A week-long date with justice.

Carla Axtman

There's an old joke that juries are generally made up of twelve people too stupid to get out of jury duty. It's entirely possible that I'm just a geek, but I consider that joke a complete insult to civic duty. I've never much appreciated the humor in that particular line. Each time I've been summoned, I've always gladly called in to see if my number was pulled to show up. While it can be a hardship to miss work and perhaps take time away from family matters, I'm a justice girl. It's a privilege that I embrace.

And so a few weeks ago when I received a jury summons, I put the notice in a prominent place and called last Monday night as requested. Sure enough, I was to report to Washington County Courthouse at 8AM on Tuesday morning.

FYI: If you have reason to go the Washington County Courthouse, just don't bother with anything metal. The metal detectors there are exceptionally sensitive--worse than the airport. I observed person after person try and get through only to be brought back to remove an errant belt or watch or steel-shanked shoe. One woman was stopped for bringing a bottle of perfume in her purse. She told the guard to throw it out rather than have to take it back to her car and go through the line again. Getting in to the building was generally very slow, to say the least.

After joining the other 104 citizens in the basement of the courthouse, we waited for several hours until the court staff called our numbers to let us know we'd be headed to various courtrooms.

I noticed immediately that every person in the room was caucasian save one--who was perhaps of Indian descent. I also noticed that the defendant was an African-American male. I wondered when he looked at us if he considered us a jury of his peers.

It turned out that the man was defending himself-with an attorney present with whom he could consult. He was very plain spoken, sometimes difficult to understand. The district attorney's office was represented by a young woman who appeared to be no more than about 27 years old. She seemed very confident to me for such a young person. Her long, blonde ponytail flipped across her back and shoulders as she paced during her opening statement: definitive and self-assured.

The judge and the entire court staff were professional and helpful. And as we sat for many hours of testimony and presentation of evidence I admired how the judge went out of her way to make everything eminently fair. As the defendant was representing himself, the judge was patient and careful, making sure that he was certain of what he was doing and what he was trying to get across to us.

Ultimately we were presented with an impressive stack of evidence. By "impressive", I mean a lot. Piles of stuff. Our defendant was charged with six offenses: four felonies and two misdemeanors. These were serious allegations. We sat there Tuesday afternoon, Thursday and Friday morning listening and watching. But the other kind of "impressive"...meaning the kind that blows you away with how definitive it is...not so much. There were holes in the prosecution's story. Big ones. The kind of holes you could drive an eighteen-wheeler through. By the time the jury was given instruction and sent off to deliberate, many of us were shaking our heads.

How did this case even get to trial? Who is responsible for our tax dollars being spent in this frivolous manner? Who made the decision to charge this man based on this evidence? The twelve of us took the charges very seriously and several expressed sadness for the alleged victim who seemed to have a difficult life, but did not seem credible to me. I have no idea how the Washington County District Attorney's office ever thought her story made sense.

As you may have guessed, we acquitted the defendant of all charges. Unanimously. Even during the deliberations I kept thinking that its possible he could have done some of the lesser stuff, the misdemeanors, but the DA didn't prove it. The defendant had holes in his story, too. But the problems presented by his story were minor compared to what we were seeing from the DA.

This also prompted me to think about Oregon's 10-2 verdict system. Based on my experience this week, I'm more convinced than ever that if a prosecutor can't persuade the entire jury of a person's guilt, then the person shouldn't be convicted. Even though all twelve us were there, it was clear that some of us came out with different notes than others. Some of us heard things differently or gleaned different meaning from the same words. There's a reason we have the burden of proof standard that's "beyond a reasonable doubt". By convicting someone of a crime, we're taking away their freedom. Nobody should have that happen to them unless the entire jury can be convinced to that standard.

Thanks for the good week, Lady Justice.

By Carla Axtman Nov. 14, 2009