Juror #75
For the first time in my life, I received a jury summons. I actually received the summons in March, but I decided to postpone it until late summer, when both of my jobs would be less hectic. Unlike most people, I was really excited by the summons. I watch several of the crime dramas on TV (actually I watch a ton of TV in general) and I was really curious to see how the court process really worked.
My (postponed) summons was for August 23-24th.
Wednesday morning, I made it to court just in time for sign-in. There were perhaps 100 jurors or so in the waiting room. By 8:30, a judge came in to greet all of us. Apparently the judges take turns doing a short “Welcome Orientation” for jurors. It was a nice touch, I thought.
So the welcoming judge is a jovial uncle type - very friendly and loquacious. He thanked us a few times and apologized for the tiny juror compensation. He also explained the general procedure for prospective jurors. He made a special effort to describe the time frames for court cases, since that is what most jurors ask him about. He told us that for a regular case he would ask for 35 jurors to be sent to his courtroom. For more sensitive or controversial cases, he would ask for 50 jurors or so. Jury selection can last for 1 day or maybe even up to a week. And court cases generally last about a week. For the more sensitive cases, potential jurors would be asked to fill out a “biographical form”.
After his speech we got to watch a video about jury duty. About 15-20 minutes after the video, the receptionist (for lack of a better term) announced over the PA system that the first 40 jurors would be called for Judge Darvus. I very anxiously and carefully listened for my name. There was a “Susan” called, but not me. So I went back to my brown belt Sudoku (which was kicking my ass). Then after another 15-20 minutes of waiting, the receptionist announces that Judge Darvus had actually asked for 85 jurors total and the 2nd group would be called shortly. Now when the receptionist said, “85 jurors”, there was an audible gasp in the room. We had just been told, not even an hour prior to this announcement, that 35 jurors would be an appropriate pool for most court cases. I could hear people speculating about why so many jurors were called. There was a lot of tension in the room. I did NOT want to be on this jury. When the 2nd group of prospective jurors for Judge Darvus was called out, my stomach was in knots while I carefully listened for my name. I was Juror #75.
The group of us made our way to the 4th floor and were greeted by a very friendly bailiff. She gave us big cards with our juror numbers on them and then led us into the courtroom and seated us sequentially. I noticed two things right away: the youth of the judge and the youth of the defendant. Judge Darvus welcomed us to her court and gave a general speech about jury duty and court process. I tried to pay attention as much as I could but I was just so curious about the case itself. Then she got down to business and read the charges:
1 count of murder in the first degree and
2 counts of attempted murder.
Wow – I really hit the jackpot. In all seriousness, I almost started crying when I heard the charges. Crying for myself, because there was a possibility that my life (which had been going so smoothly for so long) was about to seriously be disrupted, crying for the young defendant who’s future was perhaps in my hands and crying for the victims who demanded justice. We were then sworn in and our “voir-dire” started.
The judge asked use two questions pertaining to our inability to sit on this jury. Who had a medical hardship and who had plans to be out of town that they could not reschedule. We indicated by raising our cards. She wrote down all the numbers and then one by one, asked the prospective juror what their hardship was. I thought this was great, because people who were less than sincere were about to be called out. (I do want to point out here that we were always given the option of giving information in private). About half the people who raised their card had a good reason and the other half were kind of wishy-washy.
Then we were sent back downstairs to fill out our biographical information. These questions included: Where were you born? What is your race? Do you own a gun? Have you ever been the victim of a violent crime? Are you heard anything about this case? Do you want to be speak to the judge and counsel privately regarding why you can’t be on this jury?
I turned in my biographical information and about 30 minutes later we were called back into the courtroom. Several people were excused to go back into the unassigned jury pool. Several others were asked to stay and be “voir-dire’d” in private. The rest of us were excused. I took this opportunity to call both of my bosses and let them know the situation – that I may be on a jury for a month and how can we deal with this?
I was really nervous that I would be on this jury. I really wanted to perform my civic duties, but I didn’t want my life disrupted so brutally. I felt it may have been a karmic payback for the last 3 years which were relatively boring. I made such an enormous dent in my debt and paid it off! And now, it was possible that I would have to take an unpaid leave of absence to be in the jury of a murder trial! Just my luck.
So the next morning, I go in and wait to go up to the court room. Let me tell you, being on a jury is a lot like being in kindergarten. It’s a lot of waiting, a lot of repeating instructions and a lot of getting in single file lines and walking. Court procedure is so ritualized that it easily doubles the time of the actual case. At any case, we’re back in the courtroom and the entire jury pool goes through a general “voir-dire”. So the defense counsel and prosecuting attorneys take turns asking the entire assembled jury pool questions. We indicated that we wanted to answer by raising our jury number cards.
