Juror #7 Reporting for Duty

The letter was from the Superior Court of California, County of San Mateo. Its meaning was clear: I was to report to the Hall of Justice In Redwood City on a particular date at such-and-such a time, no excuses.

Is there anyone who greets a jury summons with a “Yippee! Fifteen dollars a day and all I have to do is put my entire life on hold. Woo hoo!”

I thought not.

I put a note on my calendar: “CALL ABOUT JURY DUTY,” hoping that the call to the jury commissioner the night before I was due to appear would yield the welcome recording, “If you have been assigned to jury #1002, you are excused.” In my ten years of residence in California, I have received nine summonses and nine reprieves. I had never had to set foot in the courthouse.

Let’s skip over the part where I discovered I had written it down on the wrong day, failed to appear and had to throw myself on the mercy of the court. (They were not only merciful,they were downright good-natured about it.)

On the new day I was assigned, I actually l had to show up, along with 299 other San Mateo County residents. We gathered in the basement, where we were given instructions for filling out paperwork by a lone clerk, who cheerfully repeated the words, “home phone, work phone, signature” about 37 times.

Soon enough, we were herded upstairs in three groups to wait again in the courtroom we had been assigned. Twelve jurors were chosen at random, and–you guessed it–I was one of them. Despite my full disclosure that I am against illegal drugs and my husband is in law enforcement, I made it through the selection process and became Juror #7.

That’s when I fell in love. And it wasn’t with the avuncular Judge Parsons. I fell in love all over again with my country, just when I was getting truly impatient with her shortcomings.

The trial was a short one: The State of California vs. Methamphetamine Molly (not her real name), one count of felony possession and one count of being under the influence. Jury selection took one day; jury instructions, opening arguments and testimony another day; on the third day we got closing arguments, more instructions, and the case was handed over to us for our decision.

We were stripped of our cell phones and locked in the jury room. It was the first time the twelve of us had sat facing each other; the judge’s admonition to not discuss the case with anyone meant that we had avoided fraternizing. The first thing we did was ask each other who wanted to be foreman. An older white man raised his hand and offered his experience in having served on two previous juries. We gratefully accepted his leadership.

In trued democratic fashion, we went around the table and stated our thoughts and concerns. We raised our hands instead of interrupting. Everyone was serious, thoughtful, and conscientious.

The case was clearcut. The meth had been found in the bedroom of a woman who had admitted being under the influence. It was in the nightstand, by her side of the bed, surrounded by her things, including her wallet. Despite having admitted to snorting meth with the straw that was found right next to the drugs, the defendant had no idea how the drugs themselves had appeared in her drawer.

A slam-dunk case, you might say. Certainly, it was the kind that rarely gets to court. But that’s the great thing about our system. If you want a trial, you get a trial. Fourteen of your fellow citizens will put their lives on hold to participate in that trial. The attorneys will do their best to present the evidence and the judge will make sure the proceedings are fair.

We found the defendant guilty of both counts, but only after careful consideration and a fascinating discussion of what constitutes reasonable doubt, which I’m sure takes place in every jury room in every case.

Here’s my point. We have a beautiful system, and it works. It depends on citizens’ willingness to serve. 

So, the next time you get a jury summons, instead of trying to get out of it, be grateful. You’ll have the chance to participate personally in our justice system. I’ll make you proud to be an American.