Sitting in the jury box

"Justice? You get justice in the next world; in this world you have the law."

--American novelist William Gaddis (1922-1998)

In real life, court trials are not all about DNA.

They're more about common sense.

If real life were like TV drama, there wouldn't be so many trials down at the John Marshall Courts Building. If the defendant's body fluids are all over the crime scene, where's the doubt? If immutable testimony puts the accused on the scene with a bloody knife in his hand, what's the issue? When the facts are black and white, who needs a jury? Clear-cut cases most often end in plea bargains.

A few years ago, I was summoned for jury duty and served in two trials. Both cases involved thoughtful consideration of the nuances of the testimony and the evidence.

The forensic scientist who testified in the first case, which was about a grim double murder, wasn't much help. The key to the case turned out to be a dumb mistake made by the defendant. In the second, a traffic case, it was one man's word against another's.

Sitting in the jury box is often confounding. But it seems to me that the really important thing to remember is that you're not supposed to leave your common sense at the jury-room door.

The two-day murder trial was about two brutal drug-related killings in a parked car, at night, on the city's Northside. In his rush to get away, the killer had left his cell phone in the car's back seat. Guilt or innocence hinged on cell-phone records that took up hours of the prosecution case. Testimony was confusing. It was up to the jury to sort it out and connect the dots. We did, using our common sense. Without too much dithering we found the defendant guilty and sentenced him to 40 years.

The second case was about an automobile accident, and both sides admitted that there was no way for us to really know who was telling the truth. Two cars crashed at an intersection. Both drivers claimed their light was green. There were no other witnesses. Both sides were equally credible. Again, those of us on the jury used our common sense: we compromised. The man who had been injured in the crash was awarded his minimum medical expenses but nothing more.

Did we mete out justice?

I'll never know with certainty.

But in both cases we thought we were as fair as we could be -- using our common sense.