A Matter of Perspective

 25 May 2002

Last week, while sitting around during one of my long periods of waiting
to be called into the courtroom, I was reading the latest issue of
=Natural History=, the official magazine of the American Museum of
Natural History in NYC.  There's a regular column by Neil de Grasse
Tyson, the director of the planetarium (though perhaps he's the director
of the entire museum) - an astronomer city-born and -bred, who used his
odd job money as a kid to buy a telescope (and he has some interesting
stories about letting various neighborhood people - like the police - to
look through the telescope so they knew he wasn't up to nefarious
actions.)

The article by Dr. Tyson was his summer movie review (and warning to the
summer movies to come) about movies over the past several years and the
literally astronomical errors or prejudices in these movies.  For
example, movie-makers always use a completely full moon or a crescent
moon -- never a half-moon, or a gibbous moon (kinda the opposite a
crescent moon).  And sometimes the position of the moon is quite wrong
for the time of day -- full moon at zenith when people are eating dinner
-- I know in =some= countries people eat dinner at midnight (the peak
time of the full moon), but usually it's closer to 8 p.m. and the like.

Things I note in particular -- other than the math, which doesn't happen
too often (as I assiduously avoid movies which have too much) -- hand
knit and hand crochet designs (I do this to people in real life.  If
someone sits or stands near me with a crocheted top, I will stare at it,
trying to figure out how I can replicate the pattern...and if I know you
well, often I will ask to have a closer inspection and feel it with my
hands - I do this with cloth as well, because not I want to design sewn
clothes), literary allusions (Dickens, Austen, Dante, whatever),
self-references, NYC locations (=When Harry Met Sally= is a fun
exercise...instead of the major locations, which anyone can recognize,
we try to figure out the =exact= corner -- like "That's the room right
before you get to where you can walk down to the fashion exhibit in the
basement at the Met."  Lots of NYers do this -- I'm not insane.)  I also
like foreign language films, even in languages I don't know (but better
with languages I do), with subtitles, trying to "reverse-engineer" the
translation to figure out which word is which (and, when I was in Japan,
realizing the obscene words weren't really being translated.  Man, I saw
middle-aged,  middle-class mothers in Japan with oversize t-shirts
proclaiming "FUCK YOU" on the streets.  That was an interesting
experience.  And the watermelons being labelled "Godzilla Eggs").

Every person has their own quirks and irks about movies (like me hating
to see math in any movie, because they invariably get it wrong) -- some
complain about continuity problems, some worry about anachronisms (did
you see that jeep drive by behind the American colonial soldiers?), some
have plot and character holes as the most abrasive and annoying
qualities of a movie.  Some will go on and on about how the book was
better.

Where am I going with this?  Jury duty.  And let me tell you, this is
going to be my longest entry in quite a while.  Considering it took me a
full page to get to my subject matter, I recommend you get a nice cup of
tea, flick on some background jazz, get in a comfy chair.  Enjoy it
while it lasts (and yes, it does last indefinitely, just not on the
"front page" of my journal).

Overall message -- jury duty has been one of the most interesting
involuntary experiences I have ever had.  I learned quite a bit.

I'm going to try to attack this chronologically, but I may be see-sawing
between certain points at a certain time.

This story starts in January, when I got my first jury summons.  I was
supposed to start teaching at that week, and I really didn't want to
miss that, so I used my "get out of jury duty free" card (everybody gets
=one=) and postponed it until the semester was over.  Truthfully, though
I didn't know it at the time, I should have just done it then.  I was a
standby juror at the time -- I only had to call a certain number 3 days
in a row, and if they didn't need me over those days, my jury duty would
be over and I wouldn't have to serve for 4 more years.

But I postponed it to the day after the final exam of my class, and on
the dot, the jury summons came.  I still had to call, but there wasn't a
question of not being called in.  It was just a matter of when. Monday,
the first day, they didn't need me.  But Tuesday, I was to come in.  As
I hoped, it was at the building that is right next to the subway near my
apartment -- within walking distance.  I came in, I got in line with the
others and turned in my juror card, and sat down and read somebody
else's New York Times.  Around 11 am, one of the court officers called
us over and told us they didn't need us today, come back tomorrow.

On Wednesday, I actually get called into the courthouse (we were in some
kind of municipal building to begin with).  At this point, I find out
that the court is the Queens Criminal Courthouse.  Oooh, yeah, a
criminal case.

