It's the two four-letter words you dread to hear. (da-dum)
Sep 08 '06
The Bottom Line A civic duty that remains compelling yet necessary task in our judicial system.
In the criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate yet equally important groups: the police, who investigate crime; and the district attorneys, who prosecute the offenders. These are their stories. - opening narration to Law & Order
The summons came in through the mail early this spring. Grimacing, I knew it was coming because I postponed the date once before allowable by law. It came from the Queens Division of Jurors located in Jamaica, NY. This would be the second time ever I served for Queens county of the State of New York. Yes, it is jury duty.
Constructed out of postcard material, the mailer perforated into four sections: note from the commissioner of Jurors, instructions for juror, juror card and registration. Each piece were identified with a barcode so as to identify the juror's status. The telephone message instructed me to appear the following weekday with a pen and appropriate attire. No electronic devices nor mace are allowed. Failure to show will result in civil penalties and a fine of $250.00.
I reported to the Kew Gardens Juror Assembly Room on Queens Boulevard at about 8:30 in the morning. There was the security checkpoint covering the entrance. I was treated to a surprise from the last time I served in August five years ago. The bright and airy room beckon me to enjoy the amenities, yes, amenities, of being in the pool. Eight Hi-Definition 32" Flat Panel televisions mounted strategically at each pillar, tuned to CNN. No local news were piped in for to avoid juror exergent influence. The neatly rowed seats felt comfortable, almost stadium-like. My, was it different when we had it five years ago. They had worn out benches and dilapidated air-conditioners. Only one or two TV's blared public service announcements generic to jurors.
The matron clerk called out those who had any questions or exemptions due to certain circumstances such as being a financial or medical hardship. There could be others but they had to be answered by the clerks behind the desk. We were then ask to fill out the registration form that delineated your home/business phone, date of birth, status of citizenship, residency, felony record, employment, employer's total employee count, etc. The form also asked for your signature and your social security number. With today's hot topic of identity theft, I left it out and signed the sheet and we were instructed, once completed, to forward the form to your next juror onto the next until it reached the end of the row. There was a matron to handle the bundle to the head clerk. Later, the clerk called my name to return to the desk to fill in my social security number. I was happy to do so in front of an official rather than someone else knowing this sensitive information.
I settled in for a long day of either monotony or a bit of courtroom drama. A bookshelf lined the wall near the entrance stocked with numerous titles, fiction and otherwise. Vending machines also was a welcome treat with soft drinks and snacks. Another amenity is internet access. About ten banks of terminals at the back end of the room are available for use, albeit, with suggested time limitations. I also noticed one prospect have her laptop available for her to use. She said she also been able to get Wi-Fi access somehow and been able to progress on her office project. If I knew that, I would have done the same. Others brought their mp3 players and portable game player to use. Aargh. I could have done the same.
Afterwards, the clerk came on the PA and brought us to attention for an introductory remark from one of many Justices of the NYS Supreme Court. In full regalia, she came to profusely thank us to commit time to serve as part of the judicial system. She acknowledged how an honor it is to make sure we participate in the American due process. (Here in NYS, we elect our judges to serve at our court system). She then called on the clerk to start the roll-call for the jury pool next door.
Bracing myself with each name called, I watched those selected walk towards the court officers and filed in a dual line-up. After about the fiftieth name, I still remained in the pool and not heading towards the courtrooms. Whew! I dodge a bullet. I sat there hoping my strategy would work for I was appearing on a date of my choice. It was a major holiday week - hoping the judges and attorneys were on vacation, ergo, less likely to be called on. That was the plan until they called my name on the second roll-call.
My group numbered about sixty, unusually large for a draw in my estimation. I supposed that we were to be divided further when we reach the courtrooms or parts. The court officers escorted us across to the large court building, bypassing security screening and up the third floor. The films, Twelve Angry Men and The Wrong Man, came to mind not only for topical reasons but for its place in my civic studies of NY itself. Both had settings in my hometown city and both had portrayed an element of the immigrant story. Only now the faces reflected in my jury pool were from nearly every continent of our world. Eastern Europeans, Caribbeans, Latin Americans and many more naturalized citizens from every compass points came to serve a noble duty where their own nation may or may not have the same abiding laws. Even for some, they believe it is not only a duty but a privilege.
The court bailiffs called us into the courtroom. We all filed in the back benches until every space was occupied. The presiding judge introduced himself and began his remarks. The case was of two counts of homicide, in the second degree that was postponed approximately 36 times. It was the 36 times that got to me. Where do you get to have a speedy trial when the case first was presented nearly three years ago? The judge explained that as of half an hour ago, the district attorney accepted a plea. We didn't know any further details except to say we were excused for this particular case. We were brought in as a demonstration how far the prosecution would take his case before the jury but alas, for the people of New York State, we were spared the trial. The officers escorted us out the courtroom and instructed us to have lunch before returning back at 2pm.
Once back at the assembly room, I read the newspaper and took a snooze. About 3pm, the matron called an announcement. She explained that normally we would be all here until 5pm; however, because of the light case load, we would be dismissed and duly recognized as "served our term". Hot diggity! I did it! Another surprise is that we were not expected to be called back to serve for at least six years vs. the four. One last roll-call, not for jury duty but for jury duty completion. I received a nice letter from the commissioner of jurors for our service and, as in the ending of aforementioned movies, walked out the hall and onto the sidewalks of New York.
www.nyjuror.gov
© 2006 javajoop
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Cacoethes scribendi - "Bad habit of writing"
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