Verdict Is In On My Day In Court

       The logo at the top left of the envelope in my mailbox made me groan out loud: “County of Montgomery Jury Selection Board,” it read. “This is ridiculous,” I muttered under my breath, surveying my memory to determine that this was my third jury summons in the last six years.

       Back in the house, I dutifully went to the website and completed the juror questionnaire. Then I sat back to wait … and hope that when “The Day” came on which I was supposed to call after 4 p.m. to find out whether I actually had to report for jury duty the following day, my streak of luck would continue, and I would learn that I was excused.  I had been so fortunate the last two times, but something in my gut told me my luck had run out.

       There is an old saying that “every man deserves his day in court.” Unfortunately, my gut was absolutely correct and so the other week I got that day in court, from the perspective of a juror. I wish I could say it was a gratifying experience and that at the end of the day I felt as if I had contributed something of value. Unfortunately, I did not feel that way. However, I did learn a few things that may be worth sharing. So here is my list of the “Top Seven Things I Learned on Jury Duty.”

       Number 7:  Montgomery County is way too large to have just one courthouse, located in Norristown. Even the SPCAs get this: there are three of those.

       Living in a county that covers 487 square miles creates hardship for many who are summoned for jury duty.  In addition to the distance, jury duty requires travel during rush hours. Graciously, my husband offered to drive me to Norristown. We live about one mile from the Berks County border. Although we allowed 75 minutes, we barely arrived on time.

       Number 6:  Whoever is responsible for the Montgomery County courthouse’s policies, needs to get out more.

       When was the last time you were told you could not bring a “Walkman” someplace? 

       Number 5:  Jury duty in Montgomery County is not necessarily a user- friendly experience, especially if you have physical problems.

       Suffering from a back problem that makes walking painful and having knees that are poster children for needing replacements, I considered asking for a medical excuse, but wanting to be a diligent citizen, I decided I could probably survive. I spent an hour looking for handicapped access information at the courthouse website and Googled at length, searching for information. I was rewarded with one article that talked about construction of ramps beginning in 2007 and being completed-- this year!

       My husband dropped me in front of the courthouse where I gazed with dismay at the lengthy climb up seemingly endless steps to reach the entrance. Craning my neck left and right, I saw no signs about handicapped access and looking up, I saw no alternative entrances. With dread, I began the painful climb. At the top, I discovered a step-free entrance from a side street, but there was no way to know it was there from the street below.

       Adding to the day’s discomforts were the seats in the courtroom that provided little legroom, the lack of adequate ventilation in the jury marshaling room, and the need to walk up and down short flights of stairs in order to navigate inside the courthouse.

       Number 4:  Not everyone who works at the courthouse is pleasant.

       Walking slowly, back and knees still pained from the climb to the halls of justice, an employee greeted me.

       “Drive here?” she curtly asked in my direction.

       “Yes,” I replied.

       “Where’s your parking ticket?” she tossed back.

       “Well, my husband dropped me off,” I helpfully explained.

       “Well then you didn’t drive, did you?” she triumphantly retorted, causing me to feel like an imbecile. I looked around, hoping no one had heard what a loser I was as a juror.

       Number 3:  In our era of technology, you might plan to entertain yourself with your smart phone during down time. Forget that!  

       You cannot play games, check email, text, or in any way communicate with the outside world while you sit around and wait. And don’t expect to be able to update your family about whether they will see you before the end of the millennium. The cell signal in the jury “lounge” area is of the almost non-existent  “one bar” variety, and a trip to the courtroom requires that you check your phone.

       Number 2:  Jury duty these days is a woman’s world.

       During the high profile Zimmerman trial I was dumbfounded that the meager jury of six consisted of all women, but when I looked around the Jury Marshaling Room, I noted that women vastly outnumbered men. Ultimately, the jury chosen from among this pool of candidates was comprised of ten women and two men. Could it be that men work harder to get excused on the grounds of working to support families? If so, this seems like a throwback to the era when the woman of the house stayed home to bake chocolate chip cookies. See "Walkman" in number 2, above!

       Number 1:  Entering the courtroom to be questioned as a potential juror, I saw an average looking person sitting in a wheelchair, wearing a clunky metal brace on his leg. His wife sat on a regular chair next to him; she looked sad. He was not playing to the crowd for sympathy, but it was clear he was pained and uncomfortable. Apparently this was either an accident or malpractice case. My immediate thoughts were, “Give him the money; he deserves it for his suffering. Stop wasting our time and let us go home.”

       Those thoughts led to the number one thing I learned on jury duty: no one should ever put me on a jury!

       I used to feel apologetic for my tendency towards making snap judgments, but reading the first 25 pages or so of Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking, by Malcolm Gladwell, confirmed my belief that snap judgements can be valid ones. Why suffer from “analysis paralysis” as a result of being burdened by too much information?

       Fortunately, the attorney in the room whose client would be disadvantaged by my opinion must have seen it on my face. At 4 p.m. I was released with “the thanks of the court,” and trudged off to reclaim my phone, wondering how far I would have to trek for a cell signal to call my husband to retrieve me. But I still hope that poor man got his money, and no matter how much it might have been, I am still certain it was not enough!