We're taken up to the 5th floor, where the courtroom is, but we have to
wait out in the hall.  The courtroom is called "Part K-3" - I guess
they're "parts" of the courthouse.  Eventually we're called in, and we
have to sit in any seat we can get.  There are 30 of us - and they will
pick 14 people - the 12 of the jury and 2 alternates.  The initial
lineup is chosen by the court clerk.  He puts all our jury name cards in
a little barrel (like a mini-version of a hand-crank Bingo drum) and
picks our names out one by one.  I'm the third one picked, right after
another person with the last name Campbell.  His family is also
originally from South Carolina (and they have a reunion every year at
Hilton Head), his height was about the same as mine -- but he was black.
I got to talk with him a bit during one of our long periods of waiting.

When our names were picked, we were to sit in the jury box in the order
we were called.  The court officer also gave us a sheet of paper with
questions on it as we walked over.  These were the questions we were to
be asked later -- name, where we lived in Queens; how long we lived
there; marital status; education level; occupation of self and spouse
(or children); have we (or friend or relative) ever been victim of
crime, accused of crime, witness to crime, participant in a lawsuit; do
we know anybody with legal training; prejudiced for or against police;
and a series of questions as to whether we understand the concept of
innocent until proven guilty.  Most of the questions were yes/no, to be
elucidated if the answer was "wrong".

But first, the judge asked us questions en masse.  It was just to ensure
our eligibility - of age (over 18), U.S. citizen, non-felon, resident of
Queens.  We were all fine.  You can send in proof of the negation of any
of those by mail and get taken off the jury list (somehow I had been on
the jury list for Manhattan when I first moved to Queens - an odd
occurrance - but I proved my non-residence with a utility bill).

The judge conducted the questioning of us, one-by-one,
question-by-question.  For the front row, it seemed rather routine,
though when it came to the questions as to crime, I had to say yes to
all questions -- though all the victims of crime (save myself) and those
accused and convicted of crimes were in North Carolina.  It was never
very safe around NCSU and NCSSM.  And I've been in two lawsuits so far,
plaintiff each time (one is pending, and involves my co-op as the
plaintiff -- as I'm on the Board, I'm directly involved).  But, as I
expected, quite a few people were victims of crime themselves (though
they seemed kinda skimpy on knowing any friends and relatives who were
victims).

The trouble began with the second row.  One of the women back there was
really something. She had had her car stolen 3 times.  Robber in each
case never caught (though she did get the car back a couple times).  She
had been burglarized.  And there were some other incidents.  Don't even
get started with her experience with the police.  However, the judge did
not dismiss her right away.  Some people were dismissed immediately -
the woman who thought the police framed her brothers for a robbery (they
were acquitted) - the man who claimed that, because of his religion, he
couldn't sit in judgment of another person...

In particular, he quoted the "Judge not, lest ye be judged" quote from
Jesus, and if you're an idiotic literalist, who does not understand the
context and meaning of the statement, you've got an easy out from jury
duty.  I believe Jesus was talking about spiritual condemnation - the
condemnation of someone else's sins and shortcomings, not secular
crimes.  At this point, you may wonder why more people didn't try these
kind of outs - claiming the police bugged you, or you were married to a
cop and loved the police, that one's philosophy means one could never be
sure enough to convict a person - part of it is inexperience with what
the judge wanted to hear (we were the first group -- I found out later
that when they called in the rest of the 30, =lots= of people used the
excuses given before.)

But as to why -- the main reason -- if you do these things, you look
like a dumbass.  Now, in my case, I saw no reason to lie about my own
opinions and thoughts, and in the back of my mind, the entire time I was
thinking "Someone's got to decide.  And as a person, I'm pretty fair.  I
think I would be fine on a jury."  I think some of the others were the
same way.

This questioning lasted all day.  Every time a person was dismissed by
the judge (and in a couple of cases, he told the clerk to record that
particular people were to be taken off the jury list for criminal cases
- like the woman whose brothers had been framed), a new name was picked
from the barrel, and the person had to go through the entire list of
questions - the verbal ones first, then the one on the sheet.  The judge
had finished questioning us a little before the end of the day, and then
the lawyers got a crack at us.

Clue to the wise:  if the lawyer is asking you a question, it's because
he thinks he wants you as a juror, and is trying to see if you are the
kind of person he wants.  The questions are related to the ones in the
questionnaire (for example, I've been a victim of a crime - had my
jewelry stolen, and I reported it to the police - noone was caught and
no investigator ever talked with me, but it's not as if they =could= do
anything.  There had been a fire in the apt. below, and I had been in
Mexico at the time) and related to qualities of evidence in the trial to
come (like how does one judge the credibility of a witness (are we
gullible) and can we be convinced by a single eyewitness).

