Adventures in Jury Duty

Aug 5, 2024
4 min read

Updated: Apr 14

Day 1

I would like to note that the moment I opened the letter and saw JURY SUMMONS in huge, intimidating letters at the top of the page, all I could think of was the short story “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson (most famously known as the author of “The Haunting of Hill House.”)

If you aren’t familiar with it… Google it.

First of all, there are a lot of people here. And I mean… A LOT.

Second of all… did you know that potential jurors can in fact:

1. Bring their cell phones and other electronic devices into the courthouse

2. Bring snacks and drinks into the courthouse

3. Bring anything that makes them more comfortable as long as it isn’t anything illegal into the courthouse

I … did not know this.

I’ve been in here for a lot of domestic violence cases (I was a professional DV Advocate locally) and the rules used to be no cellphones, etc.… so. Again… I did not know this.

THREE HOURS LATER:

I would like to sincerely thank the Floyd County government for:

1. Giving me a parking ticket while I served jury duty.

2. Giving me a gift card for serving jury duty so I could pay for the parking ticket that the county served me with by using the funds the county provided to me that I initially provided to them with my tax dollars.

I’ll donate the remaining funds to a charity that fights government corruption… and it may in fact be the best $10 I’ll ever spend.

Day 2

8:45 a.m.

The good and loyal citizens of Floyd County are all gathered to do our civic duty. The coffee in our Stanleys is hot which complements this 80 degree room well.

Never has there been a roomful of more qualified, completely non-biased citizens eager to bring justice to those who need it most. While the man to my far right is asleep with his head lolling against the wall, I know he must be dreaming of putting criminals behind bars — where they belong.

9:12 a.m.

A gentleman asked whether we were allowed to Doordash food delivery up here to our prestigious jury chamber. He received no response.

9:41 a.m.

Asleep Man has graduated from having his head leaning back against the wall to being fully and unashamedly slumped forward. Dead asleep.

There is another person here who is wearing a reflective vest clearly for some type of roadwork. So I ask you — who is at risk out there without him? How will the road workers and drivers and pedestrians stay safe? How, indeed. It’s a Catch 22 with critical, potentially deadly consequences. All I can tell you is we must hope and pray for the best.

10:15 a.m.

A fearless and dedicated Floyd County employee opens the door to the Prestigious Jury Chamber every so often, then closes it again…. then opens it. Then closes it. Without a word.

One can only deduce this is a strategic ploy to ensure our minds are sharp and we are ready to bring down the heavy arm of justice at a moment’s notice. Do not fret, good sir. We are ready.

And — when the time comes — I personally pledge to wake up all my fellow Jury members so we can embark on our quest. You have my word.

10:45 a.m.

A hush settles over the Chamber. What once was excited, frenetic murmuring is now a low, muted whisper of … should I say it? Of resignation.

I have to admit, I am beginning to wonder whether my fellow Jury members are as committed to the cause as I once thought. As the minutes tick by, I am afraid we may lose sight of why we — The Chosen Ones — are here in the first place.

Maybe I should ask the Doordash question again?

10:55 a.m.

We have been released. It is quite amazing how awake everyone suddenly became.

Sadly, there is no resolution. Justice must wait yet another day. However — I will not lose sight of our purpose.

Onward and upward, my friends.

Day 3: AKA: How a judge and room of prosecutors thought for 5 whole seconds that I casually admitted to burying children for my own personal enjoyment

~ An American Memoir

I FINALLY got to do the thing where I raised my right hand and - as I swore to do - TOLD THE TRUTH.

I can't decide what was my favorite part.

Here's a short list:

Part I

Was it when they asked if we knew the Law Enforcement Officer on the prosecution side of the case - and I said yes?

And when asked how, I said because I worked at the RN-T and also did freelance writing for several publications and quoted him a whole lot - and that I also know him just from BEING A ROMAN WHO GOES ANYWHERE IN TOWN AT ALL?

Part II

Or maybe it was it when they asked if we knew the District Attorney and I said yes?

"How?" Because 1. I'm a journalist and have talked to her on the phone a bit, quoted her a whole lot, and 2. I worked as a DV advocate on cases managed by her team who puts abusers behind bars.

Them: "Do you still work as an advocate?"

Me: (smiles) “For fun."

(Yes. Putting abusers behind bars is my idea of good-old-fashioned-public-service fun.)

Part III

Or MAYBE it was it when they asked if anyone had ever been arrested... and I raised my hand?

And then got the exciting and not-at-all-embarassing opportunity to reveal to this silent roomful of strangers how I got arrested for simply being present at an off-campus college shindig years and years and years ago? As a 20 year old in the presence of alcohol?

Then I added, "We Berry kids know how to party."

But THEY HEARD: "We bury kids, and have a party."

...Yeah. That part.

That part was my favorite.

Don't worry, friends. Once everyone settled down, I was able to provide clarification.

And I have since learned something very important:

I am - in fact - not qualified to serve as a juror.

Be an AmeriCAN. Not an AmeriCAN’T.