(NOTE: I accidentally published this diary too soon, so I'm scrambling to complete it in sections as I go; keep checking back for updates!)
So, as anyone who's been following my diaries about the saga of the situation in MI-08 knows, I've been focused like a laser beam on the situation there, and you may be wondering why I've basically gone silent since the primary election itself--which, I'm afraid, Lance lost quite decisively. You probably think that I've "gone dark" because he lost, and have simply dropped the race.
You couldn't be more wrong. There have been further twists in MI-08, but I've imposed a gag order on myself until a few things are resolved; it's a very delicate situation and while some of these developments have been reported on publicly, I'm too close to both of the candidates' campaigns to feel comfortable chiming in at this particular juncture. So, stay tuned, and I'll post the latest developments as soon as I feel comfortable doing so.
IN THE MEANTIME...I thought I might switch gears a bit and present you with something on a totally unrelated topic: Jury Duty. I was called in for the first time in my life this week and actually served.
For those of you who've served on a jury before, or who have at least been called, most of this is old news, but to me it was a fascinating experience that I thought I'd share with anyone who's interested. I'll also note that the procedures involved may differ from state to state, or even county to county, so my own experience may be vastly different from your own if you're ever called to serve.
BEING CALLED: A couple of months ago, I received a notice in the mail which also includes a simple survey that asks basic questions about things like confirming my residence, any possible medical problems, type of employment, whether or not I've ever been convicted and so forth. This is obviously meant to make sure that I'm eligible to serve at all, as well as giving basic information to both attorneys for them to consider during the selection process. You're given a date to appear, and a phone number for confirmation or deferral. You're allowed 1 deferral without providing a reason (which I had to do due to a scheduling conflict); if you want a second deferral you have to show cause.
You're also given a Juror Number badge.
SHOWING UP: I got to the county courthouse at 8:30 am and was directed to a large waiting room where my badge was scanned in; I then got to sit around with at least a hundred other people, waiting. After a few minutes, a video monitor came on and a court employee showed up with a microphone; she proceeds to give a basic overview of the procedure, and then turns on a video tutorial that goes over the general concepts: Trial by jury; presumption of innocence; burden of proof; the distinction between criminal and civil cases, and so on.
Most of this stuff is old hat to anyone who's taken even a basic civics course (or watched a single courtroom drama), but it's still a good refresher, and, as I found out later, there's plenty of people who have never heard of some of these terms or concepts.
Now, I'd been told by numerous people to bring a book, because I'd most likely just be sitting on my ass all day, waiting. As it happens, I was one of the first ones called--they pick 30 juror numbers at random to leave the room and line up down the hall. This is the jury pool, from which 12 will, in turn, be randomly selected for the initial jury selection.
At this point one of the clerks for the judge in that particular case shows up, explains which judge she works for and leads the whole group to the courtroom. Since this judge was several flights up, she actually had to have us count off at the start and end of the trip to make sure we all made it, like a kindergarten class (apparently they've had problems with stray jurors wandering off).
THE SELECTION PROCESS: Once we arrived at the courtroom, we were led in and told to sit in the general benches. I was surprised that the entire gang was already in attendance--the prosecutor, the defense attorney, and even the defendant (this was a criminal case, not civil), along with the bailiff and a couple of county sheriffs' dept. guards. We were all told to rise and the judge entered the court.
Now, I’m certain that this part varies greatly depending on the judge, but this guy was REALLY into his job—he had us sit, welcomed us, and gave us some very basic info about the case: The charge was Breaking & Entering with Intent to Commit Larceny, otherwise known as B&E w/I, which is a felony.
He then went on a good 30-minute diatribe/lecture/tutorial about the history of judicial systems—from stonings and lynchings to the "if she sinks, she’s innocent; if she floats, she’s guilty" insanity of the medieval period, up through the American Revolution, King George and the (REAL) Boston Tea Party. He explained how the trials of American settlers were conducted overseas without the defendent being present, with no jury, and at the whim of the King, etc etc.
Then he went onto a more detailed overview of a Jury of your Peers, Burden of Proof, Innocent until Proven Guilty, Beyond a Reasonable Doubt and so forth.
From some of the examples the judge used (particularly how things work in China, as well as some off-topic points about suicide bomber terrorism), I could tell that he’s very much of a Libertarian bent in his personal views, but in terms of doing his job, he seemed extremely knowledgeable and professional throughout the whole case.
Finally, they began the selection process—in which I happened to be one of the first 13 called to the stand (they need 13 people to have an alternate, in case one of the 12 actual jury members gets sick or whatever). The other 17 people sit and wait for the selection process to conclude.
At this point, the judge starts asking all 13 of us pointed questions about whether we’ve ever been tried ourselves, ever sat on a jury before, ever served as a witness, whether we have any personal biases that might cloud our judgement and so on—basically a more detailed version of the original questionnaire. Most importantly, he asked about whether any of us knew or had any connection with anyone else in the courtroom—other jurors, the judge, either of the lawyers, the defendant, even the bailiff.
The main point here, of course, is to make sure that there’s no inappropriate connections/biases. He told us that in various cases in the past, he’d had a juror who had themselves been a defendant in a case that he himself had presided over! Obviously that wouldn’t be right! He said it’s amazing how many "small world" situations had come up—jurors had been dismissed for being the cousin of the defendant, for going to high school with the prosecutor, and so forth.
When he finished, it was time for the attorneys to do their thing. They ask a bunch more probing questions, some of all of us, some of individuals. For instance, I had told the judge that I’d served as a witness on 3 different trials before: Once as a material witness, twice as an expert witness. He left it up to the prosecutor, however, to probe further: She asked about details of those cases. All 3 were civil cases, one was a slip & fall case at a movie theater I’d once been a manager at, and the other 2 were breach of contract cases between other web developers and their clients. Since none of them had any connection to a B&E or material theft, neither she nor the defense attorney kicked me out.
Now, any number of potential jurors can be dismissed "for cause", which is to say, if they have medical problems that prevent them from serving; a language barrier; can prove financial hardship; have an inappropriate connection as described above; or any number of other "solid" reasons, if the judge agrees. In our case, this did happen a couple of times--one woman who's English wasn't very good was dismissed, as was some other guy (I forget what his situation was).
In addition, both the prosecutor and the defense attorney have a limited number of jurors who they can choose to dismiss without giving any specific reason. I'm pretty sure the limit in this case was up to 5 apiece, because they dismissed a total of 10 jurors in this manner. This is where the strategic part of the judicial game is played--the attorneys try to get the jury to look the way they want. Since most of the witnesses in this case are police officers, the prosecutor wants people who are prone to believe that the police are all sterling examples of integrity; the defense attorney wants a bunch of people who've been tazed and harassed by the cops. Well, not quite that extreme, but you get the idea.
In some cases it was clear why the prosecutor or defense attorney dismissed the juror; in others they did so for their own reasons that weren't obvious to me.
The woman originally sitting next to me was dismissed by the defense attorney because her mother had once been burglarized while she (her mother) was out of the house, had returned home while the burglar was still there and had slipped and broken her foot while fleeing her own home.
Another guy was dismissed because he was himself a police dispatcher.
A woman was dismissed because her own brother was currently serving time for murder during an armed robbery. You get the idea.
Anyway, I made the final cut, and we were sent back to the Jury Room to await the trial itself, which started less than an hour later.
TOMORROW: PART TWO: THE TRIAL