My Jury Duty Experience ...or...Why Grandmothers Shouldn't Serve Jury Duty

Citizenship sometimes comes with a pricetag. This week I had the opportunity to serve jury duty in Lubbock county TX. That in and of itself is a story. For laid back Texans, there is a lot of hoopla involved in getting two hundred independent minded folks in their place at a specified time. I, of course, got there almost 45 minutes early to secure a close parking spot and to make sure I had everything I needed. As the clock passed 9:00 a steady stream of Levi-clad adults streamed into the large meeting room. The judge actually waited an extra 15 minutes past time for us to start to allow for the late-comers (In Randall County where I previously served, the judge called roll at 9:00 and sent the Sheriff out to round-up any no-shows). The system here is to seat juries for 5 courts at the same time, hence the rather large and unmanageable group.

After 3 hours of swearing in and hearing the endless stream of people with excuses as to why they should be exempt from service, the remaining 145 names were entered (manually, I assume) into a computer and several dozen names were randomly chosen to serve as the Jury Pool. This process took the better part of an hour. We then waited a half hour or so and were assigned to specific cases. One of the group, erupted into a loud and audible cheer when it was announced that their case had settled and they could go home. As they pranced out of the room, the rest of us settled into another sitting spell and finally were called to get in lines like going to lunch in Elementary School (complete with the caution to be quiet and to stay in the correct line) and then came the announcement that my line would be marching together three blocks to the county court house. I tried to look calm as I girded up my loins and launched out for the longest walk I have made in 3 years. I remembered high school PE as I started the march at the head of the line and finished a distant last place when I breathlessly and wheezingly caught up with my group at the elevator.

After all of this, I was shocked that my name was 4th in line for jury selection.

The case was a DWI involving a 20-something frat boy who had pulled into a party off campus, parked his pickup on a neighbor's grass and sidewalk, drank himself silly at the party, got into his truck and, according to the defense attorney did the responsible thing by sleeping off his drunk in the shelter of his truck. He also pointed out that this occurred in January, so the poor lad had to turn on the engine for warmth.

The story breaks down when we saw the police car video of his truck running with the lights on and the break lights also on. The kid was sitting behind the wheel with his foot on the brake, passed out and laying across the seat of the truck. As the tape rolls, the policeman repeatedly knocks on his window trying to awaken him with absolutely no success. Then the tape shows the brake lights go off and the truck takes off, bumps down the curb, crosses the side street and comes to a stop at the far curb. The cop runs to the truck and the kid is still asleep. He again repeatedly hits the window to wake him up, and finally takes his baton and breaks out the passenger window to unlock the truck. The boy still does not wake up. The policeman unlocks the truck, takes it out of gear, wakes the boy and takes him to jail.

The defense rested without putting on any evidence, but in closing argument stressed the responsibility and reliability of the lad.

In the jury room, we spent hours listening to women with pink hair saying "I know he has learned his lesson", "He didn't actually drive the car, how could he be DWI?", and "Can we get a dictionary so we can define the word..operate?" DID THEY THINK THE TRUCK STARTED, LOCKED AND SHIFTED INTO DRIVE BY ITSELF??? I HATE IT WHEN THAT HAPPENS!