Jury duty blogging
I can’t say anything about any cases I’ve been working on this week, largely because I haven’t worked on one yet. Even if I do, though, I won’t say anything – so quit expecting juicy legal gossip.
What I will write about is the general experience of sitting around in the jury pool – now on my third day. Because of the holiday, we got started on Tuesday this week, meaning our usual 5-day service mandated of Cuyahoga county jurors is shortened to 4. Good in some ways I suppose, though I could use the extra $25 we get per day, and I’d rather have a greater chance of serving on a case.
Tuesday morning was hell – a combination of our 8 a.m. check-in time at the Justice Center and the less-than-convenient public transit system (the most frequently the Rapid runs is every 10 minutes) meant I had to be up at 6:20, which was a big adjustment from my usual winter break wakeup time of noon. Turns out I didn’t have to race to the courthouse, though, as there was a huge line to check in when I arrived. I don’t know whether it was the influence of crime dramas or what, but I was not expecting that many jurors – seems like at least 200 here. Makes sense, though, now that I know more. During our instructional briefing, we were told that the Cuyahoga County Court of Common Pleas is the most trafficked court in the state, with jurisdiction over 25 percent of the statewide caseload, and 40 courtrooms. Even with 90-some percent of cases settled out of court, that still translates into a huge need for jurors.
Case in point – yesterday, after much anticipation (and as soon as I broke out the computer game), I was finally called as a prospective juror. Our gaggle of pin-wearing maybe-wannabe-jurors made our way over to the Lakeside Courthouse, only to sit around for an hour or so. After several chapters of The Brothers Karamazov, the bailiff returned to explain the delay – the parties had reached a settlement. Seems that the presence of a jury acts as a kind of deterrent, and lawyers playing chicken like to skirt the possibility of trial in order to get a better deal for their side. Interesting stuff.
Other observations:
This whole process is steeped in nationalistic language, as we’ve been thanked many times for doing our duty to our country, and there’s been a lot said about how the jury system, often described as “time-tested,” is part of the foundation of our freedom, and is “the envy of the world.” I guess there probably are a number of non-Americans who envy our access to trial by jury, though many of them probably live at Guantanimo Bay right now.
The Jury assembly area is nicely appointed, with board games, couches, magazines, a quiet room and computer desks (any guess where I spend most of my time?). We’re afforded more freedom than I expected, with trips to the cafeteria or a smoking area permitted as long as we’re fast about it.
Most people seem in pretty good spirits, and the club of business-types who hang out in the computer corner seem content to get their work done via cell phone (and rather loudly so, I might add). Everyone is in that rather-talkative and friendly state that Americans seem to get in when thrown together in unusual circumstances.
The crowd is younger than I’d have guessed, probably because many students are in the same position in which I find myself, of having delayed jury duty until their breaks. Good thing to know if your case would be impacted especially by the opinions of college students.
I suspect the whole thing is a diabolical plot to enrich the downtown economy – hundreds of jurors, many of whom would not ordinarily visit during the week, are forced by law to come down here, and they’re given a lunch break long enough to exit the building. I bet local eateries make a lot more than they would otherwise.
What I will write about is the general experience of sitting around in the jury pool – now on my third day. Because of the holiday, we got started on Tuesday this week, meaning our usual 5-day service mandated of Cuyahoga county jurors is shortened to 4. Good in some ways I suppose, though I could use the extra $25 we get per day, and I’d rather have a greater chance of serving on a case.
Tuesday morning was hell – a combination of our 8 a.m. check-in time at the Justice Center and the less-than-convenient public transit system (the most frequently the Rapid runs is every 10 minutes) meant I had to be up at 6:20, which was a big adjustment from my usual winter break wakeup time of noon. Turns out I didn’t have to race to the courthouse, though, as there was a huge line to check in when I arrived. I don’t know whether it was the influence of crime dramas or what, but I was not expecting that many jurors – seems like at least 200 here. Makes sense, though, now that I know more. During our instructional briefing, we were told that the Cuyahoga County Court of Common Pleas is the most trafficked court in the state, with jurisdiction over 25 percent of the statewide caseload, and 40 courtrooms. Even with 90-some percent of cases settled out of court, that still translates into a huge need for jurors.
Case in point – yesterday, after much anticipation (and as soon as I broke out the computer game), I was finally called as a prospective juror. Our gaggle of pin-wearing maybe-wannabe-jurors made our way over to the Lakeside Courthouse, only to sit around for an hour or so. After several chapters of The Brothers Karamazov, the bailiff returned to explain the delay – the parties had reached a settlement. Seems that the presence of a jury acts as a kind of deterrent, and lawyers playing chicken like to skirt the possibility of trial in order to get a better deal for their side. Interesting stuff.
Other observations:
This whole process is steeped in nationalistic language, as we’ve been thanked many times for doing our duty to our country, and there’s been a lot said about how the jury system, often described as “time-tested,” is part of the foundation of our freedom, and is “the envy of the world.” I guess there probably are a number of non-Americans who envy our access to trial by jury, though many of them probably live at Guantanimo Bay right now.
The Jury assembly area is nicely appointed, with board games, couches, magazines, a quiet room and computer desks (any guess where I spend most of my time?). We’re afforded more freedom than I expected, with trips to the cafeteria or a smoking area permitted as long as we’re fast about it.
Most people seem in pretty good spirits, and the club of business-types who hang out in the computer corner seem content to get their work done via cell phone (and rather loudly so, I might add). Everyone is in that rather-talkative and friendly state that Americans seem to get in when thrown together in unusual circumstances.
The crowd is younger than I’d have guessed, probably because many students are in the same position in which I find myself, of having delayed jury duty until their breaks. Good thing to know if your case would be impacted especially by the opinions of college students.
I suspect the whole thing is a diabolical plot to enrich the downtown economy – hundreds of jurors, many of whom would not ordinarily visit during the week, are forced by law to come down here, and they’re given a lunch break long enough to exit the building. I bet local eateries make a lot more than they would otherwise.
posted by onlooker at 8:45 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home