A continuation of Law & Order It Was Not part 1 and part 2.

The jury box was awesome. The seats were like extra cushiony Captain Kirk chairs, and just like his, they swiveled, too. Not like Law & Order at all. We were allowed to sit wherever, there was no assignment, and then the judge had us take an oath. We were sent to the jury room through a side door shortly after, which was located off the long corridor behind the courtroom.

Once we entered what seemed like a tiny room for twelve individuals, we each took a seat along the wall or at the table and began to size one another up, as you do. Nobody said much as we waited for directions. The bailiff eventually entered in and gave us our juror credentials that were meant to be worn at all times so attorneys and clients would be sure not to engage with us outside of the courtroom.  We all thought we’d be dismissed for the day so the trial could begin on Tuesday, but not ten minutes later they had us back in the jury box listening to opening statements. It was awesome.

The opening statements were definitely not as impassioned as Jack McCoy’s (for the record, the closing arguments weren’t either). After the opening statements, the plaintiff took the stand. I won’t go into all of the details of the case, because though I found every little detail of it ridiculously interesting, you likely will not. Probably one of those “had to be there” moments, so I’ll offer a quick gist.

Essentially there was a car accident in 2013 less than two miles from my house. The defendant was cited for it by the officer that appeared after the scene and the plaintiff was looking for money from the defendant to pay for her chiropractic bills, some MRIs, a few other medical related items and for pain and suffering. The judge even admitted he was hoping to have us out of there by Tuesday afternoon because it should be a pretty quick case.

By the end of the day on Monday we had heard the majority of the plaintiff’s testimony and were dismissed a bit early because the judge had an appointment for his broken leg across the street. We headed back to the jury room to get our things and had already been instructed by the judge not to discuss the case with anyone, not even other members of the jury.

I will say this about the first day – after the prosecutor finished with the plaintiff, it was slowly getting hard to believe just about anything that emerged from the plaintiff’s mouth. She discredited herself repeatedly. By the time the defense attorney stepped up to the plate, it was seemingly all over because though the attorney didn’t get to finish by the time we had to break, she was a firecracker who knew her stuff, and she went line item by line item poking holes in everything the plaintiff had declared on the stand.  I was waiting for the call that there would be no need to come in on Tuesday morning because they’d settled outside of court. If I was the plaintiff, that’s what I would have tried desperately to do. Found out Tuesday morning in the jury room, that EVERYONE thought the same thing.

We were nine women and three men. It was a very culturally and racially diverse bunch that had been culled from a predominantly white suburban county. I was pretty impressed actually. I felt like it represented our American  Melting Pot pretty well. Maybe another guy or two could have evened things out, but both the defendant and the plaintiff were women so no surprise there.

Since the jury wasn’t allowed to discuss the case, and we had a lot of waiting to do at different times throughout the day, we bonded over television, movies, celebrity gossip and popular culture. These were my kind of people. We looked up images and facts of certain celebs, putting together timelines, trying to determine if plastic surgery rumors were true. We tried to deduce where certain shows or movies had been filmed based off of certain shots without using IMDb. We even analyzed the oversaturation of the superhero market to figure out when it will hit full saturation. I mean once you’re put on the Perry Mason path, it’s kind of hard to deviate. We sleuthed everything we could while in our holding patterns. Everyone was genuinely nice and got along like aces.

We heard more testimony on Tuesday. We heard from the officer who had written the citation. We heard from the plaintiff’s husband and from the defendant, too.  Once that was all said and done, it was time for closing arguments. Like I said before, not quite as impassioned as Mr. McCoy, but a power point presentation and an emphasis on the law were perfectly acceptable closings for what they were.

We were charged by the judge to determine who was at fault, at what percentage they were at fault, and how much money should be awarded, if any, to the plaintiff. And if the plaintiff was found 50% or more at fault, no money could be awarded at all.  After the charge, we were sent back to the jury room to deliberate a verdict. We had maybe forty-five minutes till the end of the day. We were all in pretty close to agreement when we first sat down, but the wonders that talking things through will do.

to be continued…

As I stated previously, Law & Order it was not. 12 Angry Men it wasn’t either. More like nine women and three men with quite jovial dispositions, but I’m getting ahead of myself here.

