This Is No Fantasy

I have often commented (to those close enough to me to not immediately characterize me as a loon) that I sometimes wonder if my life is not unlike a "Truman Show" of sorts. I have from time to time experienced days when stranger after stranger seem to look at me a little longer than normal. As if I had something written on my forehead that caught their eye. I have always discounted this theory for the simple fact that it is incredibly egocentric to believe that others' lives are arranged merely as adjuncts to your own.

Anyway, today was another day of those kind of looks. However, the looks took the form of actions during the course of the trial which I was selected on Tuesday to sit as a juror. I have taken my responsibility to the court and the community very seriously, refusing to even discuss the case with my wife. This was not an attempt to place emphasis on the matter that was being deliberated but a effort on my part to stay as true to the process as possible out of respect for the process itself.

The case I heard involved a man who admitted stabbing another man but claimed he had done so in self defense. After hearing the evidence Wednesday I was left to ponder the details of the case overnight and came to a conclusion. The basis of my argument against self defense was that the victim was stabbed twice in the torso by the defendant. I also had come to the conclusion that the defendant could have left the apartment and defused the situation as an alternative.

The state's counsel used both of these arguments in her closing statement. After we were given the indictment and escorted to the jury room it was our job to elect a foreperson. Yours truly was quickly nominated and there were no objections from anyone. This was not something I had wanted to do but I reluctantly accepted.

And this is when the Truman Effect kicked in. All of the court movies seemed rolled into one. I had to handle a juror who said outright that he was changing his vote to agree with everyone else so that he could go back to work. I had to handle a younger woman who I think was reluctant to pass judgement unless 100% sure. On the second ballot that we took to see where everyone stood, I had one ballot come back "yes." All of the ballots from the first vote were "guilty" or "not guilty." Why now "yes" except to test whether I would request a third ballot to make sure that the vote was unanimous? It just started feeling like some of the testing I have done for positions in the fire department where they put you in a situation and then see how you behave as people lob grenades at you. Come to think of it, a large continuous stretch of the defendant's closing argument he made eye contact with me.

In the end, we returned a "guilty" verdict. I was worried that I would have to read it aloud as I have in the last day lost my voice. I was relieved to find that all it entailed on my part once in the courtroom was to hand the written verdict to the bailiff.

The defendant had cried, what seemed genuine tears, at different points in the trial. However, when the verdict was read there were no tears. He sat emotionless. After being released a knowledgeable little bird told me that, "he was a very bad man," and that this wasn't his first time stabbing someone. Come to think of it, at the time the verdict was read, there were six more deputies in the room than normal. I confess I was somewhat relieved at hearing this. It washed away any fears I had that we were convicting an innocent man.

If this is a Truman Show then everyone involved in what I just wrote might be reading. On the off chance that they are let me say that I thank my fellow jurors. My experience has been educational and pleasant for the most part. Further, I encourage anyone called to jury duty to approach it not as a hassle, but as an opportunity to contribute to a society which so many of us are quick to criticize.

All rise.