RECAP OF MY FIRST JURY EXPERIENCE (continued)
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Except the jury ... some of them wondered if we could ask the defendant more questions, bring in other witnesses etc. Ignorance abounded. Some even wanted to go to the scene of the crime and role-play the situation to see if the TV set could have fallen when the cab pulled over.
We finally took a vote and it appeared to be eight voting guilty and four voting not guilty. The major not-guilty advocate kept saying sexist things like "we can't vote with that timid little woman attorney who should be home taking care of children" and paying more attention to her than the facts of the case. Other quality statements in the jury room were:
"Well, you know he had the gun even if it wasn't proved ... no cab driver in this area would be on the streets without one."
"You can't believe the story the cab driver told; he's Black."
"Everyone hates cab drivers. You know he was just trying to cause trouble." Etc.
Yet the most disturbing one was this:
"Oh come on you guys, just find him guilty. If he really didn't do it, he can appeal the case."!!!!! Right about then I wanted to resign from humanity.
Anyway, it occurred to me that the cab driver said himself that he come to a screeching halt to not hit the second dispatcher, yet no mention was made then about the supposedly wobbly TV falling. So I proposed to the jury that how could someone who drives a cab for a living which involves pulling off to the right side of the street (as he did in stopping for the cops) and having a TV set always in the cab to kill time at National Airport, have it be so unsteady that it would topple over at the slightest natural turn or swerve to the right, yet it wouldn't fall at an abrupt screeching halt? Immediately then, three of the four dissenters jumped to their feet and in a dramatic moment, pointed at me and said "You're absolutely right! That just doesn't make sense. I'm changing my vote to guilty."
So here I was, Henry Fonda eat your heart out, convincing these bozos of something different from what they originally believed. The last odd man out (the sexist, who coincidentally was most probably gay) finally gave in and changed his vote and everyone was ready to leave and get on with their lives (after two hours of deliberation), when I asked the guy if he were changing his vote because of the peer pressure or because he'd been convinced. When he admitted the former, I sat back down and announced that he should change his vote back to not-guilty and we should rehash the whole thing until a true and unanimous verdict was reached. The other ten people almost had heart attacks at that, came close to a mutiny, and accused me of first convincing them that I was right and now saying I wasn't. I retorted that I didn't convince anyone of anything and that I'm not saying I'm right. I'm just saying that I am fully convinced that it was proven beyond a reasonable doubt and I'll gladly share my reasoning for that conclusion, but that it is everyone's moral and civic obligation to decide for himself whether guilt was proven beyond a reasonable doubt or not. Naturally, all of that philosophy totally escaped the rabble around me, so the uncertain moron just went along with the group and we returned to the courtroom to deliver our guilty verdict. On the way out, an especially sleezy juror (who was about five feet tall and looked something like a troll) put his arm on my back and said "You're pretty smart; I like 'em smart." Yikes.
Sentencing is done later so I have no idea what we'd done to the man's life. It does make me wonder, though, just how fair are juries? Almost none of these jurors was without prejudice, including some so blatant it might have been grounds for a mistrial. A couple were shy, withdrawn, and timid and I really wonder what they were thinking, since they never said a word. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if it weren't in their mindset/personality somewhere that the easiest, safest, and least vulnerable thing to do would be to go with the majority opinion and therefore not have to speak up or say a word and if it happened to really go against their grain and they personally thought something in the minority, so what? ... "... probably I'm wrong anyway since all these other people feel so strongly ... so I must have just not listened well enough ... they must be right ... yes, I think I do agree with them ... good, I won't have to talk...", etc. Which brings up a frightening thought: what happens if the most adamant, most aggressive, most talkative, most overbearing, most convincing, most arrogant juror happens to be WRONG? I think it is that type of person who decides the fate of the accused; not the facts, not the witnesses, and not even much the attorneys. Think about it.
