Posts Written By L Parker Brown

I arrive at the courthouse 30 minutes early and upon entering the building – and before being instructed by the first security officer to do so — I remove my coat and put it and my purse on the conveyor metal detector. I also empty the pockets of my black jeans and place my house keys and cell phone in a small basket before entering the walk-through metal detector. I know the drill. Once on the other side, I am greeted by a second security officer who asks me to “Extend your arms.” I do as I am told and he waves a scan wand in front of me and then says “Turn around, please.” And he wands the back. “Thank you, mam.”

Collecting all my stuff, I take the escalator to the floor where the jurors’ office is located. I know exactly where the room is, because I have done this routine too many times before. I also know that the sign-in desk doesn’t open until 8 o’clock; another 20 minutes, so I walk pass the office and take a seat nearby, in one of the numerous empty chairs that line both walls of the corridor. A number of other early birds are already seated.

Any experienced juror can easily identify the first timers when they arrive on the floor. The newbies come off of the escalator wearing a serious expression, and after looking at the room number on the summons and then back at the number outside the jurors’ office they walk away from  the office, because the number on the wall does not match the number printed on the summons. For whatever reason, it has been that way for years.

The novices, believing that they are at the wrong room, proceed to the opposite end of the long hallway, checking each room number as they pass. At the far end of the corridor, they arrive at the open double doors that have “Jurors’ Lounge” in large letters affixed above the doors. The confused jurors-to-be peek inside the lounge and seeing that the room is empty they turn around and retrace their path. Walking back toward the escalators and carefully checking each room number again, they ultimately arrive back at the sign-in office. Because the number on the wall outside of the office is different from the number on the summons, they assume that they are at the wrong room.

Those of us seated along the walls watch them parade back and forth a couple of times and we wonder when they will figure out what we seasoned jurors already know – that they actually have arrived at the right place. Eventually, the newbies will ask someone for directions or just figure it out themselves; then, perhaps feeling slightly embarrassed, they take a seat and wait – like the rest of us.  

At 8 o’clock sharp the clerk announces over the PA system, “Ladies and gentlemen. Please form a line. When you reach the counter, have your summons and a photo ID in hand.”  We veteran jurors rush toward the front of the line so that we can register and hurry to the lounge, because we know that the first ones into the lounge get their seat of choice.

Once in the sign-in room, I hand my summons and driver’s license to the clerk whose face I cannot see, because she is short and the large computer monitor on the counter is blocking her head. She asks me to confirm my address and phone number. Apparently, satisfied that I am not an imposter – Who would want to be? – the clerk gives me a badge holder and a sheet of paper with FAQs on one side. On the reverse side of the page, near the top, is a statement informing jurors how much we will be paid for our service. Below that are the Evacuation Procedures. Considering the perilous times we live in, you never know when you might need the latter information. The clerk dismisses me with the instructions, “Report to the Jurors’ Lounge. You will be called by your last name and juror number.”  [To be continued in Part III.]