The Jury Experience

by Roving Reporter Randoid

The Jury Waiting Room

Every year around springtime I get the call: report to the Ventura County Hall of Justice for jury duty. And every year I spend the day reading a novel, working a crossword puzzle, or just staring at the wall waiting to be called upon to perform my jury service. And the call never comes. Every year it’s the same, except for this year.

I was spending my time chatting with a woman from Simi Valley when the call came for a group of jurors to report to a courtroom. Her name was called and off she went. As I waited for the day to pass I couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for her as Simi Valley is on the eastern side of the county, 40 miles away. I live in Oak View, which is on the western side of the county, and, if she was selected to be on a jury, I know the drive she was facing. Years ago, I used to make the 50-mile commute to work in Simi Valley.

A short while later there was another call for jurors. Except this time the jurors were to report to the courthouse in Simi Valley, “a very unusual occurrence, one that hardly ever happens,” if the jury clerk can be believed. There were about 150 prospective jurors remaining in the jury pool and they needed 60 people. I figured that my odds were roughly 5 to 2 against that I would be selected but as I heard my name called, suddenly I didn’t feel all that lucky.

The Jury Selection Process

I’ve always wanted to be on a jury. I had never been in a courtroom let alone taken part in the judicial process. I wasn’t looking forward to my daily 100-mile round trip but I was eager for my first jury experience. Twelve prospective jurors were called along with eight alternates. My name was the last one called. Once again I assessed my chances of making it on the jury. I did the math – 12 jurors, plus 2 alternates, that’s 14 jurors. As juror number 20, I thought my chances of getting on the jury were slim. I needn’t have worried.

The judge gave us a brief overview of the case. A woman drove her SUV into the path of a motorcycle rider. The woman was unhurt but the motorcycle rider received various head, neck, and shoulder injuries. Guilt for the accident was already established, as the driver of the SUV was found to be totally responsible for the accident. The motorcycle rider (plaintiff) was suing the driver of the SUV for damages. I was disappointed that I was going to serve on a civil case and not a case that involved a verdict of guilty or not guilty. But, no matter, here I was.

Over the next two days the court labored through the jury selection process. Each juror was asked probing questions regarding their job, finances, and their personal life. Perhaps answers to all of these questions are important, but in front of 60 other strangers plus at least 12 court personnel? I couldn’t help but cringe at hearing some of the personal revelations that were offered up to the court. Putting all of that aside, the excuses that people offered to get off the jury were shocking.

This was a civil case and our task was to decide how much, if any, compensation was due to the victim. One of the jurors was a mountain bike rider and he made it obvious that he had an axe to grind with anyone that sat behind the wheel of a car. Without hearing any testimony he offered up his opinion that the plaintiff should get maximum compensation. (Uh, not exactly the open mind we’re looking for on the jury. However, if it was your intention to avoid jury duty, then it was very well-played sir. You’re excused.) Another guy said he didn’t care what evidence was presented he wasn’t going to give “this jerk” any money. (Huh? Don’t you want to hear any evidence, any evidence at all? No? Well, thank you for your service. Please crawl away.)

Well, after hearing two days worth of excruciatingly painful courtroom declarations detailing financial, physical, and emotional hardships we had a jury. Also, it came as no surprise to me that I went from prospective juror number 20 to juror number 7.

The Case

As previously mentioned, this case involved an SUV driving into the path of a motorcycle rider. Upon impact, the motorcycle rider was thrown face-first into the SUV. It was not difficult to imagine that the rider received head, neck, and shoulder injuries resulting from this accident. To that end, the plaintiff’s attorney produced several expert witnesses in the form of accident investigators and doctors to support the injury claims. As it happens, the motorcycle rider was a Vietnam veteran. And, as a result of the accident, his Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) re-surfaced. Professional care providers from the Veterans Administration testified to this also. The expert witness testimony was very convincing and the plaintiff’s attorney did an excellent job in presenting their argument.

Now it was time for the defense to present their side of the case. The first thing the defense attorney did was to try and deceive the jury. On the day of the accident there were two different people with the same last name treated for their injuries at the local hospital. One of the treated parties, the plaintiff, complained of head, neck, and shoulder injuries that were consistent with the claimed injuries. The other party, the one with the same last name as the plaintiff, had minor complaints that were not consistent with the claimed injuries. The defense attorney tried to convince us, the jury, that the plaintiff was the person with the minor complaints. The plaintiff’s attorney made short work of exposing this shameful tactic and letting the truth be known.

Besides this ruse, the defense called only one expert witness. A doctor, who examined the plaintiff for less than 10 minutes, testified that the plaintiff’s injuries were minor. Under cross-examination, the plaintiff’s attorney attacked this doctor’s credibility and competence and, in the process, ripped his testimony to shreds. After this fiasco the defense rested their case.

In short, the testimony in this case was so overwhelming in favor of the plaintiff that, if this had been a prize fight, they would have stopped it. After a week of testimony, the judge gave us his instructions, emphasizing that we should consider this case based only on what we heard in the courtroom. Based on what I heard, I thought this case was a “slam dunk” in favor of the plaintiff. Jeez, was I in for a surprise!

The Jury Deliberation Room

The jury had several issues to decide upon. The issues were prior pain and suffering, future pain and suffering, an aggravation of the PTSD issue, and medical expenses. Each issue carried a price tag of monetary damages. This was a civil case, and unlike a criminal case, a unanimous verdict was not necessary. Our jury needed a majority decision of 9-3 for each issue. Simple enough, I thought, we’ll be out of here in an hour or two. After all, the plaintiff’s attorney made mincemeat out of the defense attorney – to the winners go the spoils!

We took a vote on each issue and I received a shock. We were split completely down the middle – four jurors in favor of the plaintiff, four jurors in favor of the defense, and four jurors that couldn’t make a rational decision if their life depended upon it. The four jurors that favored the defense were adamant in their refusal to award any monetary damages. The four “no opinion” jurors were much closer to the “no monetary award” position, presumably because taking that position involved little or no thinking their part.

Over the next three days discussions became arguments, coaxing became coercing, and constructive criticism gave way to outright insults. The four “no opinion” jurors participated less and less as the discussions became more heated. The longer things dragged on, the four “no monetary award” jurors became more unified and intractable in their position. We called for court testimony to be read back in the jury room in hopes of changing some minds but it made no difference. It became obvious that court testimony was no match against a prejudiced position.

On the third day, one of the fervent “no monetary award” jurors announced that she had an important appointment and that she would be willing to change her position in order to bring the deliberations to a close. So we decided on a monetary award that I considered was still too low. For a brief time I considered changing my vote so that a decision could not be reached, thereby creating a hung jury. In the end I relented and went along with the negotiated award. The plaintiff’s medical expenses were being met so I figured that was as good as it was going to get.

Conclusion

So after reading novels and working crossword puzzles for years I finally got what I had hoped for – to be on a jury. The old saying, “Be careful what you wish for, it may come true” comes to mind. I must say that I did enjoy the trial portion of being on a jury, although that was far outweighed by the sour taste of the jury deliberation experience. Initially, I was a bit dubious at the prospect of twelve people trying to come to a decision regarding money, which required some talent for negotiation and compromise. Now, I am no longer a “bit dubious,” but I am completely dubious of a jury being competent enough to make these types of decisions. As for being on a jury, I’ve done it and I am no longer curious about being on another.

Randoid is a Robbinsense staff writer