A word on the judge and lawyers.  Judge Hollie is a light-skinned black
man, with a stammer.  He was rather genial and very reasonable and nice.
Other than the stammer, he was very easy to understand.  ADA Harvey was
a young white man (early 30s), very pale-skinned, and would get these
bright red spots on his cheeks as he got worked up - clear voice, never
yelled, never visibly lost his temper, but rather serious and blank.
Defense lawyer Brown was a dark-skinned black man, with a tendency to
swallow his words before letting them out of his mouth.  He tried the
patience of the judge with questions that the judge had indicated he
would not allow ahead of time (we were kept waiting so many times
because of the judge-lawyer conferences) and when he got frustrated, he
would nervously chuckle (which the judge looked askance at some times
"What's so funny?") He didn't know how to phrase a question properly -
he'd say "Would you.." when he should have said "Did you.."  Most of us
on the final jury were =extremely= annoyed by Brown by the end of the
trial.

The first day, Wednesday, we didn't finish all the questions.  So we
came back Thursday morning, for more questions, and then the judge and
lawyers went into another room to pick from amongst us.  This was my
first surprise, but I liked it - I didn't like the thought of the judge
and lawyers going down the list in front of us, each noting an objection
to whichever juror.  Because I can believe some of the objections were
highly uncomplimentary, just because of who did not end up on the jury.

Let me tell you - they like intelligent people on juries.  One person
was confused about some of the questions relating to "reasonable doubt"
and "innocent until proven quilty" -- right out.  Some people who might
have language difficulties were out - the man to my right was a retired
French chef, and couldn't read English very well.  As the main witness
spoke a foreign language, and would be translated, and other witnesses
had spoken with strongly accented English, they needed people who could
deal with that.  Don't tell me that they don't like very intelligent
people -- unless they thought my Master's degree in Math and my degrees
in Math and Physics didn't indicate anything -- perhaps for civil cases,
but both sides in this criminal case picked people who worked in
white-collar jobs, with college educations.

I think lawyers think they can better predict how educated people will
follow certain lines of argument, and because they themselves have been
quite educated, prefer to deal with those kinda of people.  Now, this
may be different in a civil case, especially if it's a case where
there's a good sob story attached (say - medical malpractice where the
malpractice ended with the death of a father of three young daughters),
but don't think your intelligence will get you dismissed.  Most of the
math professors I know have been on a criminal jury sometime in their
lives.  In fact, one of my profs at NCSU told me a jury he served on had
another professor on it.

At this point, I bet you're thinking - damn, what a bore -- what's so
interesting?

Well, everybody pretty much knows that criminal cases are nothing like
what you see on TV and in movies ("You can't handle the truth!"), but
there's still drama. It's just very low-key drama.  There's the tension
between the lawyers, between the lawyers and the judge (esp. between the
defense lawyer and the judge), there's the people watching the trial (I
figured out 4 of them -- who were the =other= ones?), there's the
witnesses and the questions.  But most of all, there's the stuff I
learned - like three main objections to a question or line of
questioning.

You probably know "irrelevant" as a reason for objection, though what's
considered "irrelevant" is interesting.  For example, in trying to set
up an alibi, the defense lawyer was wanting to get the defendant to say
that he usually played soccer on Fridays, but on the Friday in question
he was visiting a relative in the hospital, which is why he remembered
that Friday.  The judge did not allow that line of questioning, because
it was "irrelevant" - only one particular Friday was in question.  This
is a very difficult objection to get around.

Another objection is "leading" - you can't ask a question of a witness
that does not have a basis.  You can't ask "Where did you drive the
car?" if you've not asked if there was a car, and that the witness was
driving it.  It's easy to get around a "leading" objection by backing
up, asking the questions that will get you to the question you want to
ask.

The one that I didn't know about, and is not usually in courtroom
dramas, is "asked and answered".  This is where you basically ask the
same question over (and over and over), trying to get another answer. It
is perfectly fine to say "You said the assailant had short hair, right?"
after a witness has answered "What kind of hair did the assailant have?"
=but= you can't ask "When you saw the hair of the assailant, how would
you describe it?", trying to get a different kind of answer.  The reason
the first is ok is that it's considered a confirmation of an earlier
answer (and the start of a different line of questioning), not trying to
get a different answer.  The "asked and answered" objection happens
quite a bit when a lawyer is not getting the answer he wants from his
=own= witness.  It's fine for the opposing lawyer to ask the same
question again, but only once.

