Vocal Point: Jury duty leaves lingering questions

Over the past couple weeks it’s been my privilege, as well as my civic duty, to join the pool of jurors down at the Spokane County Courthouse.

I love visiting this grand 112-year-old building, fashioned, according to the plaque outside the Broadway Avenue entrance, in the French Renaissance style of architecture.

Of course, once inside, I’m immediately turned around and lost, constrained to retrace my footsteps more than once, but that’s beside the point. I’ve always wondered how to find the jail yard where convicted murderer George Webster was hanged on March 30, 1900.

Speaking of March, I’ve been called to jury duty three times in the past six years, always in this month.

I don’t mind the summons, because I find the judicial process interesting. Good thing, seeing the pay isn’t all that wonderful.

In 2001 (when I earned the same $10 per day it is now), I served on a trial.

In 2004 I went downtown, wasn’t called, and was back home by 10 a.m.

This time, my name was on the list of potential jurors, and for some esoteric reason I once again was chosen to be on a jury.

The trial is complete now, and I’m allowed to talk about it. Thirteen of us – 12 plus an alternate – filed into the courtroom, prepared to listen to the evidence with an open mind. Lest we forget, we were reminded that an accused person is innocent until proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt.

For privacy reasons, I won’t go into the charge, but after approximately two days of testimony, the lawyers wrapped up their remarks, and we, the jurors, took the case into our hands.

I, and three others, thought the evidence murky and that the state had not indisputably proven its case. To my surprise, the other eight jurors thought it had.

So there we were. Impasse.

After wrangling back and forth most of the afternoon, and unable to come to a unanimous decision, we were able to agree to a lesser charge. At this time, we trooped back into the courtroom and handed over our decision.

The defendant, by the way, seemed quite relieved and managed to crack a smile.

Our duty done, the case over, the judge dismissed us.

I wish I could dismiss the thoughts still buzzing through my mind.

For instance, did I make the right decision? Have I helped release a likely re-offender into the system?

Was this person truly guilty, and is he now laughing at putting one over on us? Will he cause actual harm to someone, later?

Gads! How can anyone not worry about these things? I wish I’d had more complete information on the defendant, but, of course, jurors can go only by the evidence presented to them.

Four of us read the evidence differently than the others. Were we right?

I’m just hoping this guy will pick up the pieces of his life and learn from the mistake he made.

Message to defendant: Take the wise course, fella, and stick to the straight and narrow. As I’m sure you’ve discovered by now, it’ll be a whole lot more comfortable.

You caught a break this time. Take advantage of it.

I probably won’t visit the courthouse again for another few years, but when I do, I’ll be struck yet again by the magnificence of the building and by the history of justice dispensed from within its walls.

I’m glad I can serve and be part of our judicial system, even with all the doubts that continue to plague me.