The Jury’s Still Out: Adventures in Jury Duty

by Traci
Written some point in 2006?

My significant other is always asking me to write something for the Manifesto, the problem is I don’t ever feel like I have anything worth writing about.  I keep thinking that I will write once I have something out of the ordinary to write about.  I guess that something was jury duty. 

If you are like me, when you think of jury duty you think about O.J. Simpson.  I was only like 14 or 15 when O.J. happened, but my dad was a devoted follower of the case, so I think that I probably learned more about the case than your normal teen.

When I received my summons to Salt Lake City Justice court, I was about 60 percent annoyed, 40 percent curious.  Having not really had any exposure to a real-life court, I was interested to how the wheels of justice really turn.  I received a letter telling me that I had to call a phone number every night for a week to find out if I would be one of the lucky chosen ones.  I almost made it through the week without having to report, but on Thursday night I heard the robot lady on the other end of the line tell me I was “required” to report the next day.

I arrived at the courthouse a few minutes before 8:30 a.m. and the waiting began.  We all sat around and waited until about 8:50, when we moved from a waiting room to a courtroom.  Here we had to watch a movie starring real people from like 1988 talking about jury duty.  My only thought about the movie was that somebody should find the woman being interviewed guilty of crimes against fashion for the shoulder pads she was sporting.  My favorite part of the movie - which comprised about 50% of the movie – was the various people talking about why we shouldn’t feel bad if we are not chosen.  

Apparently Miss Shoulder Pad’s confidence was really shaken when she wasn’t chosen and she had to go through a lot of soul searching and questioning as to why she wasn’t picked for the team. She was telling us that it was alright, and that it doesn’t mean anything - left over scarring from not getting asked to the high school prom anyone?

Once we finished this super-helpful video, we were told that we wouldn’t have any major cases like murder or kidnapping.  After we filled out a form asking our name, birthday, job and what newspapers and magazines we read, we were all marched to the cashiers to collect our $18.50.  After breaking the bank, we were treated to a lot more sitting.

After a very long while (and a boring conversation with one of my fellow potential jurors), we were told to follow the bailiff upstairs to another courtroom.  When we arrived, we were told that this was a DUI case.  We listened to another speech from the judge (which included a spiel about not feeling bad if we weren’t chosen - how sad it must be for those whose confidence rests on whether or not they are selected for jury duty) about our role as possible jurors. 

The judge then asked us a lot of questions as a group. If the answer to any of them was yes, we had to raise our hand. I noticed that the two lawyers had a little chart with each of our names.  As we answered questions, the lawyers would make notes about us on the chart.  Since it was a DUI case, the judge asked if anyone in the pool (or someone close to them) had been pulled over for DUI.  I was slightly embarrassed for those who raised their hand and had to respond that they had been pulled over for DUI.  We were also asked if there was anyone in the pool who didn’t drink for religious, moral or health reasons.  I got to raise my hand on that one, and that may have been the question that got me eliminated.  Or it may have also been the fact that I was on the end of the row next to the wall and spent part of the time sitting with my head resting against the wall.

The wheels of justice may turn, but not very swiftly, and I was tired, having already been there for three hours.  I kind of think that my laziness may have been a real turnoff for the lawyers.  Maybe they thought “Not only does she not drink, but she’s lazy, too- maybe too lazy to even drive at all” and crossed me off.

 
Whatever it may have been, I didn’t get chosen to sit on the panel of four jurors.  So I took my $18.50 and got on the TRAX and came home.  In retrospect, a part of me is glad that I didn’t get chosen, because even though it wasn’t a “major” case, it was probably pretty major to those involved and I don’t know if I want to be responsible for how that decision.  Another part of me was still mildly interested in being involved in an actual court case.  Oh well.  At least I didn’t have be sequestered at the Shilo Inn or something.