Oh
Boy! Jury Duty!!
I didn’t want to do it. I
really, really didn’t want to go. I knew I had to; it was my duty, my
obligation. A simple thing, really, in a country where we have the right to
trial and should appreciate it. But I still didn’t want to go.
I went. Of course. I didn’t
have a choice but even so, it was the right thing to do. Honestly, I haven’t
had to do much jury duty at all, ever. It seemed so ‘inconvenient’ but really,
wouldn’t I want someone to show up if I was in a position to need a jury?
I can remember, in the small
town where I grew up in Texas, at the time I was asked to serve, I simply
showed up at the courthouse, was ushered into the courtroom, and asked
questions. I didn’t have to serve then and have only been called less than a
handful of times, and I’ve never had to serve on a jury. Out here in Orange
County, California, you are dealing with a numbers game in a situation like
this. It isn’t just 30 of us being called into service- it’s about 150-200 or
so, maybe more. A huge room, full of us, none of us wanting to be there. You
can feel it.
I left the house at 6:30
a.m. so I could be officially checked in by 7:45 a.m. Yup. Crack of
dawn-thirty. I had to drive only 20 miles to get to the county courthouse in
Santa Ana, California, but I had to drive one of the major artery freeways to
get there. Plus, there’s the length of the check-in line after you get there.
The freeway was already busy, but at least it was moving. I got to the parking
garage and walked about ¼ mile to the courthouse (parking is not onsite). I was
in the check-in line by 7:15 a.m., and there were already about 15 or so people
that had made it before me.
This is California. Land of
casual, ‘we’re always late because of traffic’ excuses. I’m sitting there,
thinking to myself, some more people better show up or I’m going to be serving
on every case on the docket! And sure enough, starting about 7:35, here comes
the crowd. The room swelled from around 20 of us to over 100 in 10 minutes. I
was glad I’d avoided the line just by being 20 minutes earlier. More continued
to show up for the next hour. The room went from almost empty to packed.
The clerks in this area do a
very good job. There are good signs directing you where to go (although finding
a way into the courthouse isn’t as visible; I had to ask where to go). They
are friendly, and they are certainly aware that none of us were joyfully
skipping up to their window to check in. They even had a sense of humor, rare
in government employees (really! how many people smile at you at the DMV?)
Still, in spite of signs and recorded announcements, people tend to follow the
person in front of them. I could have bought hubby and me a nice dinner if I’d
bet a quarter for every time the clerks had to remind people which line to get
in (there were 2, one for check-in, one for questions/excusings.).
I love to watch people. This
was the most interesting and diverse grouping of people I’ve seen in a long
time (since I was last in Vegas!). That’s just what you want though, right? Lots
of interesting viewpoints, I’m sure. It’s interesting to see how they dress for
this occasion. Since it is Orange County, which is heavily influenced by Los
Angeles, dress anywhere you go can be from extremely formal to extremely
casual. Seriously, in some places, we’re just happy people put on shirts AND
pants! Most of us were pretty casually dressed, but there were a few, um,
fashion statements, wandering around. I just kept thinking to myself: a jury
pool is no pool where I want to go swimming! Just kidding! People were
well-behaved (of course, the jail is right across the street), polite, quiet, and
bored.
It was also interesting to
see how people prepared for the day. Some people had their briefcases, their
laptops/notebooks/etcetera. I had a huge purse with my paperwork for the jury
call, a book, and a lunch. One lady had all of her stuff organized in a manila
file. Some people had their paperwork wadded up like trash. Some people, of
course, didn’t have their paperwork. J
Speaking of bored, what is
it with some people??? When I received my notice with the date for appearance,
the first thing I did was scan my bookshelves for a book that was small enough
to fit in my purse. Most of us had books, Kindles, cell phones, etcetera for
some form of entertainment during the waiting process, but there were more than
I expected that simply slumped down in their chairs and looked angry and bored.
What’s up with that? You know you’re going to be there for at least a couple of
hours till maybe later in the afternoon; how can you not bring something to look
at? I even packed a PB&J and some snacks (and I’m glad I did!).
