Tuesday, September 24, 2013

A Jury of His Peers (Pt. 1)


The Gathering

You have been randomly selected for jury duty, congratulations. Your mandated participation in jury service helps to insure the democratic process and the individual rights of each citizen.  These lofty words were the first to greet me when I opened my one and only jury summons recently. Thanks in part to the word mandated, I approached the experience with much trepidation, and many questions.  I was not alone.  About 150 of my fellow citizens were, I deduced by the look in their perplexed and anxious eyes, in lock step with me.  But dutifully we met, early one Monday morning, at the new Criminal  Courthouse in Syracuse. This new facility had no real distinct character or architecture and reminded me of a vanilla ice cream cone. It could not compare with the ornate community fixture that is the “old” courthouse, reverently residing across the street. 

Past the screening devices and guards, we found our way to our gathering place.  It was a large, nondescript room, a typical government utilitarian layout … functional and largely void of any style or color, with plain walls, plain chairs, plain furniture, and plain people. In short, it was as bland inside as out. Some motivational posters were hung such that we could not miss them.  Strange, I thought.  Prospective jurors need some kind of motivation to make the grade?  Or was this just a stab at a life philosophy for all, a lesson or two for us to take away, free of charge?

Of course we had to “check in” before we could sit.  The folks who had that chore were pleasant enough, but infused with an attitude that betrayed that they have been there for a long, long time; the routine was very much ingrained in their psyche.  The chief processor of paper was a nice person named Maureen, who I bet would have been absolutely delightful had she not been conditioned by performing her part literally thousands of times.  Her bland stabs at humor were met with nervous, muted laughter.  We were interested in getting the process started.  We wanted to know what was next.   They, well they were on their own schedule, as we soon found out.

While uniforms of any sort may NOT be worn, there is no specific dress code for jurors, and we ask only that you dress in a manner that shows the proper respect for these important court proceedings. Whoa! Proper respect? Cut off jean shorts with holes, t-shirts fashioned likewise, and flip flops - appropriate in a courtroom?  I was, frankly, shocked at the number of people who didn’t heed this part of the summons, but there they were, in all their Wal-Mart glory (if you have a computer and more than 3 friends who send you “themed” emails, you know what I mean).  And no one seemed to care.  I think a teachable moment passed here.  But let’s face it, if you’ve reached juror age and still don’t know when an occasion calls for appropriate dress, well, you’re not very teachable.

First order of business…we filled out an elaborate questionnaire (designed to weed out undesirables I’m sure), endured some speakers doing “housekeeping” and orientation stuff, and for the first, but certainly not the last time, heard the official mantra of jurors, attributable to Abraham Lincoln:  the highest calling of any citizen is to serve as a juror.  I always thought it was to die for one’s country.  I like jury service better. 

Thus inspired, we watched an excellent video explaining the judicial process that, while riddled with faults, keeps our county in the sane lane. The desired effect was achieved, as a distinct, noticeable change in our attitude descended upon us like magical fairy dust. We had crossed the river. Suddenly, we internalized that a grave responsibility was about to become ours. It was as if we had the whole world in our hands.  Well, at least some of us would hold that world.

Sometimes jurors have to wait while important pre-trial activities take place.  The trial process could involve unanticipated delay.  You are encouraged to bring a book or magazine.  Could  involve delay?  That was an understatement.  I did…bring a book.  I did…read a lot of it.  By and by, it was time for a break.  More and more, this was beginning to resemble a military operation.  Line up, sit down, wait, kill time, take a break, wait some more; repeat same.

During the break I met an interesting gentleman who used no filter describing to me what he thought of this experience. Loud enough to render hearing aids unnecessary, he shared with me how the entire legal process is tainted, everyone is on the take, OJ was guilty, and if called to be on this jury, he would just go along with the majority so he could get the hell out of here.  He even said that if it weren’t for the $1,000 fine for not showing up .. that he wouldn’t have!  We shall call him “Jerry the juror,” for we will see him later.

Next:  The Choosing

Mark Twain Quote:  "We have a criminal jury system which is superior to any in the world, and its efficiency is only marred by the dificulty of finding twelve men every day who don't know anything and can't read."

Thursday, September 12, 2013

The Reports of My Death.....


As Mark Twain would say, are indeed greatly exaggerated.  I ain’t deceased yet, it just looks like it.  I’m actually doing a blog post on jury duty, and I think it a bigger nut than I first envisoned.  It has certainly grown to be that. As Mark also said, “when you catch an adjective, kill it.” He didn’t mean utterly, of course, just most of them.  So, I’m trying and will put a wrap on this project soon.

It doesn’t help that I am also now researching and writing an article (actually, it will probably turn out to be a series of short articles) for an historical publication, albeit it a tiny one....publication, that is.  Holy crap, a byline!  My first, and probably last.  But the project doth interest me much.  Talk about whittling down reams and reams of information, statistics, stories, and just plain old banter.  Did ya ever listen to an old timer spin yarns about life "back in the day?"  God, you can’t tell where the truth exits and the bull enters. And neither can they.  But it’s fun, and the beer is usually on them.

So, this is just an advisory that although it doesn’t look like anything is a happening, the wheels are churning beneath the placid waters.  There’s much on the mind these days, much on the mind.  Tis good God invented the wine and the beer.  It will see me though this mess. 

Mark Twain Quote: "As to the adjective, when in doubt, strike it out."