One early question was, “Is there any reason that you don’t want to be on the jury”. My card went right up. They asked us one by one, what those reasons were. I gave my spiel about working two jobs and not being able to take paid leave and my concerns over that. Since I had been practicing my reasons all night, I was pretty smooth. I did not necessarily get the feeling anyone particularly cared that I couldn’t afford to be on this jury. But one thing became startlingly clear to me as we were being “voir-dire’d”. The same people were always expressing their opinion – which effectively made me much more vocal. I realized that almost everyone expressing their (considerable) opinions would probably not make it on the jury.
And there was one question that I knew marked me for elimination. The defense counsel asked if anyone had seen or heard a trial where they disagreed with the verdict. No one raised their cards. No one. Come on! After O.J. was acquitted, it seemed no one could shut up. I was kind of disgusted by this. So I raised my card. And I said something to the effect that I disagreed with the original verdict for the Rodney King trial (I realize that this was not actually Rodney King’s trial – but you KNOW what I’m talking about). So the defense asked me if I carefully followed the trial and why did I not like the verdict. And I pop out with, “I didn’t follow the trial at all. I saw the tapes and I didn’t think justice was served.”
I should point out here that despite the defendant being black and his counsel being black, I could tell by the look on their face that they’d never let me on the jury. I made a determination of guilt on the Rodney King case, seeing one damning piece of evidence and without hearing one word of witness testimony.
My comment did prompt some cards going in the air. The next man to speak talked about the O.J. trial. He prefaced his story with ‘Well, on the other side of the coin…” He made it very clear that he followed the case very closely and that although O.J. may not have been guilty, he felt that O.J. was definitely not innocent. I only speak of this because his opening remarks struck me as slightly racist. Not “I hate all minorities” racist, but more like, “I like black people as long as they don’t date my daughter” racist. Many people felt those cops were guilty and were upset when they were acquitted. And many people felt that O.J. was guilty and were upset when he was acquitted. That is actually the SAME side of the damn coin. I rest my case.
Since this story is so freaking long, I’ll end it on these notes: The jury was accepted at Juror #46 – so I didn’t even get close.
And the verdict was guilty.
- Susan in Seattle
My (postponed) summons was for August 23-24th.
Wednesday morning, I made it to court just in time for sign-in. There were perhaps 100 jurors or so in the waiting room. By 8:30, a judge came in to greet all of us. Apparently the judges take turns doing a short “Welcome Orientation” for jurors. It was a nice touch, I thought.
So the welcoming judge is a jovial uncle type - very friendly and loquacious. He thanked us a few times and apologized for the tiny juror compensation. He also explained the general procedure for prospective jurors. He made a special effort to describe the time frames for court cases, since that is what most jurors ask him about. He told us that for a regular case he would ask for 35 jurors to be sent to his courtroom. For more sensitive or controversial cases, he would ask for 50 jurors or so. Jury selection can last for 1 day or maybe even up to a week. And court cases generally last about a week. For the more sensitive cases, potential jurors would be asked to fill out a “biographical form”.
After his speech we got to watch a video about jury duty. About 15-20 minutes after the video, the receptionist (for lack of a better term) announced over the PA system that the first 40 jurors would be called for Judge Darvus. I very anxiously and carefully listened for my name. There was a “Susan” called, but not me. So I went back to my brown belt Sudoku (which was kicking my ass). Then after another 15-20 minutes of waiting, the receptionist announces that Judge Darvus had actually asked for 85 jurors total and the 2nd group would be called shortly. Now when the receptionist said, “85 jurors”, there was an audible gasp in the room. We had just been told, not even an hour prior to this announcement, that 35 jurors would be an appropriate pool for most court cases. I could hear people speculating about why so many jurors were called. There was a lot of tension in the room. I did NOT want to be on this jury. When the 2nd group of prospective jurors for Judge Darvus was called out, my stomach was in knots while I carefully listened for my name. I was Juror #75.
The group of us made our way to the 4th floor and were greeted by a very friendly bailiff. She gave us big cards with our juror numbers on them and then led us into the courtroom and seated us sequentially. I noticed two things right away: the youth of the judge and the youth of the defendant. Judge Darvus welcomed us to her court and gave a general speech about jury duty and court process. I tried to pay attention as much as I could but I was just so curious about the case itself. Then she got down to business and read the charges:
1 count of murder in the first degree and
2 counts of attempted murder.
