waiting in the jury assembly room, approximately 3:00 PM, Tuesday, October 28, after not being selected for a case:
My fingers are numb again, toes cold inside thick socks and boots. Ever given plasma? You know, when they drip the bag of saline into your blood, to rehydrate your body after a whole bottle of plasma has been pumped? Saline so cold your forearm burns. Right where the needle sticks in, it aches like arthritis or the dull blue of a winter day, a sinus headache, except in your arm. Your muscles tense hard, shivering. Room temperature blood. That's how my whole body feels, right now. The judge says there's a mic in this room, connected to a hard drive, that records every whisper, every tap, every cough and sniffle and sworn statement. I wonder what the room tone sounds like? The room tone of a court without people. Without a jury. Without a case. That might be interesting. I wish I could hear it. It might calm me down. Instead, I have to answer the list of questions. A laminated list of questions, passed around the room from juror to juror - or, I should say, potential juror to potential juror. None of us have been selected yet.
These are the questions we must answer. No choice not to answer. We're under oath to tell the truth. What is your name? Where do you live? Your occupation? Who do you live with? What do they do? Have you ever been the victim of a crime? If so, what kind of crime? Have you ever been involved in court proceedings? Have you ever served on a jury? If so, for what kind of case? Twenty people until it's my turn. I am going to have to tell them about assault. Identity theft. Rape. I am going to have to say this in front of thirty strangers, counting the attorneys and judge. I don't know if they'll ask for more information. The case is a felony. It involves a gun. Can I be fair and balanced about a gun?
The state's only witness is a police officer. Later, the prosecutor will ask if we have any reservations about law enforcement. She will also tell us about circumstantial evidence. "If you open your door in the morning, and the ground is covered in snow," she will say, "that is circumstantial evidence that it snowed. If you actually watch the snow fall, that is direct." She makes a point about Law & Order, the television show, and how defense teams complain about circumstantial evidence, and how that isn't a fair complaint. I know what she means. I can be fair about that. If you wake up the day after a rape, and you feel a dull ache and burn between your legs, and every inch of your skin is scratched red from being scrubbed the night before, and you feel a vast gulf between mind and body, like maybe you never lived inside your own skin at all, and you just want to die, that's circumstantial evidence you were raped. If you remember back to last night, when you witnessed the theft of your own body, and realized he was also taking your mind, and you fought and fought so he couldn't take your mind, too, then that is direct evidence. You were there. You know. Can you be fair and balanced about that?
It turns out I only have to say assault. No one asks for more information, and I am relieved.
The lawyers make their peremptory challenges, and the process is both mysterious and simple. The defense asks us, Have you ever held an opinion that was a minority opinion, and that others made you feel uncomfortable for holding? Did you stick to it, anyway? Answer no to that question, and you're removed from your jury seat, replaced by someone else. I also notice most of the women are replaced. Felony gun case.
-----------------------------------------------------
waiting in the jury room, approximately 7:45 AM, Monday, October 27, just before orientation, on the first day of jury duty:
When you were a teenager, you had a friend who picked clovers and tore one leaf in half, so he could claim it was good luck. But you knew better. You knew that four-leafed clovers are good luck because they break a pattern in nature. They do not follow the fibonacci sequence. Back then, you thought that was the only example. What does that mean about luck? Are we afraid of the pattern and look for the exception? Or do we like it when nature breaks free from itself? Why do we despise the same deviations in people? The crooked jaw, the too-large nose?
Later, you learned that only ninety-two percent of plants follow the pattern (ninety-two percent of plants with spiral phyllotaxis, that is). And this, it turns out, is the key. The rule is not a rule. You have to change your definiton of luck. Either that, or stop looking for patterns.
Comments (3)
For those of you not familiar with Multnomah County Circuit Court, or jury duty in general ... When you arrive at the courthouse, you check in as a juror, showing your summons. Then you wait in a really big room for a "jury request" from one of the court rooms. This big room is the "jury assembly room." Random people are called in small groups to go up to court rooms, where they are either selected or not selected to sit on the jury of a case. Those who are rejected come back to the assembly room and wait for another call. In Multnomah County, due to budget cuts, jury duty is two days in length. If you are selected for a short trial on one day, and it finishes before your two days are up, you have to go back to the assembly room and wait some more, for another case ... if you get a longer case, you must finish it (three weeks, say, or longer). So when I wrote these freewrites, I was down in the jury assembly room, not in a court room.
