specific matters. More jurors were excused both from the box and the wider courtroom of jurors. As a juror left the box everyone moved one seat forward to take his place.
When the attorneys and judge were done weeding out as many jurors as they could by their questions, the judge asked the attorneys for challenges.
In a challenge, each attorney hands the judge one name at a time on a folded piece of paper of someone who is now in the box. The attorney wants that person excused. The attorney on either side senses that that person will not be helpful to their presentation of the evidence. No reason for this is given or has to be given. The challenge could be based on your facial reaction when the charges were read, or the oral autobiography you gave, or the 2 pages of answers to questions you wrote when you first came, or an answer you gave to all the previous interrogation in the courtroom. No one except the attorney will know why a juror is excused. You are told to not take it personally.
I was still not in the box. Through a series of submissions of names to the judge by the process of challenge, one by one certain jurors in the box were told to go home. Then I landed in the box. Front row. My goal now was to become the Jury Foreman.
During the time the D.A. was doing her part to cleanse the jury of any impurity, she asked this question, "Has anyone here ever had a bad experience with the police?"
I held up my hand. I was asked to explain. I told her about an unpleasant encounter I had once had with an angry and unreasonable policeman. She asked me if this had caused me to be prejudicial against the cops. I told her, "Of course not. Policemen are humans. Because they are in law enforcement doesn't make them any more just or fair or righteous than anyone else."
I was musing over my good fortune of having moved up about 75 places and was ready to hear and evaluate testimony, watch how real trial lawyers presented their case, and then sit in a room arguing with 12 angry men and women about the guilt or innocence of the accused. In addition, I was already planning out my presentation of the final verdict. How I would be the last one to enter the hall of justice carrying the equal-weighted scales of cold, blind truth seen through the impartial eyes of equity. When the judge asked the jury if they had reached a verdict, I would rise wearing the face of doom and gravitas and reply, "We have, your Honor," and hand our decision to the bailiff to be read by the judge. When the judged returned the verdict to my steady, icy hands and asked me to read the finding, this is when I would go into dramatic effect. Just as I had practiced it in front of a mirror all week long while being sequestered beyond the reach of the long arms of influence, I would slightly turn to the courtroom and defendant with a face that would be impenetrable to discerning an early decision before it was announced, and then intone, with a long pause, as if announcing the Academy Awards Best Picture of the Year - "The jury finds the defendant (long pause) . . ."
My reverie was suddenly broken when I heard the voice of authority from the bench of the Ninth Circuit Court say, "Mr. Cox, you are excused."
On Tuesday I appeared at the Court House with 111 other potential jurors for a very serious and sensitive trIal. I marched into the court room at about position #75 in line. The first 13 went into the jury box. The judge introduced the attorneys and the defendant who sat at the table with them. Then he read the 9 charges against the defendant and had the attorneys give the names and backgrounds of the witnesses they were going to call. The defense only had a few witnesses. They were primarily family members and close friends. The prosecution's witnesses were many and primarily law enforcement. Through a series of questions by the judge about the crime and witnesses, people were excused.
Then the defense attorney took the floor. He asked all jurors to present an oral autobiography about themselves based on specific topics. Depending on things an individual said, the judged dismissed more jurors.
Now the prosecution took over. She queried jurors about her own specific matters. More jurors were excused both from the box and the wider courtroom of jurors. As a juror left the box everyone moved one seat forward to take his place.
When the attorneys and judge were done weeding out as many jurors as they could by their questions, the judge asked the attorneys for challenges.
In a challenge, each attorney hands the judge one name at a time on a folded piece of paper of someone who is now in the box. The attorney wants that person excused. The attorney on either side senses that that person will not be helpful to their presentation of the evidence. No reason for this is given or has to be given. The challenge could be based on your facial reaction when the charges were read, or the oral autobiography you gave, or the 2 pages of answers to questions you wrote when you first came, or an answer you gave to all the previous interrogation in the courtroom. No one except the attorney will know why a juror is excused. You are told to not take it personally.
I was still not in the box. Through a series of submissions of names to the judge by the process of challenge, one by one certain jurors in the box were told to go home. Then I landed in the box. Front row. My goal now was to become the Jury Foreman.
During the time the D.A. was doing her part to cleanse the jury of any impurity, she asked this question, "Has anyone here ever had a bad experience with the police?"
I held up my hand. I was asked to explain. I told her about an unpleasant encounter I had once had with an angry and unreasonable policeman. She asked me if this had caused me to be prejudicial against the cops. I told her, "Of course not. Policemen are humans. Because they are in law enforcement doesn't make them any more just or fair or righteous than anyone else."
I was musing over my good fortune of having moved up about 75 places and was ready to hear and evaluate testimony, watch how real trial lawyers presented their case, and then sit in a room arguing with 12 angry men and women about the guilt or innocence of the accused. In addition, I was already planning out my presentation of the final verdict. How I would be the last one to enter the hall of justice carrying the equal-weighted scales of cold, blind truth seen through the impartial eyes of equity. When the judge asked the jury if they had reached a verdict, I would rise wearing the face of doom and gravitas and reply, "We have, your Honor," and hand our decision to the bailiff to be read by the judge. When the judged returned the verdict to my steady, icy hands and asked me to read the finding, this is when I would go into dramatic effect. Just as I had practiced it in front of a mirror all week long while being sequestered beyond the reach of the long arms of influence, I would slightly turn to the courtroom and defendant with a face that would be impenetrable to discerning an early decision before it was announced, and then intone, with a long pause, as if announcing the Academy Awards Best Picture of the Year - "The jury finds the defendant (long pause) . . ."
My reverie was suddenly broken when I heard the voice of authority from the bench of the Ninth Circuit Court say, "Mr. Cox, you are excused."