This Whole Court is Out of Order

Day 5: Jury Duty

With quotes like "Just the facts ma'am." and "You can't handle the truth!"  and "This whole court is out of order!" swirling around in my head in a grand whirlwind of courtroom dramas you can imagine my excitement when my jury summons arrived in the mail.  Well, okay, it didn't go exactly that way.  Actually, I didn't even know the summons had arrived until I found it stashed away on a shelf (thank you Sarah) and I wasn't exactly excited, more concerned with how jury duty would fit into my schedule, and still allow me to pay my ever present stack of bills.  However, once the day to fulfill my civic duty finally arrived I was intrigued to find out more about the process that makes this country what it is.

I was summoned to the Orange County Central Justice Center, which luckily for me is just a couple blocks from my house, so while the 7:45 am arrival time was not a welcome requirement, I was in a much better predicament than many of my fellow prospective jurors.  As I followed the crowd of people from the parking structure to the courthouse, I couldn't help but notice I was the only one that didn't seem to mind having to be there, and what's more even be somewhat exited about the experience. 

We were checked in, given our orientation (not quite the riveting presentation I was hoping for) then within a short while the first pools of prospective jurors were called and given their courtroom assignments.  I listened intently for my name, that is until I realized they were calling people in alphabetical order at which time I went back to my magazine until they got to somewhere around Mr. Van Tran.  Then like roll call in elementary school they said, "Lindsay Wiser," to which I replied, "Here" and off I went to my assigned courtroom. 

216, that was my official juror number assigned to me as we filed into the court room.  It was everything I had imagined, complete with bailiffs and lawyers and a stenographer (I still can't comprehend how they do what they do.)  We all rose, got sworn in, sat down, then rose again as the honorable Judge Something-or-Other entered the courtroom.  He then proceeded to inform us about the nature of the case.

First he told us it was a criminal case.  I immediately got excited, this would be much more interesting than a boring civil matter.  Then he stated it would be a murder trial.  Wow, even more excitement mixed with a little nervousness.  That's a lot of pressure.  Finally the judge told us that this was a cold case in which the woman was murdered in 1983 and the courts were now prosecuting her husband for the crime.  That did it, this was officially cool and I think I was officially the only one in the room who thought so.  While everyone else was trying to come up with their reasons for not being able to sit on the jury of what was expected to be a month long case, I was attempting to figure out some way to make it feasible.  But alas, those nagging financial obligations reared their ugly heads and I was forced to claim extreme hardship and get excused from the case.

So now, as I reflect upon my experience of fulfilling my civic duty I am glad to have it behind me, but also delighted by the prospect of future service.  Part of me was bummed that is was over so quickly. I couldn't help but be intrigued by all the different people going about their business in the courthouse.  I wanted to listen in on everyone's conversations.  I wanted to know everyone's story.  Why were they there?  Were they being tried for something?  Do they have a loved one on trial, or are they the family of the victim?  For now I will just have to be content with my minor participation in the legal process.  I only hope that the next time I receive that infamous beige slip of paper I will finally be independently wealthy and able to fully experience our justice system in action.