Every person I have met has the same reaction when the dreaded jury summons letter arrives. Emotions border on hatred and homicidal urges. No one wants to serve on a jury! Cooped up in a room with thirteen other strangers (twelve jury members and two alternates) for possibly days and getting paid a pittance! And to top it off, we have no choice! It is the law! Unless, we can come up with a good reason not to be on a jury. Strategies abound on how to dodge jury duty.

However, recently, my efforts fell on deaf ears and I showed up for jury duty. Within hours of sitting in the dull, oppressive courtroom, I was called in the first twelve potential members of the jury. The next morning after hours of lectures on the process of a jury and a trial and the definitions of murder, I was seated on the jury.

I will never forget the first time I sat in the jury box and studied the “perp” or rather, the accused at the far end of a long table. The prosecution sat at the end of the table closest to the jury. The accused and his attorneys sat at the far end.
Clad in a flannel shirt and wearing black rimmed glasses, the man seemed like an ordinary person I might meet at Starbucks or find sitting behind me in a pew at church. He certainly didn’t look like a murderer. Looks can be deceiving. Skin cannot hide what dwells within the heart of man. See what I did there? I’m a writer!

The trial unfolded swiftly after we were seated. Heartbreaking testimony from the victim’s friends and family. Body camera footage from the police arriving just moments after the shooting. On day two, grim and disturbing photographs of the victim’s body from a pathologist with monotonal delivery. He was far too calm for the carnage exposed on the photographs. I’m a doctor and I found the photos very disturbing, nauseating, dehumanizing. I couldn’t begin to imagine what the other jurors were feeling.
Have you ever served on a jury? If so, have you been part of a murder tria? I had trouble sleeping for about a week after it was all said and done. It is one thing to read about such atrocities. It is another to see it laid out in real time before you while looking the murderer in the eyes!

When the guilty verdict was finally delivered and the courtroom was cleared of everyone but the jury and the judge, my first thought was what if the murderer’s family, friends, or cohorts came after us for this verdict? Were we safe? The patina of apparent safety had been stripped away like pain thinner on the bubbled surface of old wood! No one was safe if this seemingly calm, ordinary man had been capable of the macabre and gruesome murder. I can never look around me now without studying every individual, every movement, every possible intention. Safety is an illusion!

The judge assured us that in the thirty years he had presided over criminal cases, no jury member had every suffered from retribution.
I walked away from that experience a changed man. Here are my thoughts.

First, if I was ever accused of a crime, I would want a jury of reasonable, thinking, willing individuals to objectively assess the evidence against me. I wouldn’t want angry, anxious to be done, uncaring people. I know jury duty is a drag. But it is a necessary duty to keep our society from devolving into chaos.

Second, if I were asked to serve on a jury again, I would do it. Did it waste my time? Yes. Did I get reasonable recompense for my time? No! Was I inconvenienced? Yes. But considering that the victim lost her life and was deprived of a future with her grandchildren and friends, four days in a jury box is nothing! When we are chosen to be on a jury, we become the instruments of justice. Even unwillingly, it is a duty we should, albeit reluctantly, embrace.

Third, the experience taught me a lot about law and what really happens in a courtroom. What we see on television and the movie screen during a tense courtroom drama is NOTHING like experiencing it in real time. This man’s life was in OUR hand! We could with a cavalier attitude put the man away for life! Or we could release a monster out on the streets. At the same time, justice could only be served if we did our job objectively and willingly. The harsh reality of the choices we were called to make puts any fictional drama in its shadow.

Fourth, the experience provided me an opportunity to share with my readers. My second book about Jack Merchant was not intended to feature jury duty. I had another pathway chosen for Dr. Merchant. But circumstances in my practice group and events concerning members of my practice came dangerously close in real life to what I had intended in fiction. I had to back off and come up with another story. For now. My experience on a jury during a murder trail became the central story of “Merchant of Justice”.
So join Dr. Jack Merchant as he reluctantly becomes the “13th juror”.