The most interesting part of this process was how often the judge
interjected himself in a line of questioning, or even made the objection
himself, without reference to the other lawyer.  For example, some of
the witnesses gave vague answers as to distance, so the judge asked, to
clarify, to demonstrate stuff.  At one point, he asked the victim of the
crime to show everybody where he was bitten on his hand, by lifting the
particular finger that was bitten.  It happened to be the middle finger.
I had to put my head down because I was sniggering that the judge
basically had the man give the jury the bird. (=snort=)

Back to the jury selection process.  Six of us were chosen from the
first 14 called up.  I was the first chosen, so I ended up being juror
number one.  We were dismissed for the rest of the day, as it was
obvious they didn't need us until the jury selection was completely
over.  We found out on Friday that the left of the original 30 that were
left, many being bored and desperate to get out of the tediousness,
grasped at what was considered "weak" by those in the first 14.  In any
case, they only got 2 more people out of that group.  We came back on
Friday, discovered they had to call a new group in that morning to get
the remaining 6, so they sent us back home.

The final composition of the jury: one white woman (me); two white men
(one retired guy with an Irish name, late 60s, and one guy with a last
name starting "Sb" in his mid-40s.) ; one black man (guy from the
Caribbean, late 30s); Two asian men (one an actor in his early 20s,
Korean but adopted by a Nebraskan couple as a child, one in his late 20s
working in a computer company); two black women (both early 30s, one
worked in human resources at a hospital); 3 hispanic women (ranging from
late 20s to late 30s); one hispanic man (mid 20s).  Except for me and
the actor, the others had been in NYC a long time, most born and bred.
The two alternates: a Polish man, very quiet, late 30s, and a Phillipino
woman, in her mid-20s.

It would be very difficult to get a jury of a different composition in
Queens, though I'm somewhat surprised that the ages were mainly people
in their 20s and 30s.  Where the hell are the boomers?  We had only one!
Everyone worked in an office (even the actor - he was working for an
accounting company as his day job) except for me and the retired guy.  I
was the only person deliberately working several different part-time
jobs.  But I guess that didn't count against me.  The retired guy had
even been on a sequestered jury before, and was well-known around the
courthouse it seemed.

So the trial didn't start until Monday.  First, we heard the opening
statements.  Not much to talk about there, though the drama with the
defense lawyer started -- he opened his statement with "There, but for
the grace of God, go I" and tried to use a personal anecdote, which the
judge did not allow.  Mr. Brown recovered, but he did not do as well
later on.  The judge explained to us at the beginning that he was there
as the judge of the law, and we were there as the judges of fact.  The
opening statements were meant to be taken as a preview of the case that
the sides would show... ADA Harvey kept going on and on about how good
the lighting was and the opportunity the victim had to see his
assailant's face, defense lawyer Brown went on about it was
misidentification, that the defendant, Mr. Edwards, would take the stand
and even say he did not know that area, and that the victim was under a
highly charged situation and could not be expected to make a good
identification of the man who robbed him.

By the way, here's the charges that we had to rule on:

-Robbery in the first degree -- robbing a person with something that
looks like a firearm

-Robbery in the second degree -- robbing a person of a motor vehicle

-Grand larceny in the fourth degree -- stealing a motor vehicle having
value in excess of $100

Now these charges were described by the judge at the very =end= of the
trial, when he was giving his instructions to us. He had to define
"robbing" for us -- forcibly stealing something.  He had to define
"motor vehicle" to us - something that would travel the highways under
motive force other than foot (or maybe he said human power) - a bike
isn't a motor vehicle, and an electric wheelchair is not a motor
vehicle.  A non-highway motor scooter is not a motor vehicle.  Hell, the
judge had to define "owner" to us -- basically, it's not exactly the
person who "owns" the object in question - it's the person in an event
who has greater right to the object - that determines whether something
was stolen or not. Say my mother gave me permission to drive her car,
and one of my sisters took the keys out of my hand and drove away.  I
could accuse her of stealing the car.  I had greater right to it.

Though it seemed silly at the time, it's in very clear language;
non-lawyers have to be explained the laws.  You start to see why lawyers
don't like stupid people on criminal juries -- the defense lawyer
doesn't want people to rule on whether the defendant is =actually=
innocent or guilty, but whether the prosecution has proved its case. In
civil cases, the case doesn't have to be proven beyond a reasonable
doubt - it's decided on the preponderance of evidence from =both= sides
(there's little difference between the plaintiff and the defendant,
other than what will happen once one wins and the other loses.)

Then the interesting stuff begins.  The prosecution calls its first
witness, the victim of the crime, Mr. Kahn.  Mr. Kahn is from
Bangledesh, having come to the U.S. and Queens in 1993.  He testified
using a Bengali translator.  The prosecution led Mr. Kahn through a
description of himself and the crime, the details of which noone
disputed (though I will say something) other than who was involved. It's
an interesting story.

Mr. Kahn is a pizza delivery guy for Domino's Pizza at a store where
most of the employees are Indian (they talked together in Hindi and
Urdu).  He made a stop at a house in a small, residential area - lots of
little houses and yards (but not that small for this area) 6:30 p.m. on
February 2, 2001.  It was night.  He stopped between two streetlights in
front of the house, popped up to the house with the pizza, and went back
to the car to pop the pizza bag in the bag seat -- he had left the keys
in the ignition and the headlights on.  That whole bit took about 20
seconds, and he saw and heard noone on the block.

