Honestly, this has been one of the worst weeks of my recent life. That's super dramatic, I know. But I have really good reasons for it.
My friend killed himself exactly a week ago. I've had roommate issues resulting in a letter insulting me continuously. Getting back into the swing of things at Cal Poly after being gone since last June has been a lot harder than expected.
And the man I helped convict of first degree murder was sentenced today.
Over winter break I had jury duty. I had it once before when I turned 18 and was almost an alternate for an attempted murder case. When I received my summons this time it was for July 2011, but since I was abroad I rescheduled it for December 6th 2011.
I went to the jury lounge honestly expecting not to be there long. I don't mean that I was thinking I would go home early, I just figured I'd be picked early. From my past experience I felt that my karma sucked enough to where I'd be called to the first trial room. And of course, I was lucky number 3. Although it was random pickings called out in alphabetical order, so my last name obviously had something to do with that.
When we reached the 4th floor there were almost 50 of us. I was called 3rd again and went to go sit in the corresponding jury chair. By the end of the day we were all questioned and 15 of us were left: 12 Jurors and 3 Alternates. I was the youngest by about 15 years, at least.
The actual trial lasted for 5 days, although one of those days we were "on call" because the defense attorney had a health issue. We sat there and listened to evidence from witnesses, neighbors, employers, police and EMTs, doctors, and the defendant.
I won't go into too much detail, but it was a case involving a stabbing. The victim and defendant were not friends (in fact they had a history of hatred), but had one mutual friend. The victim was hanging out at her house, and when the defendant learned of this he went over there. Within 10 minutes there was a dead body in the driveway.
We listened to the 911 call. We saw the autopsy pictures. We saw the blood in the crime scene pictures. We saw the victim's wife break down crying when the stab wounds were shown on the lifeless body. We heard about the victim's and the defendant's young children.
The deliberations lasted over four days. I have never learned so much about the justice system. And I think it is amazing. When done right, it works.
As soon as the guilty verdict was read, I got out of the courtroom as fast as I could. I wish I kept in contact with at least one or two jurors, but I didn't and now I have to deal with this on my own.
I went home that night and told my parents and sister that I convicted a man of first degree murder. Needless to say my family was not too happy to hear that I was on this trial. Not only because it was murder, but there was evidence of gang involvement.
I didn't eat for the entire two weeks during the trial. I didn't sleep. All I could think about was the trial. I had no school, no work, and not many friends to distract me. And I could not tell a soul what the trial was about.
People were asking me day in and day out. "Just tell me if you think the person is guilty!" "Is it civil or criminal?" "Who is the judge?"
Later I came to find out that my mom's friend is part of the District Attorney's office and his old partner from his police days was one of the first people on the scene that night. If I had even known about this family friend I would not have been part of the trial, but I didn't until after.
He saw my sister at one point before deliberations began and asked if I had told her anything. He also mentioned he knew one of the witnesses. She told him I hadn't said a word and his response was, "Wow. If I were in her shoes I don't think I could keep it bottled in."
My sister didn't know what that meant until later.
It's been exactly one month since myself and 11 other jurors heard the verdict read in court. Because I was a sworn in juror I don't have to be on another jury for 3 years, instead of the normal 1 if you have to only go for a day (in California at least). But I will do it again in a heartbeat.
I always thought it would be cool to be on a murder trial. Watching shows like Law and Order entranced me growing up. But I never thought of a juror's life outside of the trial. During the trial we are secluded. Maybe not stuck in a hotel (unless it's high profile), but we are secluded in our minds.
All I want to do is move on from this experience, but it will never happen. The back of my mind will always be filled with the faces and stories of people I never would have known otherwise. I know one part of their lives, a part they would not want to share with close friends they've had for years. We're connected. Connected to the victim. Connected to the murderer.
The victim's children will never get their father back. If the defendant is sentenced to life, then his children will never get their father back either.
Jury duty is the best experience an American citizen can have. I can't stress that enough.
This trial has been killing me for the past month and a half. It took me at least two weeks after to start eating normally again, and my sleeping schedule has been off and on; but I feel as though I am almost free.
