Gentleman not of the jury.
I am done with my jury duty for this go-around, and that's fine with me
I had to go Monday, and I sat around until 11:00 am, when they released me on the condition I call in Tuesday night when I called in they wanted me to show up at the courthouse at 8:39 this morning.
Today was more nothing until 10:00 am, when they called me and 30-some others to stand in line to be interviewed for a trial: "voir dire," as they call it. After getting us all lined up in the big open area outside the courthouse, they walked us in. In a nice touch, the judge, the lawyers and the defendant remained standing until were all seated.
The prosecuting attorney started out, telling us they were picking a jury for a vehicular homicide trial. The defendant was accused of killing a guy in a vehicle accident while drunk. The defendant looked like he was in his 60s, and he had an oxygen tank. Real or clever prop, I have no idea, but he looked like he might need it.
The prosecutor interviewed all of the jurors in front of everyone else. One mope got himself dismissed quickly by claiming to be an anarchist, but he was too dumb to be there anyway. I only suspected one or two folks of being theatrically anti-drunk-driving to get off the panel. The prosecutor asked a lot of questions of the first ten or so panelists, but he only had a couple of yes-or-no questions for me (I was #14).
Every dismissed potential juror was replaced by another person from the waiting room. The prosecutor was done after about an hour. The defense barely got started before the judge called a lunch break at about noon.
While the prosecutor was a 30-something man, slightly overweight but prematurely graying but impeccably dressed and coiffed, the defense attorney was a 50-something woman who made me think of Roz in Monsters Inc., but was much more friendly. She really made sure everyone understood that it was up to the prosecution to prove guilt, not to the defendant to disprove it. She asked a panelist sitting behind me why the burden was on the prosecution. He gave an impressive answer, so I turned around to see which panelist had given it. False move.
She said that she was interested in what I thought, since I turned around. Then she started into a little speech and just looked at me expectantly when she was done. Maybe I was supposed to start babbling like athletes do when asked questions like "how big was that win?," but I really had no idea what I was supposed to respond to, so I just asked "What?" Then she asked if I agreed with the guy behind me. I said yes. She asked why. I said because the state has a big advantage against a defendant. With a full-time experienced prosecutor and the might of the state police apparatus against a lone defendant, it's not a fair fight, and the state should have the responsibility of proof if they want to put someone in jail.
That seemed good enough for her, and that was the last of my role. It was another hour or so before she was done.
Then they did something that was new to me. The judge had a list of all the potential jurors. He told the prosecutor and the defense attorney they could each knock six names off the list, plus one or two of the ones brought in to replace excused panelists. The two lawyers took turns knocking names off the list, passing it back and forth. Finally the "strikes" were done, and the list went back to the judge. Then the judge read 13 names off the list -- 12 jurors and an alternate -- and told the rest of us thanks, you are done.
I'm still a bit puzzled by the numbers -- I don't think the two lawyers had enough strikes to get it down to 13, so I don't know how they chose the final 13. Still, I'm fine with not being on the jury. I'm glad I'm not the defendant; the attorney questions made me think the defense will concede he had been drinking before killing somebody in an accident, but will say that other evidence will show that there were extenuating circumstances that show he didn't commit the crime of vehicular homicide. That may be a tough case to make.
Even so, I didn't relish the idea of deciding guilt or innocence. I am willing to do so; if, God forbid, I'm ever in the defendant's chair, I'll want people there who are willing to take it seriously, rather than leave it to people who stopped watching Montel when it got too intellectual. Yet I'd have a hard time living with either the suspicion I jailed an innocent man or let a killer off the hook.
I'm glad there are people who want to put bad guys away, I'm glad there are people who will do criminal defense, and I'm glad they seem to take the process seriously. But I'm content to let somebody else show up for the next jury call.
I had to go Monday, and I sat around until 11:00 am, when they released me on the condition I call in Tuesday night when I called in they wanted me to show up at the courthouse at 8:39 this morning.
Today was more nothing until 10:00 am, when they called me and 30-some others to stand in line to be interviewed for a trial: "voir dire," as they call it. After getting us all lined up in the big open area outside the courthouse, they walked us in. In a nice touch, the judge, the lawyers and the defendant remained standing until were all seated.
The prosecuting attorney started out, telling us they were picking a jury for a vehicular homicide trial. The defendant was accused of killing a guy in a vehicle accident while drunk. The defendant looked like he was in his 60s, and he had an oxygen tank. Real or clever prop, I have no idea, but he looked like he might need it.
The prosecutor interviewed all of the jurors in front of everyone else. One mope got himself dismissed quickly by claiming to be an anarchist, but he was too dumb to be there anyway. I only suspected one or two folks of being theatrically anti-drunk-driving to get off the panel. The prosecutor asked a lot of questions of the first ten or so panelists, but he only had a couple of yes-or-no questions for me (I was #14).
Every dismissed potential juror was replaced by another person from the waiting room. The prosecutor was done after about an hour. The defense barely got started before the judge called a lunch break at about noon.
While the prosecutor was a 30-something man, slightly overweight but prematurely graying but impeccably dressed and coiffed, the defense attorney was a 50-something woman who made me think of Roz in Monsters Inc., but was much more friendly. She really made sure everyone understood that it was up to the prosecution to prove guilt, not to the defendant to disprove it. She asked a panelist sitting behind me why the burden was on the prosecution. He gave an impressive answer, so I turned around to see which panelist had given it. False move.
She said that she was interested in what I thought, since I turned around. Then she started into a little speech and just looked at me expectantly when she was done. Maybe I was supposed to start babbling like athletes do when asked questions like "how big was that win?," but I really had no idea what I was supposed to respond to, so I just asked "What?" Then she asked if I agreed with the guy behind me. I said yes. She asked why. I said because the state has a big advantage against a defendant. With a full-time experienced prosecutor and the might of the state police apparatus against a lone defendant, it's not a fair fight, and the state should have the responsibility of proof if they want to put someone in jail.
That seemed good enough for her, and that was the last of my role. It was another hour or so before she was done.
Then they did something that was new to me. The judge had a list of all the potential jurors. He told the prosecutor and the defense attorney they could each knock six names off the list, plus one or two of the ones brought in to replace excused panelists. The two lawyers took turns knocking names off the list, passing it back and forth. Finally the "strikes" were done, and the list went back to the judge. Then the judge read 13 names off the list -- 12 jurors and an alternate -- and told the rest of us thanks, you are done.
I'm still a bit puzzled by the numbers -- I don't think the two lawyers had enough strikes to get it down to 13, so I don't know how they chose the final 13. Still, I'm fine with not being on the jury. I'm glad I'm not the defendant; the attorney questions made me think the defense will concede he had been drinking before killing somebody in an accident, but will say that other evidence will show that there were extenuating circumstances that show he didn't commit the crime of vehicular homicide. That may be a tough case to make.
Even so, I didn't relish the idea of deciding guilt or innocence. I am willing to do so; if, God forbid, I'm ever in the defendant's chair, I'll want people there who are willing to take it seriously, rather than leave it to people who stopped watching Montel when it got too intellectual. Yet I'd have a hard time living with either the suspicion I jailed an innocent man or let a killer off the hook.
I'm glad there are people who want to put bad guys away, I'm glad there are people who will do criminal defense, and I'm glad they seem to take the process seriously. But I'm content to let somebody else show up for the next jury call.
posted by Joe at 9:44 PM
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