It was so stuffy in the courtroom that my breathing slowed; it would’ve been hard to keep my eyes open if there weren’t an accused murderer sitting six feet in front of the witness stand.
There were 150 potential jurors spread throughout the courtroom. People of all shapes and sizes were squeezed into the galley benches. Even more people were standing up against the back wall, fanning themselves with their juror card. Then there was me sitting in the witness stand—the only seat that was left when I walked in.
The dank air and my growling stomach made it difficult to relax. I looked at my juror card: “Group Twelve, Juror Fourteen” it read. I was so far down the list I didn’t think I’d be chosen. There were four people in the jury box and they were only then calling group three, juror six.
With a deep sigh and an aggressive shifting of my weight, I leaned forward in the chair and sat on my hands. I was tempted to break out my book from my bag, but I worried that it would be rude to the defendant and maybe even the judge. What is the etiquette for this sort of thing?
So I sat. I waited. The courtroom clerk announced in his booming voice the numbers four, four; four, five; four, six. Another hour went by and the clerk bellowed ten-one, ten-two, ten-three; and now there were seven seats filled. Maybe I will get picked.
Finally, after many more minutes of watching potential jurors line up to approach the bench, the clerk said, “Jurors in the twelfth jury pool, please form a line.”
I looked at the jury box and saw that there were three seats left. Twelve-six went home; Twelve-seven went home and so did all the other potentials standing in the line in front of me. Finally it was my turn and there I was in front of the judge and four lawyers.
No one said a word except for the judge: “Thanks for being patient. Go stand against that wall, please,” he said as he pointed to the witness stand. I returned to the place I started and waited. A moment later the bass voice of the clerk echoed: “Juror number nine, step forward and take a seat.”
