Growing up in South Africa in the 60's without television meant our entertainment came from the radio. Our family of six would gather together in the sitting room on Tuesday evenings to listen to "Consider Your Verdict." For an hour we'd immerse ourselves in a court room drama; we'd hear the evidence, and finally get a chance to weigh in our verdict with the announcement "... it's time for you to take your place on the jury ..." How I longed to be part of that.
My wish came true last week when I found myself selected as a Jurist after a routine call for Jury Duty. But, instead of one short hour of listening, this case took three and a half days, the first one and a half just choosing the jury from a poll of sixty Marin County citizens.
It seems most people don't want to do Jury duty and I'm sure this is understandable for those with jobs and other commitments. I heard many excuses, the best coming from a psychiatrist who claimed that his Jungian training would interfere with his ability to be impartial. His unconscious would be at odds with his conscious; he could not be a fit juror. Since this was a DUI case, several folks claimed they had friends or relatives who had been in accidents with drunk drivers and there was no gray area - "you drink, you're guilty." To the frustration of the judge (who claimed he'd never had to interview so many to get a jury) these people were excused.
Finally the Judge had his twelve jurors and I was one of them. We were sworn in, with right hands raised, reminding me of the ceremony to became a citizen of the United States; the silence, the awe, the seriousness of the occasion. But, instead of jubilantly leaving the hall with a crowd of new US citizens, I was here to sit quietly; to listen to and concentrate on the evidence that was about to be presented.
Police cars today are equipped with webcams so we watched a video of the accused driving her car, being pulled over by the officer, undergoing field sobriety tests, and finally being arrested to the sound of jingling handcuffs in the background. To me, she drove the car impeccably. I could see no sign of the weaving and unnecessary braking the officer insisted was prevalent. She didn't stagger when she got out of the car, she performed the tests adequately, to me, but the big problem was the breathalyzer test. She failed that abysmally.
So how could I judge the defendant not guilty of a charge when the machine proved she was? Expert witnesses for the prosecution confirmed the machine's calibration and accuracy. But my gut feeling was not guilty. I so wished the psychiatrist was one of the 12 Jurors. At least there would have been two of us squeezed between instinct and logic. The eleven other jurors seemed to have no problem with their decision: "guilty, guilty" they all quipped. It took them two hours to convince me I should record my vote along with theirs.
When I spoke with the defendant and her attorney after the case it was only to confirm my hesitation. The judge wouldn't allow their expert witness to testify that there could be other reasons for a raised blood alcohol level (BAL). Although I still have questions like why didn't they ask for a breathalyzer test in the courtroom to show us she has a naturally raised BAL? Or is her BAL not always raised? And if so in what circumstances does it get elevated, and could they provide evidence that this was the situation in the defendant's case?
I left the Civic Center with a swirling mind, feeling quite guilty myself: guilty for letting the defendant down, for letting myself down for agreeing to vote guilty when I 'felt' she was not guilty even though reason and logic dictated she was.
Next time I'm called for jury duty, perhaps my excuse to the judge will echo the words of the psychiatrist. The longing to be on a jury, evoked by my radio days, has ebbed, and I can see myself joining the ranks of citizens grabbing at any excuse to be let off the hook!
("Consider your Verdict" was written & produced by Michael Silver at the CRC Studios in Johannesburg, South Africa. You can listen to an episode.)
