It was about eight years ago that I got a summons from federal court. As an open-minded, upstanding citizen, I was snapped up right away for a drug and weapons case. The first day was taken up with jury selection. A slew of prospective jurors was paraded through the courtroom as people gave the judge excuses as to why they couldn't stay to enjoy the festivities. It took an entire day just to find twelve of us, along with two substitutes, who had boring enough lives that we didn't mind spending the next two weeks with other like-minded boring people.
There's a lot of down time when you're on a jury. Half our time was spent sitting around in the jury room, noshing on snacks and doing crossword puzzles and reading while the lawyers hashed stuff out with the judge away from our prying eyes and ears. The hardest part was not being able to go home and gossip about all the gory details with friends and family. (We weren't sequestered, but we had to pinky swear that we wouldn't talk about the case with anyone.)
Anyway, the highlights of the case for me were seeing all the charts and graphs and 8 x 10 color glossy photographs of the crime scene with circles and arrows and all that shit. Shell casings in kitchen drawers, loaded weapons laying around on couches next to empty Doritos bags and pizza boxes, baggies of drugs thrown down heat vents, more weapons thrown up on closet shelves. Damn, those guys know how to decorate! The most appalling thing was seeing the photos of live ammunition thrown in a baby carrier. (For me, reason enough to lock the guys up and throw away the key.) Then there was getting the play-by-play of the raid and learning about flash-bangs and battering rams and all that good stuff from the SWAT team guys. That's when the maps and diagrams of the crime scene came into play. (Sadly, though, no appearance by Officer Obie or any of the Law and Order gang.)
Finally, after a week and a half of all this swell entertainment, we got our instructions from the judge and were locked in the jury room. As we were deliberating, we could ask to see any of the evidence. The only restriction was that we couldn't have the guns and the ammunition at the same time. Go figure. Nobody wanted to admit it at first, but what we really wanted to see was the crack cocaine and the cut away pop bottles that the defendants stored their merchandise in. Why? Obviously, those of us who lead such sheltered lives were damned curious about what it looked like. I have to give credit to the drug dealers...those bottles were actually quite ingenious. And now I know what those teeny tiny baggies I occasionally see littering parks are. The things you learn!
All, in all, I found jury duty to be quite exhilarating and the judge made us feel proud that we were doing our civic duty. The government even sprang for dinner while we were deliberating. The only time I had a moment's pause was after the trial was over. The judge came in to talk to us and answer any remaining questions we had about serving on the jury. Then he said there was an officer available to escort us to our cars as we left. Huh? You mean there's danger involved? Weren't the guys led away in handcuffs? Turns out the family members who were wailing in court as the verdict was read were probably pissed. Now I get it... Oh, crap!
So, Linda, enjoy your time on the jury. Hopefully you'll enjoy it as much as I did. And when I finally get to come visit, we can sit around and drink and trade stories and laugh about it together. That is, if you make it to your car safely. Good luck with that.