Then he felt a gun in his back.  "Give me your money and your wallet!"

He turned around, closing the door as he turned (he only cracked it open
enough to put the bag in), raising his hands.  What he saw was a black
man, taller than him (5'6" - 6' tall), with a goatee and black hair
tight to his head (only seeing the front), wearing a black jacket with a
high collar in the back, slim (about 150-170 pounds), and in his early
20s.  He also saw a small, black gun pointed at his stomach, and saw the
perp pull back the slide on the top, and releasing it.

"Give me your money and your wallet."

Mr. K: "We don't use a wallet."  and pulled out the money in his left
pocket -- where he kept the ones for change.  Slick eh?  The robber, no
dummy, reached into the other pocket to get the 10s and 20s.

Then the assailant told Mr. K he was going to take the car, pushed Mr. K
lightly out of the way, and got into the driver's seat.  At this point,
Mr. K's adrenaline kicked in -- he said, "Don't take my car - how am I
going to go?", grabs the door of the car and grabbed the collar of the
black man.  His body was between the door and the car body, and he
didn't see the gun (perp put in his pocket, I suppose).  The car was a
1990 Toyota Corolla - I used to own a '91 Corolla - so the guy was using
his left hand to steer and the right hand to put the car in drive.

Now the car was just a couple houses from the end of the block, and the
road (255th St.) ends at that intersection (with Memphis Ave.).  So when
he reached the end of the block, he turned the car left (not stopping);
unfortunately for the robber, there was a white van going the opposite
way and he crashed into the middle of the van.

This entire time, Mr. Khan is holding on to the car and the collar.

Both the car and van stop after the accident, and the robber tries to
get out of the car, but Mr. Khan is still holding on.  So the guy bites
Mr. Khan's finger (so Mr. Khan lets go), pushes past, and runs down the
street.  At one point, he drops the gun, which clatters, but picks it up
and keeps running, soon turning into the yard of some house.

That's the description of the crime and the full description Mr. Khan
gave the police later that evening.

I believe everything Mr. Khan says there... though lots of questions
enter my mind:

How the hell was he able to hold on during the accident?  The defense
lawyer asked Mr. Khan if he was dislodged during the accident, and he
said, "How could I keep moving, right when the accident happened, the
car stop."  The physicist in me thought "The hell?  What kind of force
must've been involved?  How fast were those cars going?"  I would've
liked to see a picture of the van to estimate how much "give" was
involved.

The biggest thing in my mind -- whoever called for the pizza was setting
up Mr. Khan to be robbed. He wasn't there for any appreciable amount of
time, he didn't see anybody on the block, and that area is off the
beaten path - not near any crowded commercial areas.

We never heard that the police ever talked to that person.  We never
heard from that person at all, or anything about them - their name,
whether they knew the defendant, nothing.

Mr. Khan, though not the sole witness of the prosecution, was the only
real part of the prosecution's case.  Later in the month, Feb. 28, 2001,
Mr. Khan went to the police precinct house, saw a line-up, and
supposedly made the identification of Mr. Edwards.  The only times he
talked to the police, supposedly, was Feb. 2 and Feb. 28.

Mmmmm   Hmmm.

Did you see that description above?  Remember it.  It was the only
description Mr. Khan gave the police.

Now, during this story, the ADA asked Mr. Khan to make an in-court
identification -- Mr. Harvey asked Mr. Khan to look around the room and
tell us if he saw his attacker in the courtroom.

These were the only people in the courtroom at the time:  the clerk, the
officers (2 or 3 of them - one sat by us and one sat by the defendant,
but generally there was no one else.), the judge, the ADA, the defense
attorney, the defendant, the witness, his translator, the jury, and the
stenographer.  We did have an audience at different parts of the trial,
but not at that time.

Only 5 black men in the room - the judge, the clerk, the defense
attorney, the defendant, and one juror.  Now really, all Mr. Khan had to
choose between was the lawyer and his defendant, as all others were
obvious in their roles.  And the lawyer was wearing a suit and tie, the
defendant simply in nice shirt and slacks.

So, when asked for the in-court identification, this is what he did: he
stood up, looked slowly around the courtroom twice, then sat down and
pointed to the corner where the defendant was sitting.

As well, the entire time Mr. Khan was in there, except when specifically
asked to look at the defendant, he stared into the middle of the jury.

