FROM SUMMONED TO SEATED
What Jurors Think Behind Their
Poker Faces
A Short Story
By
A Real Juror
“How did they find me so quickly?”
It was an unwelcome sight mixed in with the day’s junk mail. The
official summons for jury duty greeted me with its cold and official
typeface.
I had only been living in the area for a year. Somehow the
Federal court was in such need for jurors it had found me fast… but
how? I checked around with the neighbors. Apparently they
got me because I registered to vote.
Hummm… I try to be a good citizen by signing up to vote. Now I've
been saddled with additional jury duty responsibilities because I am a
good citizen. That’s not true for the irresponsible guy down the
street. He never registered to vote. He will never know the
discomfort of finding official government commands in his
mailbox. It's not fair, but I guess I can understand. I
wouldn't want that irresponsible guy on the jury if it was me that was
accused of a crime.
I opened the envelope with a sense of curiosity and dread. The
government wants me to call the courthouse every day for two weeks… and
show up on days when I’m needed. I can handle that. Wait,
the summons dates conflict with an important business trip.
Should I cancel the trip? After worrying about it for a couple of
days, I
talked with someone at work. They said that it's easy to get a
temporary excuse. All I had to do was write the court. I
did.
A week later I received an official letter stating that I had been
temporarily excused. I would be summonsed again sometime in the
future.
Three months passed. Then it happened again. Another
official summons. This time it conflicted with a long planned
vacation. Airline tickets had already been purchase. I had
been available for service during the last six weeks with no serious
conflict. The court kept selecting with dates that wouldn't work
for me. What’s worse was that I couldn’t tell the court when I’m
available. It’s a one way street. The court was simply
commanding me to appear on random
dates from its schedule. Lacking any other alternative, I turned
on
the computer and pulled up my old letter requesting excuse. I
modified it for the new dates and sent it in. A week later I was
excused again.
Like clockwork, three months passed and yet another summons
arrived. Luckily this time there were no serious conflicts.
Given my busy job, this was remarkable. I work in the news
media. We are not allowed to take any time off during sweeps
months (February, May, July and August of each year.) I must get
all of my business travel, vacations and holidays into the remaining
eight months of the year. Believe it or not, this is more
difficult than it sounds. This third jury duty assignment was
outside of sweeps and travel commitments. It was perfect.
This time I completed the questionnaire. The questions were easy
enough. In the remarks column I noted that I was a member
of the local news media. I felt this was only fair because most
attorneys aren’t fond of having press in the jury box. I heard
nothing
in response.
I put the jury duty dates on my calendar and kept the time open.
In the few weeks prior to jury duty, I began to see people’s reactions
to my being called. Most were understanding when I told them our
meetings were contingent on jury service. I explained time and
time again that I had to call in for a two week period. I may or
may not be called to serve… and that’s why I couldn’t be 100% sure I
could live up
to my appointments. Even though they understood, I could tell
most
co-workers were a little put off by this poorly defined
commitment. They couldn’t count on me to be there for them.
Worse, if I wasn’t at work the load would increase on them. It
made me a little uncomfortable.
I questioned how my boss felt. He was supportive, but I wondered
if somewhere he was thinking “So I might be without you while you sit
in court… that’s not what I pay you for.” I don’t blame
him. The company has hired me to do a job. It’s only
reasonable that they be able to count on me to do it. There are
laws that protect employment during jury service. However, there
is nothing to protect you from the loss of good will and perceived
status that goes with extended absences of any type.
After weeks of waiting, the jury duty phone-in period finally
arrived. I had to call in each day after 5:30pm. A
recording would tell me if I had to report the following morning.
I called in Friday at
5pm to see about Monday. The 5pm call would give me a little time
to tell co-workers whether I would be in on Monday. To my
surprise, the jury information was not available at 5pm. They had
a recording that said to call after 5:30pm. At 5:25pm the
information still wasn’t available. It became available at 5:30pm
on the dot, not a moment sooner. This was a taste of the
regimented and inconvenient treatment to come.
