1987 - Jury Duty I

I’ve served on 3 jury trials and have found each of them unique and interesting. I have found every citizen takes this particular responsibility very seriously. Every jury upon which I have had the honor to serve has dispatched the case with droll seriousness and not once have I found a juror to be frivolous or casual in their attitude towards this task.

1987 – Jury Duty I

“Give all of your money.” The little guy, whom I’ll call Jose, blanched at the prick of something sharp poked against his back. He had just stepped into a small shadowed alcove in the front façade of the little chapel. His assailant was invisible to him.

“Si, Senior, Si.” Jose answered. In Spanish he said, “This is all of my money. I’ll have nothing for my family, for my new…”

“Silencio. I don’t care about your family. Gimme your money and shut up.” His assailant was still in the dark and Jose couldn’t see anything but the shadow of the young lady he had accompanied to this location and the streetlight on the corner which mostly served to make the shadows behind him that much deeper. The person with the blade in his back evidently spoke Spanish but was clearly more comfortable in English. “This all you got?”

“Si, Senior. I have nothing else.”

“Gimme your wallet.”

Jose barely understood English. “Pardon?” He looked quizzical but fear still reigned on his face.

“I said gimme your wallet – wallet – wallet, geez…your ATM card-i-o. Comeon, comeon.” Jose understood ATM and reached for his back left pocket. His assailant slapped his hand, “I’ll get it…” The crook stood in silence leafing through Jose’s wallet while Jose noticed his legs were shaking. He had never been involved in anything like this before and was scared stiff. “Ok, I got it. This ATM card – uh…where’s your bank?”

“Nothing in bank.” Jose said. “Nada.”

“Don’t gimme any problems.” Jose felt the point of the blade in his back. He stiffened. “Lets go see how much you got.” With the young lady blocking the blade from sight the trio walked the 2-blocks to the closest ATM. Upon arrival the assailant said “Ok, gimme all your money.”

Jose inserted his card. “ATM only for $20.” He said.

“Then gimme 20.”

“Only have $17.”

“Then gimme 17.”

“ATM only for $20.” Jose repeated.

“Then gimme 20.”

“Only have $17.”

“Then gimme 17.” This conversation continued in front of the ATM machine for the next couple of minutes.


Next scene: Downtown San Diego’s Court House. 2nd floor courtroom and there I sit in the jury box. Jose is on the stand. A translator stands near him repeating his testimony in English for those of us that speak no Spanish.

“Jose, After you were robbed at knifepoint why did you drop the charges?”

“I was afraid the bad-man would go after me.”

“Did your assailant know where you lived?”

“No.”

“Did he know you from somewhere else?”

“No.”

“You testified that he threw your wallet and all identification except your ATM card away. Is this correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then how would he go after you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Jose, the next testimony will be by the young lady that was charged in this case as well. She has been convicted and is currently serving time as a guest of the state. Do you know what she will tell us?”

“No.”

“Well, Jose. We will see. Isn’t it true that you have a new baby in your family and, in fact, on the particular day in question you were feeling somewhat neglected at home due to the new baby?”

“No.”

“Are you sure, Jose? Remember you are under oath here. You must tell the truth.” Jose looked around the room obviously searching for a face he didn’t find. “Are you sure you didn’t have a little extra money in your pocket that week, we understand you worked some overtime and had a few extra dollars in your hand. Jose, didn’t you feel neglected at home and didn’t you attempt to hire John’s friend to perform sexual favors for a price?”

“No.” Jose looked around, turned red and looked at the floor.

“Jose, when the next testimony is made we know this is what she will testify. She has already been convicted of this crime and is serving time for it. She has no reason to lie…so I ask you again, Jose, did you hire a woman to perform sexual favors for you.”

Jose stared at this shoes wishing they were somewhere else. In a very small voice he said “Si.” The translator shook her head and the prosecutor responded to Jose, “Louder, Jose.”

“Si.”

“Ok. So, Jose, after making an arrangement with this woman at the El Cajon Boulevard Bus Stop at the 805 exit, you continued down El Cajon Boulevard towards Park Avenue where there is a small chapel. Is this correct?”

“Si.”

“What happened when you arrived at the chapel?”

Jose, related the above tale and was released with a “Thank-you, Jose,” from the prosecutor. After a few ineffectual questions from the defense Jose was told by the judge he could step down, but to stay available for additional questioning.

“Call your next witness.” The prosecution called upon a young woman who entered from the front of the court-room. She was nicely dressed although her clothes were somewhat worn. She seemed small and drawn-in upon herself and was accompanied by a uniformed attendant.

