We were each given a steno book and a pencil, but warned that excessive note-taking could cause us to miss important comments. Ms. Allen, attorney for the defense, explained that the case we were about to hear was all about the charge, not the crime. Something about assault vs. attempted murder. Richard Quinones presented that the case was clear enough to go for the more serious charge.
For 2.5 days we listened to testimony, including that of the victim and of the E.R. doctor who treated the victim’s stab wounds. We heard witnesses who pieced together the events leading to the attack, some credible, some fraught with obvious mistruths. One was openly hostile, two admitted to criminal records themselves.
I was mesmerized. At some point on the first day, I was elected to replace Juror #3, a woman whom for some reason was deemed unfit to continue. (I suspect it was a language barrier.) Now, at least, I would have a vote at the end of it all. Every time we left the room we were reminded by the judge not to discuss the case with anyone, including fellow jurors. It was an awkward kind of atmosphere; how do you not say anything about that which consumes your every thought? “Sure is warm out today. How about those Kings?”
Just when the trial was at its most interesting, something completely unexpected occurred: the prosecution rested. Huh? Does that mean he’s done? The defense had nothing further. Things began to happen quickly, with Judge Feldstern giving us new instructions and reading to us an eleven page document on how to deliberate. I felt my pulse actually quicken. We were about to go into a private room and be allowed to finally talk about the case.
The jury room was chilly, and contained exactly twelve chairs around a long conference table. The bailiff kindly explained that if we needed anything at all, we were to press a buzzer once. When we reached a verdict, we should press the buzzer twice. When the door closed behind him, we all sat in awkward silence for a few moments before someone finally suggested we select a foreperson. The gentleman to my left, a confident, personable guy named Jesse who reminded me of Terry O’Quinn, had prior experience and so we thrust the responsibility onto him. We took an immediate, preliminary vote on folded squares of steno paper which we threw into a conveniently placed basket. The count was 9 to 3, Guilty. After an hour of discussion, the second vote yielded the same. After a break and more discussion, a few of the jurors asked for testimony to be re-read. We were told we’d have to wait until morning and were dismissed for the day.
On the second day of deliberations, the court reporter came in twice to read back sections of testimony. Two of those originally voting “not guilty” changed their votes as our discussions progressed. Just before noon, we took a final vote, with the one dissenter upset and conflicted. We all assured her to vote however she felt strongest, that no one would hold her responsible for anything but honesty. She ultimately voted with the rest of us, although I felt she was unhappy with her vote.
Ultimately, after about 5.5 hours, a guilty verdict was reached. I believe that all but one juror felt confident with the conviction. Just before noon, Jesse pressed the buzzer twice and we waited for the bailiff to lead us back to the courtroom.
To be continued…
I have been on several juries..maybe because I feel it actually is my duty and don’t try to get off..both civil and criminal, and I am always struck by how seriously the folks on the jury take it all.