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 I served on a jury once in the
late 1980’s involving a drug-related murder outside a corner bar in Chester.

Other than the fact that the
District Attorney was devastatingly handsome, the experience bore little
resemblance to what you see on television and was in fact quite sobering. 

We, as a jury, were never aware
that some of the witnesses, although dressed in street clothes, had been
transported from prison to testify. And unlike many fictional trials, the
entire process from jury selection to sentencing lasted only 5 days.  

So when I got an official looking
letter a few months ago…“You are summoned to serve as a juror in the
Delaware County Court of Common Pleas, located at the Court House, Media, PA,
for a term of service commencing on February 12, 2010”  

My first thought—oh crap!

It’s like getting one of those happy tooth postcards, your
dentist sends out reminding you of your next appointment.

According to the Delaware County jury commission,
approximately 17,000 jurors are called to serve each year, randomly chosen from
a list of more than 380,000 registered voters in the county.

So I mailed back my questionnaire and reported for jury duty
last Friday.

The Media Courthouse is a large, elegant structure gracing
West Front Street in Media. Completed in 1851, additional wings were added in
1871 and 1882.

But like most courthouses today, getting in is just like
going through airport security— place your “carry-on” on the conveyor belt and
step through the scanner.

After watching an informational DVD, we were given a red
juror button as well as a number to wear for the jury selection process. As our
numbers were called we lined up in the hallway along the wall. A court officers
assigned to our panel of 60 made sure we stayed in line and quiet.

Instant flashback to Strafford Elementary School–Mrs. Walker
has us lined up ready to go to the cafeteria.

We were led upstairs to Courtroom #6 for the process of
“Voir Dire,” the actual selection of the jury.

The court clerk had a computer-generated list of every name
on our panel, our corresponding juror numbers and information based on our
questionnaires. And if you don’t think your political leaning and
socio-economic status doesn’t jump out at the attorneys, think again.

After our panel of 60, now seated in the body of the
courtroom, was sworn in, the judge summarized the nature of the case, giving
the names of the parties, the attorneys and list of witnesses making sure there
would be no conflict of interest. The trial was to last two days.

After a series of general questions, the long process called
“striking” began, as the attorneys crossed off names of jurors they believed
would not be in their client’s best interest.

By 12:45 p.m. the jury of 12 plus two alternates had been
seated.

And as I left
the courthouse that afternoon, I knew I had, in a very small way, participated
in our country’s legal system—real life, real people, real practice. Not Perry
Mason, Denny Crane or Alan Shore and definitely not Hollywood.

Because when you
look at the flesh and blood defendant, a defendant who is facing a jail
term behind bars, you realize this is not a script and the importance of your
presence becomes all too abundantly clear.