“Laura, Is it true you were recently convicted of a crime for which you are serving time as a guest of California?”

“Yes’m.”

“Was this crime committed by you, alone, or did you have an accomplice?”

“Someone was with me.”

“Do you see that person in the courtroom today?”

“Yes’m”

“Would you point to that person?” Laura pointed towards the defendants table. “Would the court please note the witness has indicated the defendant. Now, Laura, what was your relationship with the defendant?”

“He was my boyfriend…” She paused and looked down. Just as the prosecutor opened her mouth to ask the next question, the witness offered,”…or he said he was my boyfriend but after just a few days he started loaning me to his friends,” a tear appeared in the corner of her right eye. She continued looking at the floor and mumbled something intelligible.

“What was that, Laura?”

Her head shot up. “I said he turned me into a whore!” Laura began to cry softly.

The prosecutor retrieved a tissue from the bailiff’s desk. “So this was the first time you had done this?”

“No. There were lotsa times.” Laura sobbed, as she continued to cry quietly.

“Can we take a short recess, Your Honor? I think the witness needs some time to contain her emotions.”

“It’s almost lunchtime anyway. Ok, Court will be recessed until 1:30. The jury is instructed to be back in this court room and in your seats before that time.” He rapped his gavel twice and the bailiff instructed the attendants to stand as the judge left the room. We re-sat until the witness and defendant had been escorted through the door at the front of the room. The bailiff repeated the judges’ instructions and released us for lunch.

At 1:35 the case continued. After a couple of short questions Laura was released back to her attendant and she departed back through the door through which she had arrived. The prosecutor then entered a series of foggy photographs as evidence. They were just a few of the photographs that sat in a 4” pile of photos that sat on the prosecutor’s desk. In each one a small part of figure appeared to be threatening someone who looked a lot like Jose. In several of the pictures, although foggy and heavily shadowed, over the breadth of the series several physical characteristics of the people in the photos became clearer. One was a small-statured person that was most certainly Jose. The other figure was featured in several close-ups evidently taken from a security camera of some kind. His facial tattoos, including cheek decorations and three tattoo tears that dripped from his eye, were apparent. His front top teeth were missing in a gap that must have included at least 6 teeth and perhaps more. The defendant was called to the stand without protest from the defense. He stated his full name for the record. We know him as John.

“John, you have been attendant here and have witnessed the testimony against you. That testimony is pretty strong. Do you want to change your plea?”

“No, I didn’t do nothin’”

“John, please turn to face the jury.” She turned towards the jury box. “I’d like to draw your attention the photographs, designated as evidence, numbers 17 through 29…please note the placement of the facial tattoos in the photographs and compare these with the tattoos on the defendant’s face.” She turned back towards the defendant. “John, are those teeth removable?”

“Yes.”

“Please remove them.” The defendant reached up to his mouth and, grasping his front top teeth he pulled downward. The dental bridge came out smoothly and sat in the palm of his hand. As he performed this task the prosecutor retrieved a tissue from the bailiff and placed it on the lip of the short wall that surrounded the defendant on three-sides.

“Please place your bridge on the tissue in front of you.” He did. “Using your fingers please reveal the gap in your mouth resulting from these missing teeth.” The defendant stuck 2-fingers from each hand into the sides of his mouth and, pulling open and to the side, revealed the obvious front gap. It looked suspiciously like the gap in the mouth of the assailant in the photographs. “Thank-you, John.” She turned towards the judge. “No more questions, Your Honor.”

“Questions?” The judge looked at the defense attorney who shook his head indicating a negative answer. The judge glanced at the witness. “The witness is dismissed.”

“Prosecution rests, Your Honor.”

Following a half-hour of ineffectual defense testimony by 2 witnesses who were guests of the state and who gave a minimum of testimony. None of their testimony threw a different light on the case. The jury retired to the jury room where we spent the rest of that day and the next day before appearing in the courtroom to convict the defendant.

This, my first experience with the jury system, was a fascinating experience which reinforced the dynamics of the system which I found to be adequate if not superior to most other systems of justice. I found every single person took this job very seriously and there was, at no time, a hint of considering anything but the evidence and the instructions given to us by the judge.

It certainly reinforced my belief in the American system of justice which may not be perfect, but then, when dealing with people who are, admittedly, each different and unique in their personal philosophies and behaviors, I’m not sure a “perfect” system is even possible.

Either way – this guy was gone.