Jurors are called by sequential numbers. From the way the
juror numbers were being called on Monday and Tuesday, I guessed that
I would be called on Wednesday. Sure enough, I was. On
Tuesday
night I notified the folks at work that I would be out the next
day.
I printed directions to the courthouse off the Internet using Mapquest. I
estimated travel time and created a schedule for the morning.
The first thing I noticed about reporting for jury duty was that my
routine was shot. I got up at a different time. I had to
change carpool schedule for the kids. I wore different clothes
and drove a different route. It took me longer than I estimated
to get to the courthouse. Parking was hard to find. By the
time I reached the courthouse entrance, I was a little late and feeling
frazzled. I didn't realize how much a change in routine
might affect me.
There are several moments during jury service where you experience
ominous feelings. For me, the first ominous moment came as I
approached the courthouse building. It was dark, official and
ugly. There was a garage area, obviously modified to be a
prisoner drop off area. Armed guards stood watch.
Surveillance cameras were mounted on several places outside the
building. Large concrete planters were placed
near the courthouse entrance. The planters were a clumsy attempt
to
defend against explosive laden cars from crashing into the
building. Small windows could be seen on the building. They
were obviously for cells that imprisoned the accused. I wondered
if I would soon be judging someone held behind one of those windows.
I hurried into the building, already late from unanticipated traffic
and parking problems. There I was stopped by security. My
briefcase was searched. I walked through an airport-style metal
detector
that was set to its most sensitive. It went off because of the
small
nails used to hold my shoes together. A federal marshal then
asked
me to hold out my arms and ran a wand over me. There were several
armed officers in the security area. They were serious.
There
was no hint of personality or of the normal pleasantries. The
wait
for security made me five minutes later than I already was.
I reported to a place in the courthouse called the “jury assembly
room.” The furniture and wall coverings were a little nicer than
the rest of the courthouse. It gave you an idea that jurors were
important. A woman had begun roll call promptly at 8am.
Because I was now about ten minutes late, I took a seat in the back
amongst people who had yet to be called upon. She was asking for
summons numbers and names. As is the case throughout the
courthouse, your assigned number always takes precedence over your name.
Roll call made me feel like I was back in grade school. After it
was over, the woman asked if anyone wanted to be excused. Several
frazzled looking people scurried to the front to plead their
case. Most were excused, leaving a pool of willing but
concerned people for jury selection. My impression was that the
people asking for excuses were genuinely in need of them. I
expected that people would say anything to get out of service.
There were a couple of weenies, of course. However, for the most
part people seemed to take their jury duty responsibility seriously.
The woman handling the process continued with a brief
orientation. She seemed every bit the cliché government
worker in dress and demeanor. Orientation covered jury duty
basics, the order of a trail and some courthouse “housekeeping” items
(like where to find the restroom.) She said that most cases
lasted one to two days. She again asked if
there was anyone who couldn’t be here for the one or two
days. No one asked to be excused.
After orientation, suddenly a much more important man appeared on the
scene. No one knew who he was. He walked with
authority. He spoke in a deep and serious voice. He stated
that he had one
too many jurors. He asked if anyone else wanted to be
excused. After a pause, a young twenty something raised his hand
and shrugged “Sure, I’ll go.” He strolled to the front.
Then I overheard the man with authority remark “You’re lucky… this
one’s going to go a month.” I took his comment as a joke.
But I wondered.
Very quickly the man with authority began lining up people by
number. It was the first of many times jurors would be herded in
single-file line into the courtroom. Just like roll call, I felt
as though I was
back in grade school. In single file efficiency we worked our way
out of the jury assembly room, though the lifeless and sterile halls of
the courthouse. Two armed officers held open the double doors
leading into the courtroom. As we came through the doors,
everyone in the courtroom was looking at us. It was like we were
the football team taking the field for the big game.
I was immediately struck as we entered the courtroom. There were
several lawyers around both the defense and prosecution tables.
Boxes of documents could be seen around each table. Everyone was
dressed in their Sunday best. The judge had on his game
face. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I knew instinctively
this wasn’t a petty case.
