My Day In Court

"Learn the luxury of doing good."

Oliver Goldsmith, 1730-1774

I've enjoyed taking pictures of "my" fawn in our backyard. For the past 4 weeks, each evening I sit in the dining room looking out the window, for an hour or two, waiting for them to arrive.  Hope you like the snaps

It's a notice most everyone hates to see in the mail. Certainly not a warm and loving note. "You have been summoned to jury selection."

 
At 69, I've been summoned twice before in MD. I was excused with a doctor's note both times. Now here in PA, the summon arrived. Being retired, and in fairly good mental state, I decided to go.

"I'll tell them I'm extremely emotional and subject to depression and headaches. Surely I won't be seen as a good juror selection." Silly me. Wrong. "You are juror #5," the judge said. I was not happy.

I received this news last Thursday morning at 11:30. "Be back at 1," I was told. I immediately took an Advil in hopes of stopping any headaches. (Seriously)

I called our church office and requested a prayer alert go out. When I saw the email come up on my phone and looked at it, I started laughing. People all the time spell and say my last name with an "r" in it. McGriffin. I've even received checks with the wrong spelling.

In all the confusion of our secretary's time off work for a family emergency, in this email my name was spelled: McGlovern. I laughed! That's just what I needed to get me settled down. I smiled and told God: "You know who I am so just hear all those prayers and remember me."

The fawn are in their natural setting and don't know I'm watching them. The doe look in the windows often because they've seen movement. Another thing that gives me away is a white light blinks when I press the button to focus. But I usually have free reign of snapping without being observed.

It had been a long three hours of sitting and waiting to not be selected Thursday morning. But at 1:30 I was sitting in the juror's box in the court room and listening to open remarks by the attorneys. Surreal. That's how it felt all afternoon. I was stunned to be sitting there listening to a case. I was in another world.

The judge was a jolly man. He smiled frequently and had an expression of "let's be happy." He certainly didn't have the appearance of TV and movie judges. That's all I could compare him too. He took every opportunity to tell us to stand up and stretch while each witness was brought into the court room. One time he did several jumping jacks. I wanted to giggle a few times, but managed to keep a straight face.

Although it was a criminal case, it wasn't gruesome or sickening. It was difficult knowing some body's future was in "our" hands.

We were back Friday morning at 9 and was finally sent to deliberate at 7 that evening. I pulled into our driveway at 10 p.m.

A serious civic duty. I think my life would have been just fine without taking part. But I did it. I survived my day in court. But let's be reasonable. I don't want to do it again.

The judge said we couldn't be called again for three years. Let's see. I'm 69. That would make me 72. What joy! I can opt out at 72.

 Oh, the joy of enjoying something fun!