Wow – I really hit the jackpot. In all seriousness, I almost started crying when I heard the charges. Crying for myself, because there was a possibility that my life (which had been going so smoothly for so long) was about to seriously be disrupted, crying for the young defendant who’s future was perhaps in my hands and crying for the victims who demanded justice. We were then sworn in and our “voir-dire” started.
The judge asked use two questions pertaining to our inability to sit on this jury. Who had a medical hardship and who had plans to be out of town that they could not reschedule. We indicated by raising our cards. She wrote down all the numbers and then one by one, asked the prospective juror what their hardship was. I thought this was great, because people who were less than sincere were about to be called out. (I do want to point out here that we were always given the option of giving information in private). About half the people who raised their card had a good reason and the other half were kind of wishy-washy.
Then we were sent back downstairs to fill out our biographical information. These questions included: Where were you born? What is your race? Do you own a gun? Have you ever been the victim of a violent crime? Are you heard anything about this case? Do you want to be speak to the judge and counsel privately regarding why you can’t be on this jury?
I turned in my biographical information and about 30 minutes later we were called back into the courtroom. Several people were excused to go back into the unassigned jury pool. Several others were asked to stay and be “voir-dire’d” in private. The rest of us were excused. I took this opportunity to call both of my bosses and let them know the situation – that I may be on a jury for a month and how can we deal with this?
I was really nervous that I would be on this jury. I really wanted to perform my civic duties, but I didn’t want my life disrupted so brutally. I felt it may have been a karmic payback for the last 3 years which were relatively boring. I made such an enormous dent in my debt and paid it off! And now, it was possible that I would have to take an unpaid leave of absence to be in the jury of a murder trial! Just my luck.
So the next morning, I go in and wait to go up to the court room. Let me tell you, being on a jury is a lot like being in kindergarten. It’s a lot of waiting, a lot of repeating instructions and a lot of getting in single file lines and walking. Court procedure is so ritualized that it easily doubles the time of the actual case. At any case, we’re back in the courtroom and the entire jury pool goes through a general “voir-dire”. So the defense counsel and prosecuting attorneys take turns asking the entire assembled jury pool questions. We indicated that we wanted to answer by raising our jury number cards.
One early question was, “Is there any reason that you don’t want to be on the jury”. My card went right up. They asked us one by one, what those reasons were. I gave my spiel about working two jobs and not being able to take paid leave and my concerns over that. Since I had been practicing my reasons all night, I was pretty smooth. I did not necessarily get the feeling anyone particularly cared that I couldn’t afford to be on this jury. But one thing became startlingly clear to me as we were being “voir-dire’d”. The same people were always expressing their opinion – which effectively made me much more vocal. I realized that almost everyone expressing their (considerable) opinions would probably not make it on the jury.
And there was one question that I knew marked me for elimination. The defense counsel asked if anyone had seen or heard a trial where they disagreed with the verdict. No one raised their cards. No one. Come on! After O.J. was acquitted, it seemed no one could shut up. I was kind of disgusted by this. So I raised my card. And I said something to the effect that I disagreed with the original verdict for the Rodney King trial (I realize that this was not actually Rodney King’s trial – but you KNOW what I’m talking about). So the defense asked me if I carefully followed the trial and why did I not like the verdict. And I pop out with, “I didn’t follow the trial at all. I saw the tapes and I didn’t think justice was served.”
I should point out here that despite the defendant being black and his counsel being black, I could tell by the look on their face that they’d never let me on the jury. I made a determination of guilt on the Rodney King case, seeing one damning piece of evidence and without hearing one word of witness testimony.
My comment did prompt some cards going in the air. The next man to speak talked about the O.J. trial. He prefaced his story with ‘Well, on the other side of the coin…” He made it very clear that he followed the case very closely and that although O.J. may not have been guilty, he felt that O.J. was definitely not innocent. I only speak of this because his opening remarks struck me as slightly racist. Not “I hate all minorities” racist, but more like, “I like black people as long as they don’t date my daughter” racist. Many people felt those cops were guilty and were upset when they were acquitted. And many people felt that O.J. was guilty and were upset when he was acquitted. That is actually the SAME side of the damn coin. I rest my case.
Since this story is so freaking long, I’ll end it on these notes: The jury was accepted at Juror #46 – so I didn’t even get close.
And the verdict was guilty.
- Susan in Seattle
posted by Susan at 6:12 PM
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