As juror number one, I was sitting closest to the witness box and the
judge.  I watched the stenographer sometimes, the judge sometimes, but
most of the time I watched the witnesses.  I almost never looked at the
attorneys, and often I had my head down - some may have thought me
sleeping (some jurors did nod off - this stuff was very dry) or sick (I
was sneezing and coughing due to my allergies) - but I really was
listening to it all.  I put my head down because I didn't want the
lawyers to see my face. I smirked quite often at some questions and
answers, rolled my eyes, and hid guffaws in my coughs.  The court
officer sitting near us saw my reactions pretty well, though.

One of the benefits, sitting so close to the witness box, is that I
could see what people were doing with their hands, their feet, and I
could hear the guy speaking in Bengali.  This was important as there was
a big difference as to the complexion description of the assailant.

The police officers had claimed that Mr. Khan said the man was dark.
When asked by the defense attorney what complexion the man was, whether
the man was light-skinned black or dark-skinned black, Mr. Khan kept
answering "black".  Now the ADA didn't like that, trying to get it to
look like Mr. Khan didn't understand the way to describe this.  However,
I heard what the translator said to Mr. Khan and what Mr. Khan said to
the translator.

The Bengali word for "black" (as a race or skin color) sounds like
"kah-loh".  That was all Mr. Khan would answer to these skin color
questions - Kah-loh. However, if he wanted to say light-skinned or
dark-skinned, he could have, because the translator had translated --
"something-something kah-loh - small particle indicating or -
something-something (entirely different) kah-loh" -- those were two
different phrases modifying "kah-loh".  But all Mr. Khan would say was
"kah-loh".

As well, the defense lawyer asked if the person had a noticeable accent.
Mr. Khan said he couldn't say.

Mr. Khan's testimony took up most of the day, as you can well imagine.
There was direct examination, cross examination, redirect, and recross.
In the last hour of the day, we heard the testimony of Officer Malino,
the man assigned this case. This is what we really learned - he didn't
visit the scene of the crime (someone else did), had Mr. Khan brought to
the precinct to get the description; he, at some point, filled out a
wanted sheet specifically for Mr. Edwards, called Mr. Edwards and
visited his house (not in that order) to get him to come to the
precinct; he didn't actually participate in doing the line-up; he talked
to two of the neighbors involved in the accident - the Banks, who were
in the white van, and Ms. Browne, who was down the street and who saw
the perp running away from the scene of the crime.  That's it.

We didn't hear =why= Officer Malino fingered Mr. Edwards.  We didn't
hear =why= Officer Malino didn't participate in doing the line-up.  We
didn't hear that anybody ever questioned the people who ordered the
pizza.  As well, there was this mysterious form 61, which had the
description: black, 6 feet tall, 150 pounds, 25 years old, filled out by
an officer noone knew.

Mmmmm Hmmmm.

That was Monday.

Tuesday we heard from two more witnesses.  Prosecution had only one more
- Officer Fiella - the guy who did the line-up.  He took a photo of Mr.
Edwards and went to Long Island City (quite a ways away) to get fillers
for the line-up from a homeless shelter.  To set up the line-up, he had
the guys put on caps (because all their hair was different), and the
defense lawyer had asked everyone to wear short-sleeved shirts (because
the homeless men were all wearing similar shirts from the shelter -- and
the officer didn't think to do that himself.)  A picture was taken of
the line-up and entered into the evidence by the defense.  In the
line-up of the 6 men, only two were dark-skinned -- the defendant and
one other filler; of all the men, Mr. Edwards was the darkest.  They all
had more or less of a goatee.  After the line-up (or before, we're not
sure), Mr. Edwards was arrested and his pedigree was taken down - age,
weight, height, etc.

Then the prosecution rested, and we had to go away so that the lawyers
and the judge could confer before the defense started.

The only other witness that day was Ms. Browne.  She was very nervous,
but that was reasonable as she had never been in court before, and she
obviously wasn't that good at speaking English (good enough to not need
a translator though.)  She had been in her car, in the driveway, when
she heard screaming and then saw a tall black man run past her car.  She
estimated him to be 6 feet tall because of where his head was in
comparison to her car.  She couldn't see much because, as she said, it
was dark.

That was Tuesday.

Wednesday morning, when we came into the jury room, to wait for the
judge to call us in, I discussed something with the old, white guy.  He
had made the comment that the defense should rest at this point.  I
agreed; and, in fact, I thought that the defense should not have brought
any witnesses at all. I did not say that, as we weren't supposed to talk
about the case until the very end; however, I did mention I was reminded
of the game Go.  When I learned how to play Go, when I was in Japan, the
hardest part of the game was not the strategy of capturing areas or
protecting areas, but determining when one was finished.  The thing is,
if you play past when the game is "over" - that neither side could
capture more areas, and that both players were simply losing points
(points comes from uncovered spaces that you "own") past then.  When the
experts played, they slapped down the stones quickly, and then, with
most of the spaces uncovered, agreed that the game was over, each side
tallying up their points.  We would stare at the board and think - "How
do they know?"  We'd have to stare at our own boards for 5 minutes to
try to figure out whether the game was over.  This is nothing like
chess, where the end of the game is evident to all.

