Yesterday I reported for jury duty at 8:30 AM at the El Paso County, Colorado courthouse. Colorado has the "one day or one trial" rule, and there's even a number you can call the evening before your scheduled jury duty to find out if you still have to appear. Presumably, court officials look at the docket of trials beginning each day, estimate the number of citizens required for the jury pools for those trials, and cancel overbookings. The jury summons we receive in the mail gives us a Juror Number to refer to when we make the phone call.
My number was in the mid eight hundreds. Nothing to worry about, right? I decided not to bother any of my multiple physicians, any one of whom would have gotten me excused from jury duty. Too bad for me the juror roll for July 7 BEGAN with number 601.
In all my decades of reporting for jury duty I've never been selected for a jury, not even traffic court, so I decided to do my civic duty. The first problem I encountered was with parking. There is a designated lot for jurors, and there was even a handicapped space still available when I parked. So far, so good. Unfortunately, the lot is located a looooong way from the entrance to the court house. By the time I slowly trudged my way to the entrance, then stood in a hideously long security line for fifteen minutes, then made my way another great distance to the jury room and stood in THAT line for ten minutes to check in, my back had awakened and begun complaining. I settled into a decently padded chair with relief.
And there I sat for five interminable hours. At one point my name was called, 55th or so out of 60 to form the initial pool for a trial beginning yesterday. We were given a questionnaire to fill out, informing us that this would be a first degree murder trial. Heh. A couple of other, smaller pools were formed and taken off to designated courtrooms and the remaining citizens were dismissed at about 10:30. My group of sixty continued to wait. And wait. At 11:45 we were dismissed for one hour for lunch, encouraged to use the "cafeteria" in the basement.
Did I mention walking is painful for me? But so is sitting for long periods of time, so I took off for the "cafeteria", only to find a nasty little room in the basement serving mystery burritos at the end of another long line. I would have to be much hungrier - and quite drunk - to inflict that on my stomach, so I returned to the jury room intending to fashion a meal from the vending machines there.
The one vending machine with food items was marked "out of order". I had a diet Dr. Pepper for lunch.
Finally, finally, my group of citizens was rounded up and taken on a long journey to a courtroom on the fifth floor. We were made to stand in the hall for thirty minutes while court officials called out names and formed lines, just like in elementary school. By this time Nurse Kelley was on the floor, attempting to stretch and calm and relax back and leg muscles that were in spasm after so many hours of enforced sitting. I have severe spinal stenosis, my spinal canal so narrowed by disc trauma that the nerves are often pinched, sending me from a tolerable pain level of 3 or 4 out of ten to "oh shit oh shit oh shit". The seating in the courtroom was wooden church pews ... and I was at "oh shit" the minute I sat down.
The judge for the first degree murder trial was a blonde woman who obviously enjoys her position. Two criminal defense attorneys had been placed in our pool, a fact known by the judge for several hours, yet she didn't dismiss them until 2 PM. Nurse Kelley began to smell a power player. She asked us to raise our hands if there was anything going on in our lives that might prohibit us from giving a trial lasting an estimated two to three weeks our undivided attention.
One response was from a man who returned from his army tour in Iraq or Afghanistan on July 4th, two days earlier. He said this week was for family time, but next week he had to report back to Ft. Carson for his unit's debriefing. Did the judge thank him for his service and dismiss him so he could get back to his family? She did not. Perhaps she did hours later, after I left, but why be an ass and keep him there?
Another response was from a young woman whose wedding is next week.
Another response was from a woman going to court to finalize an adoption next week.
Another response was from a real estate broker, an employer of six people, who tearfully said they're having their first good month in two years.
I raised my hand and said my physical disabilities would interfere with my concentration and most likely force me to miss several days of testimony. I was required to answer personal questions about my health in open court, questions asked in a tone of doubt rather than sympathy.
There were others, but I think you get the picture. When each of us spoke I could see both the prosecuting attorney and the defense attorneys cross our names off their lists of prospective jurors. It should be no surprise to any judge that people's lives are complicated and cannot always be put on hold for several weeks with no advance warning, yet this judge tried her best to make us feel bad for not being able to serve. She lost a few more prospective jurors - a pregnant woman, an elderly man with a recent hip replacement, that sort of thing - when she announced that she would be taking everyone to the scene of the crime at some point, a steep, quarter mile hike up Mt. Cutler. Each one got the look for a few moments, or a comment such as, "Are you sure? Even if I provide the arm of a sturdy officer?"
I started my day yesterday proud of myself for at least trying to be a good citizen. When I finally collapsed in the driver's seat of my car at 4 PM, I had a bad taste in my mouth. This judge was picking on good people who answered the call and were doing their best, like the young man who raised his hand when she asked if anyone had trouble speaking, hearing, or reading. "I can speak and hear just fine, judge ... but I can't read."
She had the nerve to give HIM the look! If she had closed her mouth and opened her mind, she would have learned that the one person in the room not required to be there, an elderly woman who'd hobbled in on a cane, was the young man's mother, also giving up her day so she could help her son with whatever forms might be required.
Here's the thing. This woman thinks she's accommodating the disabled because she has volume enhancers available and "understands" people who need to stand up from time to time. Folks, she doesn't have a fucking clue what some people go through every single day of their lives. If you saw the two of us side by side you might even pick me as the healthy one. My posture is amazing ... because I have to keep those discs as far apart from each other as I can. I'm thin ... because not carrying any extra weight around is one thing I can do to spare my back. I don't limp ... because which leg would I favor? The one with a fused ankle after five bad fractures, or the one with nerve damage? I smile frequently and interact with others ... because what good does it do to frown and withdraw?
This judge displayed her own disabilities yesterday: ignorance and arrogance. Saying her courtroom "understands" people who need supplemental oxygen while ignoring the half mile or so they have to walk to reach her damn courtroom in disingenuous. And looking down her tanned nose at a young man whose unknown life story has left him unable to read and write, or arching an eyebrow at a morbidly obese man who said he doubted he could climb Mt. Cutler, made me so frustrated I wanted to bite myself. MY reaction to the young man was admiration that he cares enough about our judicial system to want to be a part of it.
Let's talk about this.