Posted by karrie | October 31, 2003 1:57 PM
Posted on October 31, 2003 13:57
*sigh* i'll be in jury duty next week, thanks for the details.
Posted by steve | November 2, 2003 6:47 PM
Posted on November 2, 2003 18:47
To Circuit Court Room 106
March 27, 2004.
Mayor Vera Katz
Portland Police Division
To the Circuit Court room 106:
To whom I hope it concerns:
My name is Donald Lynn Sutton, I am 54 years old, married 36 years, raised 2 children and I am a very Proud Grandfather of 2. I was born in Portland Oregon, worked and paid taxes all my life. I am a member of Prison Fellowship, in Washington County, and I am playing a significant role in starting an After Care Program for prisoners when they are released, in Washington County.
I have never been arrested and in the 38 years I have been driving automobiles, I have never received a speeding ticket. I drive, daily, from Aloha Oregon to Delta Park Oregon. I manage Sleep Country, at Delta Park. I am a very responsible individual and I also give respective discounts to Police officers from Portland and Vancouver. I have always been very Proud of the job that Policeman do, and I have always been very supportive of them.
Last evening, I closed my store at Delta Park at 9:00pm. I drove home, as I do every evening, and as I was traveling down I-405, toward the on ramp to Hwy. 26 West, I was driving 50 miles per hour. Traffic was slowing and I assumed there was an accident ahead. As I was approaching the on ramp, a new black Lincoln Continental, passed me on the left, at an excessive amount of speed. The automobile was continuing South on I-405, and that is when I seen a motorcycle Police Officer and a Police car. I had already observed another Police car, with lights flashing ahead. The Police car pulled out and I thought it was going to pull the black Lincoln Continental over. Instead, he motioned me over to the side and the Officer approached my right side of the car. I, then, hoped he was willing to admit he made a mistake, but this man would not even reason with me. He was very ride to me.
I asked him why he pulled me over and he told me I was driving 70 miles per hour. I was polite with him and tried to reason with him, but he was just un willing to listen. He asked me for my driver痴 license and my insurance card and I obliged him. I told him I counted 9 automobiles around me, when I saw him, and that I looked at my speedometer and I was driving 50 miles per hour. He then told me I was lying and walked back to his car.
A few minutes later, he approached my window and I told him I had never received a speeding citation in my life. I asked him if I could see the radar readout, showing I was driving 70 miles an hour, and these were his exact words, 的 didn稚 even have to clock you, I could tell you were driving at least 70 miles per hour. The only thing you get to see is this bad news I am handing you.� He then handed me my driver痴 license and the citation, but failed to return my insurance card.
Just recently, I responded to a poll regarding the shooting incident by Officer Perez, in NE Portland. I was very supportive of our Portland Policemen and Women, but I must tell you, after the treatment I received this evening for doing absolutely nothing wrong, I am about ready to start marching with the black Community of Portland.
I am a Christian man, not religious, Christian. I am one to help anyone in need. Two of my pet peeves in life are thieves and liars, and I am not lying, I am being very honest!!
I will come to Court and plead not guilty. I will mail my story to every media area that will listen. I will do my very best to tell everyone who will listen, how I was treated by the Portland Policemen, that wrongfully gave me a penalty to pay. He was wrong, he made a mistake and I will be curious to see if anything will be done about this. I am sure that everyone that is cited for speeding has an excuse, and I am certain that you have heard all of them. Well, this is not an excuse, this is the Truth!
A copy of this letter will be sent to the Portland Police Division and Mayor Katz. I am still thankful for the protection the Police Force gives me, but I admit when I am wrong, can they do the same?
A very confused Citizen,
Donald Lynn Sutton
20920 SW Sandra Lane
Aloha, Oregon 97006
503-591-8260
Posted by Donald Lynn Sutton | April 28, 2004 7:49 AM
Posted on April 28, 2004 07:49