Still, I told the old man this, and he nodded his head.  After the trial
was over, the old man told the defense lawyer directly that "You should
study the Japanese game Go - you'd learn to know when you've won the
game."

It was a nice tribute to my own thoughts.  I also got my say in to the
defense lawyer.  We didn't say directly that he sucked, but I did say
directly to him that he didn't need to bring up =any= witnesses.

So we find out that Mr. Brown is calling up two witnesses, to establish
an alibi for Mr. Edwards.  I'm not going to get into it, as it was too
annoying.  It doesn't matter because we thought they were lying.  The
two witnesses were Mr. Edwards himself, and Ms. Lewis, the sister of Mr.
Edwards' girlfriend. The most interesting points were that Mr. Edwards'
girlfriend was kicked out of the courtroom for signalling to Mr.
Edwards, and the extended argument between Mr. Brown and Judge Hollie.

At one point, Judge Hollie took a very patronizing (and pissed-off)
tone: "Mr. Brown - we talked about this earlier, and I told you this is
inadmissable.  Why do you think it admissable now?"  Mr. Brown ended up
shouting some of his questions.  It looked very bad.

Then the defense rested after the long argument over letting a
particular piece into the exhibit.  Then defense does closing argument,
a mirror of the opening, and the prosecution did its closing argument.
Both were highly misleading.

Wednesday had started and had ended - the third day.  And it was not
good, and we proclaimed it wasn't good -- other than we knew that the
evidence part was over, and all that was left was for the judge to give
us instructions (which would take one hour) and for us to deliberate.

So Thursday morning we were to start early - 9:30 am.  Every other day
we started near 10:30 am, because Judge Hollie had to talk with the
lawyers, but this time there was nothing left for the lawyers to do.

However, the defense attorney came late - 10:10 am.  Oooh, the Judge was
incensed.  =When= we the jury were =in= the room, the Judge asked Mr.
Brown why he was late, and why wouldn't he apologize to all of us.

Dayumn.

This kind of drama isn't the entertainment we're used to - it's the
everyday drama of people sticking their verbal knives in each other.
It's the subtle and not-so-subtle snubbings, insults, and conflicts --
the abrasions that come from people with different goals rubbing up
against each other.

This happens in the jury room as well, while we wait.  We are not
allowed to discuss the case, so we limit ourselves to bitching about the
ineptness of the defense lawyer, the animosity between him and the
judge, how patronizing the court officer is (damn, she was insulting - I
bet she thought she was been familiar, but I heard nagging teacher in
her voice -- one juror in particular was getting het up.)  We'd also
talk about the news - Chandra Levy, the FBI & CIA, - we'd talk about the
employment scene.  Two of the people were =really= loud and rowdy.  They
ended up spraying each other with water (and we got reprimanded by the
court officer).

So Thursday morning, we hear from the judge alone, who charges and
instructs us.  Then we retire to discuss.  Too many are undecided
(because, I thought, they were asleep during the testimony).  Oh, did I
mention I was the foreperson?  Juror #1 becomes the official
communicator between the jury and the court.  That means I write all
notes and announce the verdicts.  So I write a note to have the complete
testimony of Mr. Khan read back to us.  We do not get to hear this until
after lunch (and the court buys us lunch).

When we heard the stenographer read back the testimony, I realized she
was either reading it wrong (which is what I figured because I could see
the transcript from where I was sitting.)  She kept reading the numbers
wrong.  But it doesn't matter.  It was very flat as a reading, and she
had to pause and backtrack alot, because she wasn't allowed to read out
the objections and the stricken statements.

After that, we requested to see the entire packet of exhibits - picture
of the area, the car (but not the van), map of the area with the crime
scene and Mr. Edwards' address marked, photo of Mr. Edwards, and photo
of the line-up.

We had one hold-out at the end.  She believed Mr. Khan.  I think what
finally convinced her was some of saying that we thought it entirely
possible or probable that Mr. Edwards actually did it, but that the
identification was very weak.

Let me tell you about Mr. Edwards - 5'8", 150 pounds, 23 years old,
=very= black, hair in long cornrows, black goatee.  These all fit the
description of Mr. Khan. However, Mr. Edwards had =massive= eyebrows,
encompassing =more= hair than the goatee.  And Mr. Edwards had a very
broad nose. Finally, Mr. Edwards had a very thick Jamaican accent.

