I looked at the mail and my heart sank.
A jury summons addressed to me.
My first words were not “oh joy.”
Every time I looked at that letter, I’d grit my teeth in frustration.
I was to report to the Fort Bend County Courthouse at 12:30 p.m.; and as I maneuvered down Golfview, which is a construction nightmare, I became even more aggravated.
I pulled into the parking lot of the Fort Bend County Justice Center, though, and was quite impressed. The graceful building fronts a spacious parking area and the entrance is grand and modern.
The line to get into the building never slowed, thanks to deputies who politely moved us along to the jury waiting area.
I expected to wait in a cramped room with metal folding chairs, but I was pleasantly surprised to find a comfortable waiting area with plenty of padded chairs.
Playing on a big television screen was a video of what to expect from jury duty. The film featured judges and lawyers who explained most of the questions jurors might have. The room filled quickly, and soon the judge came in and asked anyone who couldn’t serve to see him.
After the last person had their excuse signed, the judge thanked everyone for their time. An easy-going clerk explained the afternoon’s process to us, traded a few jokes and made the waiting time pass quickly.
Soon a deputy began calling names with instructions to line up in the waiting area. I think everyone in that room was silently praying “please don’t call my name.”
Then my name was called, so I sighed, picked up my purse and got in the line. When we entered a courtroom, five well-dressed people were silently facing us – two prosecutors and two attorneys flanking a nervous young man.
No one spoke a word as we took our seats and listened to another set of instructions from the judge. As the attorneys visually sized us up, I glanced at the people sitting around me. They came from all walks of life – young, old, middle-aged – and all had a similar look of trepidation on their faces.
The prosecutors went first, showing us a PowerPoint to explain voire dire, the process by which jurors are selected. People were encouraged to speak freely to questions I’m sure had been carefully chosen.
Then the defense team took the podium, asking if we could honestly say the person at the defendant’s table was innocent until proven guilty. I looked at that man and wondered what he was thinking.
He was putting his fate in the hands of six people he’d never met before, and I realized it was true what the first judge had told us – jury duty is not a chore to be taken lightly.
A juror decides whether or not a person goes to jail that day or walks out into the sunshine a free man or woman. At that moment, I realized the seriousness of what we’d been asked to do.
Later that afternoon while heading back to my car, I noticed a walking path to a covered swing. I wondered if jurors who are charged with determining the fate of defendants sit there and mentally prepare for what they’re being asked to do.
After what I’d heard that afternoon, I believed the six strangers I saw in that courtroom would come together as a team and justice would be served.
This article was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.