Tales from the Jury Pool

Tuesday was my first day of jury duty and it was…uneventful. I sat in the courtroom for about an hour and a half before we ever received any instruction. So I sat in a room full of strangers for an hour, waiting.

The courtroom itself looked as if it came straight from 1970. The black lacquer finish of the long, wooden pews seemed to be the newest décor in the room, and, judging from the dull finish, it’s been a while since they were re-finished. The furnishings (Judge’s chair, counsel table and chairs, jury chairs, etc.) had the distinct look of Naugahyde®.

As I sat there, immersed in early 1970s nostalgia, I thought about the different ways people respond to a room full of strangers. There were those who sat quietly reading. Some saw others they knew and sat and talked with them. Others seemed to talk to whoever sat near them, whether they knew them or not. Still others, well actually it was only one, talked on their phones to, seemingly, everyone they’ve ever known.

I’m a people watcher. An observer. Therefore, I observed. I didn’t watch so much as listen. I sat on one side of the courtroom, so I couldn’t hear the entire courtroom. There were several conversations going throughout the room. I was able to catch snippets of a few.

I have a few reasons for being a “people watcher.” One is that I am, as I’ve written before, a colossal introvert. Often I don’t talk to people I know, much less someone I met moments ago in this month’s jury pool. My favorite reason for people watching is slightly left-of-center. I watch, I listen, I observe. Then I make up little stories involving the people I see and hear.

Why are they here? Why did they say that? Who are they talking to on the phone? Where did they come from? Where are they going? The possibilities are endless.

Here are some things I overheard my fellow potential jurors say and the stories I concocted vis-à-vis the quotations:

“I hit my brakes when I shouldn’t have.”

Shelia was at home Monday when the snow began to fall. She watched the weather and wondered if she should go to work or report for jury duty. The ache in her back reminded her that a day off would be welcome, but, being a single mother and living paycheck to paycheck, she could not afford to lose the hours.

The forecast called for snow mixed with rain. No accumulations. A look outside told a different story. The ground had taken on a much lighter shade as the snow continued to collect. Shelia continued to watch the news hoping for some information on school closings. There was none. She decided to trust the weatherman.

She woke her kids (Sam and Greg, a girl and a boy respectively) and helped them prepare for the school day. Clothes. Breakfast. Brushed teeth. Homework check. Last minute corrections.

She checked the announcements scrolling across the screen for school delay news one last time. Still nothing, so it’s off to school then the courthouse.

The first 5 minutes of the drive to drop off the kids was uneventful. The side roads were snow-covered, but not slick. The steady traffic on the main roads maintained two snowless tracks for Shelia’s tires to follow. After the initial calm, chaos struck.

The snowfall grew heavier and heavier. Visibility shrank to only a few feet. The tracks in the road, her only reprieve from the slippery snow, began to disappear. Her slightly-too-old tires began to lose traction.

Shelia slowed her vehicle. As she made a slight adjustment in her lane position the car slid slightly to the left. In a moment of panic she hit the brakes. Hard. She jerked the wheel back to the right, over-compensating for the slip. The slip quickly became a skid. The tail of the car whipped to the left. Shelia screamed. The kids screamed. The car spun wildly as it continued forward.

After 3, 4, or 5 spins (she lost count) the car finally stopped. Shelia sat motionless for what seemed like 3 eternities. A sudden knock on her window snapped her back to reality. She let out a small yelp. Her white-knuckled hands, which she thought might never release the steering wheel, flew to her mouth.

She looked around the car. The kids looked a little shaken, but hey were unhurt. The car had not left the roadway or hit anything.

With a trembling she rolled down her window. The Good Samaritan at her window asked if she needed help. Finally she composed herself, thanked him, and said she was fine. “Everyone is OK.”

Her head dropped to the steering wheel. She sat there a moment, then turned the car around and headed toward the school.

“After 16 years, I’m right back where I started.”

Jim’s arrived early on his first day at Billings Tool & Die. January 18, 1994. He tried a semester of college. It wasn’t for him. Too many books. Too many pompous GTAs.

He began on the production line. It was quickly evident that he had an aptitude for the tool & die business. His production manager immediately noticed Jim’s leadership qualities. Within a few months he was promoted to shift supervisor.

By the end of his first year Jim had established himself as a top employee. As the years passed Jim climbed to higher and higher positions. Finally after 10 years on the job he was promoted to Plant Manager. The top man at his location.

In early 2008 the economy took a downturn. The nation was steeped in a recession. The tool and die industry soon felt the effects. Jim began laying off workers and cutting back the hours of those who stayed on. Through his ingenuity his plant continued to operate at a profit. That wouldn’t last, though.

In December of last year Billings shut down their Lauderdale County operations. Jim and his few remaining employees were out of work.

Jim, having only ever worked in this field, looked at an uncertain future and an almost certain career change.

“I didn’t want to as soon as I saw it in the mail.”

I couldn’t do much with this one. I knew he was talking about receiving his jury summons. I’m pretty sure no one in that room wanted to be there.

“I’ll be dismissed quickly I’m sure.”

At that point my ears locked onto one particular voice. She was loud. She was brash. And she was apparently scrolling through her phone list calling everyone she could think to call. I had no need to make up any stories, because I knew, from her end of each conversation, exactly what was going on with every person she called.

She was called to jury duty about a year ago, but she was struck from the jury because it was a lawsuit involving a Champion Paper Company logging truck and you know Bob (or Stan or Bill) he’s involved in all of that logging stuff.

Someone just got out of the hospital. They were going to Steamboat, CO later in the week to go snow skiing. She watched some skiing on TV the other day. Those guys did some crazy jumps. She went skiing a couple of years ago and she was good. She couldn’t do all of the jumps though because of her knee. She tried, but it just hurt too much. Since they were going skiing she would no longer feel sorry for him. But he should call if they need anything.

As it turned out, I was dismissed before the selection process even began. I have to report back tomorrow for another shot. I don’t expect to be selected. But I do expect to come back with some stories. Even if they are stories that I make up.