After about a 2-hour wait,
the first wave of us was called in. For some reason, the song ‘Send in the
Clowns’ came to my mind but then, my mind tends to work in mysterious ways (even
to me!). We were given instructions on which courtroom to go to, told to grab a
potty break, and then we headed to the elevators to make our way upstairs. More
waiting. We were assigned numbers so no one would know our names, but they
called out our names in order to assign the numbers. Go figure. I didn’t see anyone
taking notes though, so I guess that’s a good system. J
We were warned, warned again,
and, as the officer himself said, begged, to turn our cell phones off.
Apparently, the judge we were getting to meet was very strict and had been
known to confiscate cell phones, which were then taken over to the sheriff’s
office (we don’t have police, we have sheriffs out here in Orange County), and
put in as evidence. I cut my phone off and hid it inside my purse. I wasn’t
taking any chances! I wasn’t unhappy; I was glad to see that a strict precedent
was being set. No foolishness allowed in here!
We were told it would be a
10-day trial. More joy went through the crowd. What were we in for? It was a
criminal case, and one I’m glad I was excused from- molestation, sexual
violation. Of minors. Chilling, just chilling. I was sitting there thinking, ‘I
can’t do this’ when the judge spoke, and asked if any of us had ever been
victims or had a close relative be a victim of a sex crime, reported or not.
Sadly, I answered yes.
When the judge asked that
question, I realized I was going through a series of small shocks. The shock of
a 10-day trial (I was back to not wanting to be there). The shock of the crime.
The PTSD shock of flashbacks for me. The shock of looking at our group of
prospective jurors, and seeing how many raised their hands as a ‘yes’ in answer
to the judge’s question (how sad). The somewhat embarrassed shock of having to
say publicly, in front of strangers, ‘yes sir’ and when asked my relation to
the victim, having to say ‘myself’. It’s not something I talk about, much less
admit to strangers.
And just like that, my day
there was done. It seems ironic that something so horrific proved to be the way
out. The lawyers did the right thing, excusing me. I was sitting there,
thinking/wondering if I could sit on this jury before the judge asked that
question. And no, I couldn’t do it. Try as I might to be fair and impartial, I was
biased. I could not hear the facts of this case and give the defendant the
fairness deserved. I realized that what had happened to me still affected me,
and it would be hard for me not to be the victim again. In this way, the system
worked. I hope the defendant gets jurors who can be fair and impartial; that’s
the way it should be.
While I write this with a
bit of tongue in cheek humor, I am impressed with our judicial system. I am not
that familiar with other countries and their court systems, but what little I have
seen on the news or read about tells me that while our system certainly is not
perfect, it is good. It is an interesting machine that gets the job done in as
fair a manner as I suppose it can be done. The burden of holding an innocent or
guilty verdict in your hands is not something to be taken lightly, and that may
be why so many of us don’t want to serve. It does take up our time and that’s
not much fun but maybe that’s just the excuse. Maybe most of us don’t want the
responsibility of making the wrong decision. There are too many what ifs. What
if the facts are not presented properly? What is being left out? What if the
prosecuting attorney has a better speaking/flair/presentation than the
defending attorney or vice versa? So many nuances and possibilities to affect
the final outcome. We all know about the mistakes where a person is sent to
prison for a crime he or she did not commit; I would not feel too good about
myself if I ended up doing that, even though it may be due to the facts I was
presented at the time. The responsibility is a big one.
I’d sent my husband a text
while I was waiting early this morning, telling him not one person in that room
looked like they had any confidence in being there and that I wasn’t sure I wanted
them on my trial. I was being silly, of course. I know for a fact I didn’t look
any more confident than anyone else. We were probably all feeling that burden
of responsibility, and I was just being flippant. Believe me; I sobered up
quickly in the courtroom. Jury duty is our civic duty, and it needs to be taken
seriously. I believe everyone that was in that room with me was willing and
able to do the best they could with whatever information they would be given. Lest
my patriotism be questioned, I would and will do it again when called. And I
have a year to reflect on it!
