My two-cents worth and then some. An online journal by LP Brown.

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Dedicated to Mrs. Sarah S. Pete — my Aunt Sarah

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Without question we are all mortal beings, here for just a moment in time. But we may know people who possess such a tenacious spirit that – in our own wishful thinking – we believe that they will live forever. My Aunt Sarah was one of those people.

You touched so many hearts. Your parents and brothers who preceded you to the other side, your sisters, nieces, nephews, cousins, husband, children, grandchildren, and friends – in some way, whether you greeted us with a heartwarming hug, or cheered us up when we were feeling down, or just made us laugh – you touched us all. We will forever remember your beautiful smile and your clever sense of humor; the jokes you always told that made us laugh; your compassion, generosity, kindness, and the unconditional love that you so freely gave. All that you were to each of us individually – was more than we could ever ask for. You had a way of making everyone feel special.

For me, personally, you were not just my Aunt Sarah, but a second mother. You were my close friend and confidant. When I find myself wondering why God called you home on Thanksgiving Day, I think that perhaps it was fitting, because – it’s not like I will ever forget you – but it will be an annual reminder that I am always thankful for the times we shared and the blessing of having had you in my life. And as much as I will miss you, I am also thankful that you will not have to suffer pain anymore. 

God gave our family an angel, and she was YOU, and every time we look at the sun shining brightly in the morning sky or the moon and stars at night, we will remember you, and forever hold you dear in our heart. You were a woman of strength and conviction and were always supportive of your immediate and extended family. You were a teacher in so many ways other than your chosen profession and you have surely left your inscription upon the world.

We will miss you so very much, Aunt Sarah, and we will love you always.

 

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Jury Duty – Part IV of IV

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On this day, there will be no movie shown. I believe that gadget-toting prospective jurors encouraged an end to that procedure. Fine with me. I begin to read my kindle book, and as the hours drag on I finish five chapters of Steve Jobs biography. Occasionally, I glance around the room and see that nearly two-thirds of the people are either keying on their laptop, stroking their iPad, or operating some other electronic device. (THFWF – thank God for wi-fi). The dozen or so people without e-toys are reading paperback books or newspapers and those with  nothing to occupy their minds are either napping or starring into space.

Occasionally, the clerk enters the room and calls jurors from a list of about 50 names. I am not included. Yaaa! The people whose names and numbers were called are instructed to meet the clerk in the hallway outside the lounge and she will take them to the judge’s chamber.  This procedure occurs a few more times as the day drags on. 

After sitting in the lounge all morning any minor distraction is welcome. Otherwise, the only change of venue comes when I go to the restroom or when we all are released for a one hour lunch break.  Then, we return to the lounge to wait, and wait, and wait some more.

While some, perhaps many, Americans willingly embrace jury service, face it, not everyone shares your enthusiasm. During my entire lifetime, I can only recall two people who told me that they didn’t mind jury service. One made no bones about the fact that she felt that jury service was a civic duty and she thought it was odd (or maybe even unpatriotic) that I resent being summoned.  I’m willing to bet that a huge percentage of people would tell you honestly that they would rather take a daily dose of castor oil for a week, than spend all day sitting in a jury pool. I’ve even known of people who said that when they receive a summons they discard it and never report for jury duty. I don’t know how they get away with that. I dare not do it, because I just know that if I did, I would be the first one caught, fined or subjected to a penalty worse than jury duty. 

In an essay titled Jury Duty is Your Civic Obligation Timothy M. Heap wrote, “The Sixth Amendment to the Constitution guarantees our right to a trial by jury. For this system to work, we must be active participants in the system.” Heap, I have this to say about that. “To each his own.” 

At mid-afternoon on my most recent jury call, those of us who did not get selected for a jury were released. I breathed a sigh of relief knowing that it would be another two years before my name would come up again on the jury roll. And I hope that by then a computer malfunction would have permanently deleted me from the system. Of course, the powers that be would just pull my name from the DMV or registered voters’ list and put me right back on the jury roll.

I must say that I made good use of my time while sitting in the jury lounge this go round. When I grew tired of reading, I wrote this post.

 

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Jury Duty – Part III of IV

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Once inside the jurors’ lounge some of us prefer to seclude ourselves from the other strangers – as best we can – by taking a seat against the wall. I rush to grab a seat close to the rear of the room, near the corner, where there is a wall to the left of me and another directly behind my chair. The room begins to fill up quickly with about 300 other prospective  jurors – or if you prefer – civic duty draftees. Then the real fun begins.

I glance around the room to see if I recognize anyone I know. I don’t.  A few people are chatting on their cell phones and some of them are talking loudly enough to be heard by people sitting across the aisle. Someone coughs, another person sneezes and snorts, making me wonder how many pneumonic germs I am inhaling and whether the chill from the air conditioner will kill their germs before they reach my nostrils.

After allowing adequate time for the stragglers to arrive, the court clerk comes into the room at 9 a.m. and gives the standard spiel informing us about the service we are about to render. “You are here blah, blah, blah.”  I zone out during her brief monologue, because I have heard it all before. Then, before exiting the room she turns on the overhead TV screens so that we can view a 15 minute jurors’ instructional video that, among other things, asks jurors not to talk on their cell phones while in the lounge.  

As recently as two years ago, which was the last time I was called to serve, the instructional video was followed by a movie.  I clearly remember the film was The Secret Life of Bees.  Even though I had seen the film in the theater, it was worth watching again. So, instead of “doing my time” reading, I prepared to enjoy the movie. That enjoyment was soon curtailed by a know-it-all sitting behind me and telling the person unfortunate enough to be seated beside her everything that was about to happen in each scene. I found myself wondering is there anyone else besides me wishing that mouth almighty would shut her face?

I read somewhere that you do not need any special skills, knowledge, or education to be a juror. Judging by some of the people you see and hear in the lounge, there is no question about that. [To be continued in Part IV.]

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Jury Duty – Part II of IV

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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.]

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Jury Duty – Part I of IV

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Whoever said that time does not stand still obviously has never been called for jury duty. I have been summoned so many times that I have lost count. Once I was even unlucky enough to get chosen to serve. Yes, I said it. Unlucky. This is not a court of public opinion. You claim your luck and I’ll claim mine.

Those of you who have been summoned for jury duty know that it is primarily a waiting game that begins after you arrive at the jury office and sign in. If you have never been commanded to serve and are anticipating doing so, then whoppi-do for you. Perhaps you envision being a juror on the trial of a famous – or infamous – personality like Casey Anthony or Conrad Murray. Think possible sequestering. Think press-hounding. Think again.

However, if you are not counting the days before you get tagged, but are curious about the procedure, then let me give you an abbreviated version of Jury Duty 101 — in my town; highlights of the process of being summoned. Selection to actually serve on a jury will be another post for another day.

For adamant objectors — what may be your first clue that it is going to be a bad next few weeks begins when you take the jury summons from your mailbox. Oh, snap! The official document shows a time and date in the not too distant future, when you are expected to report to the courthouse. It also contains a Juror Qualification Form that includes several questions inquiring about your age, citizenship, employment status, and whether you are a felon. Rest assure that Big Brother already has the answers to those questions. Regardless, you are required to answer them honestly and then mail the form back in the prepaid envelope.

I received my most recent summons about six weeks ago, followed the instructions for returning the form, and showed up at the courthouse on the appointed date and time. Here is how my day went. [To be continued in Part II.]

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