Cursed Tongue: Adventures in Jurisimprudence: Jury Selection

Posted by CursedTongue on March 22, 2008

My second jury summons ever appeared in the mailbox in late March, and I knew immediately that my number was up.  Last time I filled in the on-line reply, called the jury hotline the night before the summons as instructed, and I was told I was not needed.  I was confused, but relieved.  Why bother to send me a summons if I wasn’t going to be summoned?

This time I just had a feeling that April 30th would be the day I’d get put on my first jury.  (Notwithstanding an unexpected confrontation with a bus, I just know it won’t be my last.)  My feelings proved correct and I was asked to appear at the Maricopa County Superior Court at 8 a.m.

I wheedled my husband into driving me.  It would be a long, transfer-ridden bus ride to the courthouse.  I walked into the building through the jury entrance, juggling my purse and a messenger bag.  The trip through security was much less painful airport security, even though I was yelled at for not taking the water bottles out of my bag and was asked to lift my pant legs, like some racy 1800’s ankle peep show.

The Jury Assembly room was large, and much like the waiting area of an airport, with rows of semi-comfy seats and TVs mounted on the ceiling.  There were vending machines in the back and a “quiet” room where people could go to talk on their cell phones.  There was also a check-in desk, where the flight attendant on our journey through the doldrums of the legal system stood.  We watched an informative video about the judicial branch of government that included an intro with flyovers of the desert and Mount Rushmore (which for the geographically impaired filmmaker, is not in Arizona.)  Then the courthouse employees inflicted the entire room of upstanding citizen with the movie <i>Love Potion Number Nine</i>.  It has monkeys in it.  Monkeys!

I suppose they did that so that I would feel kind of relieved when I escaped the comedic styling of Sandra Bullock to become Potential Juror #23.  Forty-four other potential juror and I were ushered to the elevators, so we could ride to the 10th floor and wait in line for about an hour.

Finally, we were ushered into the courtroom.  We piled into pew-like rows and were sworn in.  The judge explained that we would undergo a questioning process called <i>voir dire</i>.  Apparently, it’s French for “lie like your pants are on fire to get out of jury duty,” because that’s what most of the jury pool proceeded to do.

No fewer than 6 jurors told the judge that they believed the defendant was guilty, simply because he was the defendant.  The judge explained the underpinnings of the U.S. judicial system every single time this happened.  Two of the jurors were single dads with four kids.  One woman claimed not to know English very well.  And another woman had “spiritual objections” to passing judgment on another human being.  About a handful of people disappeared after lunch for mysterious medical problems.

After four hours of sitting quietly on solid, unforgiving oak, the group was ushered into the hall and half of them were dismissed.  The rest of us were told to appear tomorrow at 11am.  Which turned out to be the most inconvenient time to try to arrive in the city of Phoenix by bus.

We came in 30 minutes before the traditional courthouse lunchtime because the judge and lawyers called a second jury pool.  They went through 90 people to find 13 jury members.  Thus Potential Juror #23 became Juror #6.

- Sarah Letnes

Filed Under: Cursed Tongue, Guest Blog - Comments: Be the First to Comment

Tags: humor, jury duty

top