Last fall, I had a special opportunity presented to me. I was selected as a juror for a criminal trial in state court.
I say “special” because though most citizens have had the experience of receiving a jury summons, many fewer actually get selected for a panel to hear a case, and far fewer still of those selected are practicing attorneys.
Of those attorneys who are actually picked to try a case, an even smaller pool consists of litigators or trial lawyers, my occupation. So here’s my story …
I arrived at the Duval County Court Annex about 15 minutes early. Being a day that I did not have to make a court appearance myself, I wore a pair of dress slacks, blue pinpoint shirt and a blazer, no tie… more on my attire later.
I was greeted by the Clerk of Court’s staff, signed in and asked to take a seat in an overflow room with closed-circuit television broadcasting from the main room.
At the appointed time, the deputy clerk took the podium and addressed those assembled. After a brief explanation of the jury selection process and an outlook on the specific number of jurors needed based on the trial schedule for the week, the deputy clerk began calling juror badge numbers for the first set of venires.
My number was ultimately called about midmorning and I was asked to return to the annex at 12:30 to be led over to Judge Russell Healey’s courtroom (who was sitting in for a felony trial in former Judge Morrow’s court).
At 12:30, a group of 20 of us were escorted over to the courthouse and assembled outside of the courtroom. I was 10th in line (and to be seated as the 10th venireman).
As we began to file into the courtroom, and just as I came into view of Judge Healey, he stopped the proceedings and addressed the venire. He spoke about the importance of the proceeding, respect due the Court and his dissatisfaction with unacceptable attire of certain members of the venire. The fact that I did not have a tie on and the timing of the Court’s comments was not lost on me.
That said, as I looked around, and in particularly at the guy in front of me with his jogging pants halfway down his backside, I realized that maybe I wasn’t the intended target of the admonishment. At least that is what I want to believe. Ultimately, the comments were well timed, as the Court now had everyone’s full attention.
The ice already having been broken, the Court then provided a more detailed description of the jury selection process and then allowed the lawyers for each side to question the potential jurors.
The case involved an alleged capital sexual battery on a person over 12 years of age. Except for my location in the heart of the venire, I thought there was little chance of the attorneys allowing me to end up on the panel. In truth, I was given the opportunity, in the form of a direct question from the public defender, to ensure my “de-selection” as a juror for this case.
Before I address the “question,” you have to recognize there are distinct types of questions posed to potential jurors. There are direct open-ended questions offered to encourage a person to open up and talk about themselves or their life experiences. For instance, “Mr. X, you indicated earlier that you have been involved in a lawsuit as a result of a car accident. Tell me about that experience?”
Alternatively, there are educational questions that are posed generally to the entire venire, for example: “Do you all understand that just because the state has arrested someone and charged them with a crime that they remain innocent until the state has proven beyond a reasonable doubt that the person is guilty of the crime?”
In my case, the public defender asked, “You all know of circumstances where someone has exaggerated a story in order to justify their actions or in order to make someone feel sorry for them, don’t you?”
In response to this question I smiled broadly, thinking of my children and a dispute my wife and I were forced to resolve that very morning where one of my children had clearly embellished certain events in order to gain sympathy from my wife and me for his actions.
The public defender quickly picked up on my reaction and asked me what I was thinking. In response, I explained my personal experience with my children. I remain convinced that this vignette, which played into the defense’s theory of the case, resulted in my retention as a juror for this case.
Seven of us were selected to sit for the trial, six jurors and an alternate. We were asked to return the next morning at 8:45 for the commencement of trial. The jury included a cross
section of the community, ethnically diverse, men and women with ages from mid-20s to 60s.
The next morning, only six of us showed up, one juror purportedly having fallen seriously ill. The advantage of having selected an alternate being obvious to all, opening statements then commenced.
The trial took two days; eight witnesses, including the defendant, took the stand. I took copious notes and made a significant list of questions based on the evidence presented.
After jury instructions were read, the jury was led to the deliberation room where we were instructed to select a foreperson before beginning any deliberations. The group asked me to act as foreperson, even with my acknowledgment that I had never been on “this side” of the deliberations door.
Not knowing any other way to start the process, I invited each juror to, in turn, make any comments they had about the proceedings and to raise any questions in their mind. I intended to make my comments and raise my questions last.
By the time it was my turn to speak, not only had all of my questions been raised, but other interesting issues beyond those in my notes had been
discussed.
Deliberations lasted approximately two hours. We walked through the evidence and how it applied to the charges and the potential lesser included offenses. We found the defendant not guilty.
Keep in mind that “not guilty” is not the same as “innocent.” This concept was not lost on my fellow jurors. All of the jurors had questions about the character of the defendant and his acknowledged criminal history. Ultimately, however, the victim’s story was not credible and there was little to no physical evidence to support the charges.
I have heard a number of people speak on the virtues of our system and how special it is in comparison to other world alternatives. I have repeated some of this commentary to students and my own family when speaking
to them about our legal
system.
I left my service on the jury, however, with a new perspective on the citizen-jury … a real life perspective. The care with which my fellow jurors handled this case and their concerted effort to “follow the law” was remarkable.
They had no legal training, but they listened to Judge Healey’s instructions, asked critical questions about testimony in the case and, in the end, reached the only decision allowed by the law under the circumstances.
I do not write this article to say juries always get it right. Juries are made up of people, and people can and do make mistakes. However, with my recent experience as a guide, I am confident that there is not a better system.
Every day thousands of conscientious citizen-jurors across this country take time out of their lives to help make sure that we remain a government of the people. That is truly special and a reason we all have to be proud to be American.