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9:54:00 AM EST
Feeling Surprised
Hearing Cell phone jingles
Three Envelopes and a Verdict
Baltimore, Md 2/7/08 10am-
So much for long, drawn-out trials; one day is all it took. I can now say with equal conviction that our system of justice works and our system of justice doesn't work.
I showed up yesterday in my customary attire, a blue and white striped shirt, dark blue slacks, and wingtips. The hair was combed. As the thirteen of us waited around (twelve jurors and one alternate), I played a game. I tried to predict what type of personality each of the jurors would have. I started with the black lady; she was the only one who got there before I did.
She was well dressed, well spoken, and we greeted each other warmly. Normally, I'd look at her and see a lady, but add a black defendant and I can't help but see a black lady. We talked about nothing in particular for five minutes and I could see she had a strong personality, but not overbearing. She didn't strike me as the kind to acquit, based simply on the color of the defendant's skin.
The two youngest girls came in (one was the alternate) and they chatted about makeup and where they could go to "get more hours", waitresses maybe. Neither of them appeared to be the type to have an opinion about much of anything.
The older lady in the jean jacket wore her best jean jacket for court again. She chattered non-stop and I got the sense that she wanted to take over. She did strike me as possibly being the type to convict based solely on skin color. Her speech had redneck written all over it.
The chubby young man with the Amish beard was shy; he mumbled and lowered his eyes when spoken to, never started up any of the conversation.
The old Marlboro Man and two of the women sat a little too far away from me to get any sense of who they were.
Behind me, two of the women were discussing their children. They spoke about the joys and agony of motherhood. It seemed like pretty typical stuff until one of them declared that she was home-schooling seven of HER children. Just pushing out seven kids is quite a feat, but home-schooling them on top of that downright is heroic.
And the last one I noticed was a redhead. She joined the black lady and me at our table. She wore busy red clothes that clashed for the second day in a row. She didn't seem to have much of an education and seemed to be trying to make up for it with a dose of bravado.
They came and got us, and we went up to take our seats. The prosecutor looked at me and smiled, probably liked the conservative attire. The defense attorney smiled as well, but not quite as enthusiastically.
The prosecutor made her opening statement. The police had been looking for a "big time" drug dealer in the Frederick area named Brandon Sanders or "L.A." as he went by. They'd had surveillance on several houses on which his name appeared on the lease. The defendant's sister was dating this drug dealer. They'd rented a townhouse together, one of the places the police were watching.
Undercover policemen bought drugs from the drug dealer at this residence only two weeks prior to the defendant's arrest.
(to be cont'd)
Written by ravenjuiced Blog about this entry |
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Oh man, just like a tv show, keep us coming back for more.
Julie -
You're leaving us HANGING? :)
Okay, I'll wait.
Wondered how you'd be perceived the day of your typical workday attire. This should be interesting...........
Oh, and your info so far has been informative for my mother, scheduled to go in a couple weeks.
2/29/08 1:05 PM
Lori
http://journals.aol.com/helms