Search for jury an ongoing process

KELSO, Wash. – As jury selection in the Fred Russell vehicular homicide trial stretches into its fourth day this morning, it’s clear that some of the roughly 30 remaining potential jurors are relaxing their first impressions of the case.

“I guess I thought he was going to be some kind of monster,” one potential juror said, looking at Russell, 28, sitting there in a navy blue blazer. “He’s not a monster. He’s a kid.”

Attorneys are still hoping to get a jury picked today and start opening arguments. But under extensive questioning by defense attorney Francisco Duarte, jury selection has taken much longer than expected. Prosecutors, clearly frustrated, are juggling flight plans for the dozens of witnesses in the case.

“I hate to say this, folks, but it’s going to be a long trial,” Duarte said Wednesday.

Russell faces three counts of vehicular homicide and three of vehicular assault from a four-car wreck in 2001 near Pullman that left three fellow Washington State University students dead and several other people badly injured. Russell was allegedly drunk at the time.

A charge of bail-jumping – incurred when he fled to Ireland for several years – was dropped as part of the extradition agreement, according to assistant attorney general Lana Weinmann.

The trial began Monday. Whitman County Superior Court Judge David Frazier – who’s hearing the case here – moved the case to rural Kelso due to defense concerns about finding an impartial jury in Whitman County after six years of news coverage.

As the jury pool has narrowed, Russell’s demeanor has changed. For most of the first two days of trial, he spent most of the time looking down, taking notes and whispering to his attorneys. He rarely made eye contact with jurors.

But on Wednesday, as jurors spoke freely about their own brushes with the law, Russell watched closely. He leaned forward, listening.

Duarte, courtly and polite, continued to draw out potential jurors.

“It probably hurts you a lot, though, it sounds like. … That took a lot of courage. … Tell me more about that,” he told various jurors Wednesday morning. “Thank you for sharing that, you’re very astute. … Can we talk?”

Many have clearly warmed up to him.

“You’re a fine attorney,” one man said to Duarte at one point. “I actually like you.”

Most of the afternoon was spent asking what they’d heard or read about the case. Several said they didn’t feel they could be fair to Russell.

“Just the way I was raised, if somebody does something and they’re not in the wrong, they stick around,” said one man. “And unfortunately, I’m in the know that he went halfway across the world.”

He was dismissed. So was a young woman who said she didn’t feel she could handle such an emotional case.

“I’ve already cried,” she said, her voice breaking. “I feel bad for everyone involved.”

Also let go Wednesday was a middle-aged woman, biting her lip, who said that her daughter was murdered at her high school.

After days of group questions, attorneys are now calling potential jurors in singly to ask what they’ve heard or read about Russell and the crash. When some reported seeing a “flier” about the case at a local shop, both sides quietly scrambled staffers to locate it. It turned out to be a news roundup from a radio station.

Several potential jurors expressed some sympathy for Russell.

“People get scared when bad things happen,” said another woman. “When you get scared, you do dumb things. I speak from personal experience.”

“I was thinking to myself how lovely that would be to go and live in Ireland … to escape that situation,” another woman said.

Among the handful of observers in the courtroom Wednesday were parents from both sides. Every day, Russell’s mother and aunt have sat in the courtroom, politely declining one interview request after another.

Three rows in front of them sat two fathers of WSU students killed in the crash.

Rich Morrow, a West Seattle freight manager who launched a reward fund to find Russell when he fled, was the father of 21-year-old Stacy Morrow. Beside him sat Hank Clements, of White Swan, whose only son Brandon Clements was driving the 1978 Cadillac smashed by Russell’s Chevy Blazer.

“I’m hoping that it’s here that justice is done,” said Clements.