THE TRIAL FOR WHICH I WANTED TO BE A JUROR BUT WASN'T CHOSEN
My last appearance for the panel was the one where over 100 people alone had to show up for this particular trial. (In addition, that day there were other trials and over 200 other people milling around.) It involved an elderly Chinese man, Mr. Larry Wu-Tai Chin, who'd been accused of about 17 counts of espionnage. (Some of those charges were actually IRS charges for failing to report spy income, though.) Allegedly this had been going on since 1951, so this chap had a long story to tell. The jury selection took well over three hours, with 90 minutes of it happening while I was off in another room. That was because one of the judge's en masse questions elicited about 70% response from the panel (but I wasn't one of them).
The query: Did anyone know anything about the case from the newspapers, TV, or radio? (Now you see why I didn't know anything!! I did feel stupid, though. I think the rest of the ignorant 30% were only ignorant because either their memories had failed them and they forgot they knew about the case or more likely because they probably can't read.) So we unknowing few got sent to another room and waited and waited and waited. Another question that drew a large response was whether anyone had any prior involvement with an intelligence agency or the IRS. A few people had to mention being audited, one lady was the wife of the Assistant Director of the IRS, and several worked for the FBI, CIA, the Defense Dept., the Defense Intelligence Agency, etc. or knew someone who did. (By the way, if the SAC is classified as that, Jeff, I should have talked about you, since you're family. Did I leave out something important? You might let me know for future cases.)
There were several other things about this trial that differed from the others for which I've sat on the panel. The defense consisted of three attorneys, all from different law firms (which still surprises me) and the U.S. had four attorneys. There were also reporters around and even a court artist who busily sketched the room, the cast of characters, etc. And talk about volumes of paper! Boxes and boxes of exhibits, maps, charts, etc. Even three easels off in the corner with large diagrams of some sort. But the thing that differed the most was the attitude of the judge in excusing potentially biased jurors. One woman stood and said she thought anyone who spied on the U.S. was guilty, yet the judge didn't excuse her. (The defense attorneys, however, quickly scratched her name off their lists!) Another man who owned his own business and had to be in Florida in two days announced such and the judge gave him a lecture on the "inconvenience" of jury duty but that he couldn't make exception for something that trivial as running a business and supporting one's family. Another lady announced she'd be flying south in a few days to sign some last paperwork for closing a house deal and the judge gave her the third-degree on why no one else could do it or why it couldn't be postponed. Even after she informed him that no one else could do it, that it had to be done then, and that she was the sole surviving relative to her father who'd just passed away (thus the sole) and was under strain, stress, and preoccupation, the honorable judge said basically 'too bad ... no one said life was easy' and didn't excuse her. (She was ultimately chosen from the random draw, but she was challenged and asked to step down, so I'm hoping some attorney took pity and gave her a break.) One of the jurors that was chosen and stayed for the trial was the woman on my jury who said that we couldn't believe the cab driver because of his color, and this poor man was Chinese! I felt like standing up and telling the judge that I didn't think she could be impartial!
Anyway, so many people were in Court on that day, there were no public parking spaces left, so I parked on the street where it said "two-hour parking only", knowing I'd go over and would have to pay a fine. I was quite displeased, however, to find the ticket carried a $20 fine with it, whereas had I parked at a two-hour meter and exceeded the limit, the fine is only $7. Great, huh? So much for serving the public. The trial didn't last as many days as the judge anticipated, so I wonder what transpired. Mr. Chin was found guilty on all counts (this was just a week or so ago) and sent to some local jail. Apparently, sentencing was set for March 17. I heard on the news last night that he was found dead in his cell, the result of a suicide. (Plastic bag over the head.) Makes me feel a little uneasy; it's all kind of eerie ...
CONCLUSION
What is there left to say? Since my experiences with our judicial process, I've been accused of being "idealistically naive" and I think my accusers must be right. I actually always thought that the innocent are protected and that the facts would ring true in any questionnable circumstance. I feel so strongly now, though, that the facts have almost nothing to do with what the outcome will be. More than them, it's the delivery and preparation and styles of the lawyers, the credibility of the witnesses, and mostly the biases of the twelve men and women behind closed doors, who're more interested in going to lunch or telling their own stories than serving justice. I can't think of any better way to decide the guilt or innocence of someone brought to attention, but I have little respect for this procedure and I cringe at the thought that someday, someone I know might have his or her future decided by twelve angry men.
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