We were meticulously directed to seats. The court officers where
sure to place each potential juror in the correct chair. They
had created a seating chart for the judge and the attorneys. The
chart would record the locations of people that would either be
weeded-out or selected to pass judgment.
The sizing-up began immediately. Lawyers were eyeballing jurors
like we were 4-H cattle at the county fair.
Another ominous feeling came over me as I surveyed the courtroom.
Everything was too serious. Everyone was paying too much
attention to us. Something big felt like it was about to
happen. That line from the Wizard of Oz came to mind: “We’re not
in Kansas anymore.”
Once we were seated the judge wasted no time. He didn’t miss a
beat as he launched into his introductory speech. He told us what
we were doing was important. He gave us a mini civics lesson
about the jury system and its important place in American
society. He
explained a little about what we would be expected to do. He said
that the case was very important to the community and to both
sides. Almost casually he mentioned that the case was to expected
to run 3 to
4 weeks.
Silence.
My stomach dropped. I could feel the unease of the other
jurors. Hadn’t they just said cases last 2 days during
orientation? Isn’t my summons just for a two week period?
They dropped this bombshell on us now that we were sitting in a
courtroom in front of a Federal judge. Suddenly I felt deceived
and angry. We were all squirming. Thoughts of work, family
and our real life responsibilities came to the forefront. How
could the government command us to give up our lives and
responsibilities for so long? I’ve never taken more than a week
of vacation. What would happen if I didn’t go to work for a month?
After the judge's speech, we were sworn in… to 'tell the truth the
truth and nothing but the truth' and so on. The judge announced
that he had prepared a two page questionnaire. This was the jury
selection phase of the trial. He gave each of us his
questionnaire. We would read and answer about 20 questions
aloud. We had to answer in open court. This was in place of
attorneys asking each of us questions directly.
The judge explained that the questioning process was called "Voir Dire",
an Anglo-French word that means "to speak the truth." The
questions were designed to see if you have any biases or conflicts of
interest that might affect your ability to judge fairly.
While the judge wanted to make sure we could be fair, the lawyers were
obviously looking to seat jurors that would favor their side.
Potential jurors could be dismissed for cause (if they were biased or
had a conflict of interest.) The lawyers could reject a certain
number of jurors for any reason (this was called preemptory
challenge.)
In short, if they didn’t like you for any reason, you were gone.
This seemed like the very definition of discrimination. I
wondered how
it was allowed in court proceedings.
A woman with red hair sat near the defense table. She seemed
particularly interested in the jury selection process. She was
taking notes faster than the others. That woman disappeared after
jury
selection and was never seen again. I’m sure she was a jury
consultant
hired by the defense. She used psychology, socioeconomic status,
geography, family background and experience to assess, rank and weed
out jurors who wouldn't be good for the defense.
As the questioning continued, I began to wonder if I should attempt the
throw the process. Surely I could come up with some kind of
excuse. Perhaps I could manufacture a response that would get me
out. While my company supports participation in jury duty, I know
they privately they wouldn't think much of losing me for a month.
I take my job very seriously. I’ve made a lot of sacrifices to
get
to where I am professionally. I worried about how a month's
absence
would affect how others perceived me and how it would affect my chances
for promotion. By law, the company could never hold jury duty
against
me. But those of us who live in the real world know how little it
takes to get on someone's bad side. One bad impression and you
may
suddenly find yourself looking for work.
I had been in court several times for duties related to my job.
Even so, I still felt somewhat intimidated by the process, the
strange courtroom environment and by the Federal judge seated just a
few yards away. It was a cold and formal environment. Even
I as I take my job seriously, I take jury duty seriously too. I
believe in the jury process and I’m glad to live in a country where
it’s
used. Perhaps if I was going to be a weenie, I should have
done it earlier in the day. I remember the twenty-something who
had
been excused because there were too many jurors. He was the
luckiest
guy town that day.
The jury selection process continued. I played it straight,
despite my temptation to do otherwise. I reminded myself that I
had been summonsed against my will. I was required by law to be
truthful and serve if chosen. Besides, I was sitting just feet
yards away
from a Federal judge.
