MY WORST TRIAL EXPERIENCE EVER
The importance of remaining calm, of not taking any of this personally, is drilled into us. Lawyers are there to question our findings and to emphasize or de-emphasize their importance. I, personally, have no problem whatsoever with this. Staying calm is simple. Sounding intelligent is another matter completely. You have no idea how many times you say “um” until you hear yourself over a loudspeaker.
My favorite trick was to sit back in my chair (as much as I could, I usually had to sit on the edge in order to be near the microphone, because the chair wouldn’t scoot up because it was bolted to the floor) and drape the arm nearest the jury over the armrest, letting my hand go gracefully limp. My hope was this would convey to the jury that I was so secure in my qualifications that I could not possibly get any more relaxed. I’ll never know if this worked.
Then the prosecution gets to re-direct, and the defense can re-cross, and this can go back and forth until they’re done or the judge gets annoyed. In addition, some courts are now allowing the jury members to submit questions, which are reviewed by the judge and read to you, and you can answer the best you can. But eventually comes that wonderful moment when the judge says, “You may step down.” It’s like when you’re giving blood and they finally take the needle out of your arm. You waste no time in grabbing your briefcase, stepping delicately past the jury with a last smile, and hustling down the aisle.
On the whole, it isn’t too bad. The hours wasted in the hallway are still the worst part. But there have been questionable experiences.
The worst, bar none, was a case where two young white boys had kicked their drug dealer to death. I got to sit in the nice, bright marble hallway of an old county courthouse…the only problem was that the defendant’s family did too. The mother of one defendant--who had been evicted from the courtroom by the judge, that was why she was sitting in the hall—and several female relatives figured out who I was in about five minutes flat. I spent the rest of the day and part of the next avoiding eye contact. I could not get drawn into a conversation—they might try to sway me to the their ‘side’, argue my
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