Jury Selection …

The jury pool has its own designated parking area. This was exciting. The Cobb County Court System was so appreciative of our service that it deemed we deserved our very own parking locale. All we needed to do was wave our little summons at the attendant when pulling into the car park and then he would direct us to where our special little spot would be. It was on the 5^th floor of the parking deck as a matter of fact. One might call it the Penthouse of that particular parking garage with spectacular city views … others might just refer to it as uncovered parking in the nosebleed section wherein our cars can cook in the 100 degree heat.

Upon entering the courthouse and going through security, we were required to check in on the top floor. They scanned our summons and we were directed to the Jury Waiting room for orientation.

After the orientation we were guided to a courtroom. It did not look like a Jack McCoy courtroom. It felt very 80’s 700 Club with the colors, the carpet and the cushion covers. My heart sank a little. After a little Q&A, the chief justice swore us in, assigned us a group and then we were good to go. We would be sent back up to the Jury Waiting room where we could watch TV, relax or mingle until our group was called for a case. Everyone was constantly thanking us for our service and reminding us of how the mere knowledge of our presence was enough to conclude many cases. We were told summer was the best time to serve. Far less cases and they never started new ones on Fridays, so though we were technically in service for the whole week and could technically be placed in multiple juries, the likelihood would be slim and most of us stood a solid chance of being released by noon each day.

I felt like I had just cracked open THE BOOK, when the jury manager took center stage and called Group 2 to attention. I was Group 2. But what happened to Group 1? Regardless, we were required to exit the room single file in the order we were called. The bailiff, who was not wearing a uniform of any kind by the way, counted off.  I was juror 20. We were then taken to a courtroom on the third floor to enter voir dire.

We were asked to sit in the audience area, or the gallery, with ten in the first two rows and the remaining four in the third. The prosecution and the defense teams, along with their clients, were turned around facing all of us. Never saw that on Law & Order.  Felt like fish in a bowl, or barrel depending on your point of view. The judge hobbled in with crutches, board shorts, a polo and his robe wide open. Never saw that either. He welcomed us and thanked us and essentially let voir dire begin.

The prosecutor stepped to the podium first. He aimed to be personable, maybe cracked a joke or two, I can’t quite recall. He reminded me a bit of Stephen Baldwin circa The Usual Suspects (not Bio-Dome); then he began to ask the hard hitting questions. The first one was whether or not anyone had ever witnessed an accident at a specific crossroads in the city. Just so you know, Marietta is a substantial and very wide-spread city, so it wouldn’t have been a shock if no one had seen said crossroads, let alone witnessed an accident there, but you know my luck. I looked around and slowly raised my hand. I was the only one. I was asked to stand and explain myself, so I did. With the looks on both parties’ faces, pretty sure they weren’t going to want me after that.

He continued on. The next question was if anyone lived within a two mile radius of said crossroads. I looked around and raised my hand. I was the only one.  I stood up and explained roughly where I lived. Each chair looked at their co-counsel and yep, I was most definitely not making this jury.

He asked various other questions that reached multiple jurors. Then he asked if any of our family members have ever worked for an insurance company. I looked around and raised my hand. I was the only one.  I think the prosecutor may have even rolled his eyes and the defense looked just as unsurprised. I stood to answer his additional questions.

Prosecutor: So you have a family member who has worked for an insurance company?

Me: Yes, sir. My sister worked for one, but she lived in Chicago at the time. She lives in Colorado now and it’s been like 7-10 years.

Prosecutor: Do you know which insurance company?

Me: No, sir.

Prosecutor: Do you know what she did for the insurance company?

Me: Well … she was an attorney (that got everyone’s attention, including the judge who till this moment looked like he was possibly playing an intense game of Angry Birds on his cell phone behind the bench), but I don’t know exactly what she did …

At this point, I was SO not on this jury I don’t know why they didn’t just let me leave. In fact, the defense immediately stood up and asked permission to approach. They all conferred, looked at me, and then finally the prosecutor came back thanking me and letting me take my seat once again.

More questions came and went. I was never again a lone juror answering direct questions. When it was all said and done, the judge gave the attorneys and their co-counsel 15 minutes to deliberate and pick their jury. Again, nothing like Law & Order, My Cousin Vinny, Runaway Jury, or any other jury selection I’ve seen depicted on the big or small screen. They were given 24 people to choose from and that was that.

The prosecution and the defense turned in their choices. The judge looked things over, nodded, and addressed the group sitting in the gallery. He said if he called our name, to please stand and when directed, take a seat in the jury box.

Of course my name was called.

to be continued…