Federal judges scare me. They are an incredibly bright
bunch. Mensa smart. But they have power unlike any
normal person would ever experience. We're you're in the
courtroom, you're playing in the judge's sandbox. Any hint of
decent from the judge's formal or implied ways will bring the wrath of
a god. I wasn’t about to get
crossways with this guy. Because of my responsibilities at work I
had previously experienced how Federal judges operate. My
instinct was telling me not to mess with a Federal judge.
Mensa smart means he’s see through my smokescreen
instantaneously. I was trapped. Besides, the law required
me to play it straight.
When it was my turn, I answered all of the questions truthfully.
I was upfront on questions about having family members in law
enforcement. I was also honest about my inability to honor jury
service in the event that a major breaking news story
happens. At the time, world news developments were such
that I almost certainly would be required to cover major news during
the course of the month long trial.
60 jurors were questioned that day. To our surprise, we learned
that another 60 juror had been questioned for the case on the previous
day. My chances of being assigned to the jury were 12 in
120… or 90% in favor of dismissal. I liked those odds.
After questions, several potential jurors were let go for conflicts of
interest or because serving for several weeks would present a genuine
hardship for them. I thought I might be dismissed at this point
because the court wouldn’t want to seat a spy for the media. The
remaining eligible candidates, including myself, were excused for lunch.
During lunch, the lawyers exercised their preemptory challenges.
They eliminated the people they thought would not favor their case.
Following lunch, the finalists from the previous day were gathered with
the finalists from my group. We gathered in the jury assembly
room. We were marched single file into the courtroom. It
was time of reckoning. Who amongst the 120 potential jurors would
make the final cut?
The names were read slowly. This allowed the chosen to be
meticulously seated in the jury box. To me, the reading of the
names was akin to the reading of a death sentence. Who would be
required to sit through an incredibly long trial and put their career
at
risk?
The first name was read. The second. The third. By
the time the judge reached the 7th name I was feeling marginally
confident. I thought the defense had probably exercised its
preemptory against me. It was only logical.
The eighth name was read. I think I was sweating. Then the
ninth.
Then I heard the words I didn’t want to hear. My name. I
would be juror number ten.
You might call it an out-of-body experience. At the moment my
name was called I got a pit in my stomach. I couldn’t believe it
was happening to me. I felt as though I was watching someone else
begrudgingly being herded into the jury box. It was 2pm. I
was about to start serving on a lengthy case. I couldn’t have
imaged this as I had pulled into the parking lot that morning.
The jury was seated.
Postscript: The jury heard a major Federal bank fraud case.
It was an interesting case in "the big picture." However,
mounds of paperwork and legal details were mind numbing. I lasted
about a month before a major news event required me to return to work.
The judge dismissed me and replaced me with an alternate. I
very much wanted to see the case through and deliberate.
This "unhappy ending" is not uncommon in jury service. The
majority of those summonsed for jury duty never see the end of the
case. Many potential jurors are never selected... or are placed
as an
"alternate" juror... or sit through a case only to see it "settled"
before
a verdict is rendered.
The process is interesting and educational, however it's
not about you. A juror is simply a numbered cog in the justice
machine. You're there to fulfill a role. As such, a juror
shouldn't feel bad if they don't get to deliberate and pass judgment.
Your participation in the process allows the machine to work.
***
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I'm an ordinary working person with a family. I have no
connection to the legal system whatsoever. I like to think that
I perceive the jury duty experience much as most regular people might.
The reason I wrote this story is simple-writing was therapy.
After several weeks of hearing this case I was going crazy.
I couldn't talk to others, my life was unsettled by the burden of
jury duty and work pressures were mounting. I wrote this story to
both illustrate the process and how someone might feel going through
it. I wanted the
narrative style to be both informative and enlightening. This was
in contrast to my strictly information based main page on jury duty,
which
you can see by clicking here.
Please feel
free
to be in touch with any questions, comments, additional information,
to request permission to use this material or to suggest a link. Click here for
contact information.
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