Jury Selection: the next phase

The following Sunday evening, I called the jury line as instructed and heard that we were all required to come back on Monday. Oh, well, another day off work.

Once again the jury room was packed, and after waiting about an hour we were all herded into Courtroom B, a place we would get to know well in the next weeks. Eighteen of us were directed to sit in the jury box, and the rest sat in the gallery along the side of the room. I got my first look at the defendant, Kenny Rogers, who was watching each of us carefully. He was wearing what would become a familiar outfit -- khaki pants, a button-down oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up, loafers.

Then the questions began.

Both Tim Stoen, the assistant district attorney, and David Markham, the defense attorney, had copies of our questionnaires in ring binders. Tim Stoen also had a sticky note corresponding to each person in the jury box, arranged, as we were, in two rows of nine. The two men alternated questions. At the end of each round of questions, one of the attorneys could ask for the potential juror to be excused.

One man was asked if his notation on the questionnaire that he "did not feel qualified to judge another human being" meant that he could not be a fair and impartial juror. (He said he could not.) A woman was queried about her family member who worked as a sheriff's deputy. (She said she knew she would be thinking of the situation from a sheriff's point of view.) As a potential juror was excused, Tim Stoen moved his yellow sticky notes around to remind himself who was left. Each time a person was not objected to, the judge asked him or her to move to a certain numbered chair. A fast game of legal musical chairs.

David Markham asked me about my response that I had read the story in our local paper, The Fort Bragg Advocate-News. Had I discussed the story with other people? (Yes, I had, it was an unusual occurrence on the coast, and everyone had talked about it.) Did I recall any facts about the case? (Yes.) Did I feel like I could be a fair and impartial juror? (I believe so, yes.)

The judge asked me to move to seat number eight.

A while later, after some more eliminations and musical chairs, the judge said, "We have a jury." The young woman next to me began a quiet freak-out. She didn't have child-care, her job would only pay for 3 days of jury duty, but she insisted she didn't want to say anything.

We were sworn in.