Truthfully, if Mr. Khan has lived in Queens since 1993, and worked in
that area of Queens so long, with a large Jamaican population, why did
he not notice an Island accent? If the light was so good that he noticed
a goatee, why didn't he notice the eyebrows?  Heck, I didn't even need
it in his initial description, I just needed to hear him make a more
positive ID in court and say "Yeah, I recognized him because his nose
was like that and his eyebrows were like that.  I assume Bengali has
words for eyebrows and nose.

In addition, I'm not so sure how good the lighting was.  Sure, I saw the
streetlights, but I noticed there was no night photo.  Could it be
because those lights are weak or not even on?  As well, Mr. Khan saw the
face of his assailant, supposedly, only when he was face to face -- but
he was looking at the gun!  You can't look at the face of a person
taller than you and at a gun shoved in your gut at the same time!  I
give the amount of time he looked at the perp to be 10 seconds, tops.
Mr. Harvey made much of the headlights being on, and the dome light
inside being on, but the headlights were pointing away from the two men
- and even if they stood in front of it you'd only get illuminated knees
- and Mr. Khan was looking at the road when he was hanging on the car.
Good try, but we're not stupid.  Too bad for you, Mr. Prosecutor.  Why
couldn't you pick stupid people?

The jury was very unimpressed with the cops.  We thought that the cops
set up Mr. Edwards.  I actually believe that Mr. Khan was told where Mr.
Edwards was sitting in the line-up.  Or not even that - he was told that
Mr. Edwards was the darkest man in the line-up.  And he was told to make
the ID for whatever reason.  You want to know why I think that?  Because
almost all the men in the line-up were of medium skin-color, and all of
them had the "American mutt" look you get -- Mr. Edwards had very
African/Island features.  And the officer even said that when Mr. Khan
saw the line-up, he went very close to the 2-way mirror.  Perhaps
because he wanted a better look at which was darkest?  The defense
attorney had asked the people to be moved around in the line-up so that
Mr. Edwards wasn't sitting next to the other dark-skinned man.

Now, the alibi was completely bogus.  In fact, some of the jurors didn't
believe =any= of the witnesses.  I didn't agree.  I thought Ms. Browne
told the truth and the whole truth she knew.  I believed everybody else
lied to some degree or another.

I think it possible the Mr. Edwards really did do it.  But I also think
the police were trying to frame him.  It reminds me of something a
person said to me about the O.J. Simpson case: "It wouldn't be the first
time someone was framed for something they did do."  I wanted to hear
better evidence.  I wanted to hear that the police talked to the person
who ordered the pizza and found they were a friend of Mr. Edwards, and
that they had set up robberies before, etc.  Mr. Edwards didn't even
have a record - he had been arrested for stealing a Guinness from a
deli, but he had been acquitted of that.

In any case, we brought back a verdict of "Not Guilty" on all counts.
After that, the judge thanked us, and especially thanked the alternate
jurors, who had to sit there in a different room, not allowed to talk
about the case, until we finished.  We finished at 5 p.m.  He also
mentioned that he thought we made a correct verdict based on the
evidence presented, which made me feel good.  Finally, he told us that
the lawyers might want to speak with us.  Actually, only the defense
lawyer wanted to hear from us. The ADA knows exactly what went wrong, as
the only thing we reviewed was Mr. Khan's testimony and the evidence
packet, that we didn't give a shit as to what the cops said and to what
the defense witnesses said (as the fact we could tell the alibi was a
lie would tell against the defense... if it was for the defense to prove
innocence).

Anyway, I don't have to serve for 4 more years, but it wasn't that bad.
I brought =Games World of Puzzles= with me, and my big book o Dickens (3
novels in one volume).  I got a little bit of Mathcamp work done, but
not much.  Still, it was very informative, and really more interesting
than any courtroom drama could be to me.

So do your civic duty - it really doesn't take that much time out of
your schedule, and it does expand your mind.  As well, our trials lasted
from about 11 am to 5 pm everyday, with lunch hour 1 to 2:15 pm.  Very
leisurely.

Last comment - we had metal detectors to go through, and I had my bag go
through the X-ray machine.  The guys with the X-ray machine remembered
me because I had a bright orange bag (I figured that you'd have to be an
idiot to steal a fluorescent orange bag -- I don't care what it looks
like) but also because I never set off the metal detector, which was
unusual.  Simply put, I dumped =everything= in my bag, wore no metal
barrettes and no jewelry other than my gold ring.  So word to the wise -
be smart when you know you're going to have to go through a metal
detector often - put your stuff in a distinctive bag, and don't wear
metal chains.

So that's the whole story.  I'm tired.