For the last week I have been on Jury Duty in D.C. Superior Court. I don't no which one is worse having Jury Duty or the D.C. Superior Court building. Both very well might be equally tragic.
The Selection Process: I arrived, was given a juror number, and placed in a room they called the "juror's lounge". From this point on the number became my name, my identity. The "juror's lounge" was complete with about 60 metal chairs in rows throughout the entire room. There were television screens hanging from the ceiling. The walls were bare and there were no windows to provide any natural light. There was nothing lounge related about this room. No water or juice, nothing. Just 75-100 people crammed into this one room waiting to hear their assigned number called. I definitely felt a Trans-Atlantic slave trade moment coming on.
On the television screen appeared a welcome video. The video gave us instructions on the jury selection process and reminded us that our presence here today was in fact our "civic responsibility". The narrating voice on the video was a man, a D.C. native. How do you know he's from D.C. you might ask? Well, he replaced all of the "Th" sounds with "F", his voice was monotonous and dry, and I was waiting for him to yell out "Sursum Corda(s)" at any moment. All that was missing was the bounce beat in the background and Big G yelling out "Lynch M0b". These are all DC isms by the way folks. Go-Go+Neighborhood Reppin'+Distinct Colloquialisms=Washington, DC. They probably should have shown a "beat your feet" tutorial, it would have been way more interesting.
After hours of waiting, my number along with 50 other jurors numbers were called. We were all escorted to the courtroom. When we entered the courtroom we were given a questionnaire and a pencil. "Good Morning Ladies and Gentleman" the judge said. The replies were muddled with frustration. "Ladies and Gentleman", he said "We just signed Donovan McNabb, we are the greatest city in the world, and all of you are here today honoring your civic responsibility so let's try this again, GOOD MORNING LADIES AND GENTLEMAN." This time everyone replied a little more livelier with a few side conversations on their like or disdain for the Washington Redskins's signing of McNabb. Fourteen potential jurors sat in the juror box, while the rest of us sat in the seats in the audience section of the courtroom. Individually we were to approach the judge's bench with our answers to the questionnaire. The prosecution and defense attorneys along with the defendant would be present at the bench as we stated our answers. Out of the 40 of us present only 14 of us would be selected as jurors on this trial.
So that the conversations at the judge's bench aren't heard by everyone the judge puts on what is called "The Husher". "The Husher" is a sound of air that is controlled by the judge with a button behind his bench. I must admit "The Husher" fascinated me. You could hear the air but you couldn't feel it. I can't tell you how many times I just wanted to run up behind the judge's bench and press "The Husher" button.
After the long drawn out elimination process yours truly was selected as one of 14 jurors to listen this trial, take notes, and deliberate on the facts of this case and come to a unanimous verdict beyond a reasonable doubt.
The Trial: Criminal Case. United States vs. let's just call him Mr. Brown Eyes. There were three charges brought against Mr. Brown Eyes. Count I: Assault with intensive injury, Count II: Threat, Count III: Obstruction of Justice.
Here is the story:
Mr. Brown Eyes was having an affair with an Italian woman. The Italian woman is married with a child and lives in an apartment in close proximity to Mr. Brown Eyes. The neighbors of The Italian Woman, Mr. & Mrs. Alcoholic find out about the affair between Mr. Brown Eyes and The Italian Woman. One evening on the back stoop of the apartment building Mr. & Mrs. Alcoholic were drunk as skunks. Mrs. Alcoholic had fallen down in her drunken state and hurt herself. Hearing the commotion of Mr. & Mrs. Alcoholic, The Italian woman and her husband (let's call him Soft & Dry) came outside to see what was going on. The Italian woman saw Mrs. Alcoholic's state and suggested that Mr. Alcoholic call the ambulance immediately. Mr. Alcoholic in his drunken state was infuriated by this request and spit on The Italian woman. Mr. Alcoholic then told her husband, Soft & Dry, "your wife is a hoe and she's f-ing Mr. Brown Eyes". Soft & Dry did not react to the spitting or the accusation that his wife was having an affair. He just simply said "ssh everyone let's all just calm down". The Italian woman upset that she had just been spit on and outed to her husband about her affair decided to call Mr. Brown Eyes. She calls Mr. Brown Eyes and tells him that Mr. Alcoholic spit on her and told her husband about their affair. Enraged, Mr. Brown Eyes gets in his car, drives to their apartment, gets out of his car, walks up to Mr. Alcoholic and punches him in the face. Mr. Alcoholic falls to the ground and Mr. Brown Eyes stands over him and continues to punch him 2-3 more times. After he finishes he gets in his car and goes home. As a result of the punching Mr. Alcoholic had to have reconstructive surgery on his eye and pieces of fractured bone removed from his nostril.
The witnesses called by the prosecution were Soft & Dry, an ambulance EMT that had arrived to the scene prior to Mr. Brown Eye's arrival, the doctor who operated on Mr. Alcoholic, and the detective assigned to the case.
When Soft & Dry took the stand, he in his passive aggressive nature said he didn't see Mr. Brown Eyes punch Mr. Alcoholic, but did see him standing over Mr. Alcoholic while he was on the ground. Soft & Dry also said that after the events of that night occurred Mr. Brown Eyes called him and asked him to lie to the police about what he saw.
The ambulance EMT whom we will call Sinus Condition said she saw Mr. Brown Eyes, pull up, get out of his car, and yell, "M-f-er I told you to keep your mouth shut! I'm going to kill you!". Sinus Condition also testified that she saw Mr. Brown Eyes punch Mr. Alcoholic in his face.
The prosecution never called the complaining witness, Mr. Alcoholic.
The defense called only one witness, Mr. Brown Eyes. Mr. Brown Eyes admitted to being there for 5 minutes on the night of the crime. He says he didn't punch Mr. Alcoholic and never even came in close proximity to him. He was only there checking on his lover The Italian woman. He testified when he saw she was OK, he left.
After the closing arguments. The jury deliberated for almost 3 days. As I was discussing the case with my fellow jurors I began to question the validity in the American judicial system. We as Americans suffer from what is called the "God Complex". We feel that it is our responsibility to decide the fate of another person's life. Our "civic responsibility". We are not God. We did not give life, we should not tamper with another person's life, and we should not take any one's life away from them. I do believe if you commit a crime you should have to face the consequences however, I believe the verdict should be left solely up to the judge who has studied the law and fully understands it. Why is it that we are summoned to tear down civilians and not summoned to do community service projects to uplift civilians?
As I walked back out into the courtroom after days of deliberation. I looked at Mr. Brown Eyes. I looked out in the audience of the courtroom. There was an elderly woman watching and waiting. Was that his mother? His grandmother? As the foreman read the verdict Mr. Brown Eyes turned red, and his eyes were glazed over with tears full of fear and hurt. The woman in the audience wept and trembled.
At night all I hear is that woman's weeping. When I close my eyes all I see is Mr. Brown Eyes, whose eyes weren't so brown anymore.
And, this is my "civic responsibility"? Is this another burden added to my purse? What have I done?
Case Closed.
