Day 2, Part 3: The Remains of the Day

I don’t know where everyone ran off to during their lunch break. All I know is that we all assembled back in the jury pool at around 1:00pm. Then, at 1:10pm, our bailiff came back down to return us upstairs to meet our fates, whatever they happened to be.

I took the elevator again.

Upstairs we all lined up again in rows, only this time in the order in which we were seated, so I stood in front.

The “Bingo!” guy was warmly embraced by an old-timer, who had also been seated. The older man firmly grasped the younger mans shoulders and affectionately predicted “He’s gonna’ be our foreman!”

The foreman, as the booklet puts it, he “…Acts as chairman (of the jury). It is his duty to see that discussion is carried on in sensible and orderly fashion, to see that the issues submitted for your decision are fully and fairly discussed, that every juror has a change to say what he thinks upon every question.”

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t kinda’ want that job for myself. But the people had spoken. And I suppose “Bingo” guy did have a certain Henry Fondaish quality about him.

I guess after my comment I had a certain Peter Fondaish quality.

We entered the courtroom with a degree of pomp and circumstance, which I enjoyed, though it was certainly not to the degree afforded to Judge Kellough.

After some preliminary sitting, standing, and instructions (again!) the D.A. finished up with us. I don’t think he had much more to say, as he got most of what he wanted in before lunch.

Now it was the Defense’s turn.

If the D.A. looked like he’d never been in a courtroom before, then the Defense looked like he had been born in one. I don’t know if it was the gray mustache or his no-nonsense manner, but something about this fellow screamed old-time lawyer.

Because of this I immediately liked him. He reminded me of long-gone era, when men became lawyers not because it was the glamorous doctorate, but because of a genuine passion for the law.

If I may be permitted to preach for a minute…

It seems that just about everybody has a law degree these days. This unfortunate situation, I feel, brings the whole occupation, indeed vocation, down. In addition, it makes everyone who generally wishes to spend their life practicing law immediately suspect of being a charlatan.

Sure there have always been crooks posing as attorneys. But there was once a time when lawyers were a definable, particular breed. Now, regardless of your passion, your calling, your creed, there is a law for you.

Worse then that, people no longer enter law expecting to be good at it or even wanting to be. They join the ranks because to them it’s the most prestigious “Get Rich Quick” scheme around.
It just seems like the aura once afforded to the profession is becoming increasingly, tragically lost.

But this Defense Attorney, for whatever reason, reminded me of a different time. A time when being a lawyer meant something, other then you decided to stay in school for four more years.

Ok, rant over.

I said earlier how after listening to the D.A. speak I was convinced the defendant was guilty. His spiel was that good. Well, with that in mind, I was just as confident after the Defense spoke that he was innocent.

If the D.A.’s goal was to get us to understand what he had to do, (prove the defendant guilty), then the Defense’s goal was to do, basically, nothing.

You understand that the Prosecutor has the burden of proof in this case, the Defense asked us. You know that he has to do all the work, he added. He even asked me in particular what I thought his job in this case was.

I responded that it was to counteract the arguments made by the D.A.

Wrong.

While that would’ve been a good strategy, (and almost certainly the one he would employ), that wasn’t what he was shooting for. It was the D.A.’s job to prove guilt, he said, not his to prove innocence.

His client was, after all, “Innocent until prove guilty”.

I’m not sure if I thought of this at the time, but there was something absolutely fascinating about this whole process. This was, in essence, a chess game between two people. It was a battle of wits between two lawyers, who just happened to be a young lion and an old lion. More important then the symbolism was the fact that a man’s life at stake.

What put everything into perspective for me was when I considered the two strategies being employed.

On one side was The Prosecutor, who empowered us, who told us that we could help put a criminal behind bars.

On the other side was The Defense, who enlightened us, who implored us to send a man back home to his wife and child.

It was hard to believe that they were talking about the same person.

As far as I can remember, no one was dismissed for cause during the Defense’s cross examination. I don’t think that’s customary anyway, as it’s the D.A.’s job to put the fear of God into ya’, and the Defense’s job to bring you back down to earth.

And with that Voir Dire had ended, and it was time to move onto the eccentric Stage 2. It is the popularity contest of the jury system, the time when attorney’s get to choose who they want to play on their kickball team.

Stage 2 is the part where both sides can dismiss 3 random jurors, no questions asked. It begins with the D.A. who…

“Hunter Howe Cates”

Anyway, as I was saying, Stage 2 is…wait a minute. What did he just say?

Had I just been dismissed? Me, the squeaky-clean, red-blooded, clean-shaven, All American Everyman?

This was an outrage! On what grounds was I being dismissed? It’s not like I said that marijuana should be legalized or anything egregious like that.

Oh wait.

Well, there it was. I had fully expected to be seated, fully expected to serve, and most especially, fully expected to have some great in-depth immersive report at the end.

And I had blown it. And all because of my big mouth.

I sulked my way down to the basement, taking in the shock. I was so distressed that I took the stairs.

The rest of the day I remained in the jury pool. I tried to play the old Nintendo they had hooked up, but it didn’t work. Most everyone there was to interview had filtered away.

So it was just me and Newt.

There was one more call for jurors that day and I was, again, not picked. We were let out for the day, and told we didn’t have to come back the next day. It was Holy Week and the Courthouse was closed that Friday. So I was done.

And that brought an end to my Adventures in Jury Duty.