SUMMONS: GRAND JURY

In a city in Passaic County, NJ, on the third floor of the courthouse administration building, there is a large rectangular room where a random group of men and women are gathering, summoned out of their lives by court order to do their duty as American citizens. Jury duty. I am sitting now, in this room, writing in my notebook and waiting for the show to begin.

It is almost 9:00AM. There is an aura of impatient anxiety in the room as people flip open their cell phones and tap out messages to someone in the outside world. A puzzle with most of its pieces waits on a front table. The sky is gray outside the tinted windows, exhausted from the exertions of this morning’s snow squalls.

Someone’s cell phone dings. A man on the other side of the room answers it. His voice is deep, resonant, floats like lava across the room, touching everyone. We learn he is speaking to Manny about Tom and Larry, and how he had been expected to be somewhere else this day. “That ain’t gonna happen, man,” he rumbles into his phone. “I’ve got jury duty.” He pauses, listening, then glances at the entry door where the stream of today’s jurors are still checking in. “I have no idea what’s gonna happen.”

Having served as a Petit Juror more times than I can count, there could be hours of waiting, followed by suddenly jumping up to follow a blue uniform to the courtroom of a judge for further selection. But this is Grand Jury this time. A Grand Jury decides whether or not there is sufficient evidence for a case to advance into the system. Petit Jurors must commit one to three days; Grand Jurors in NJ are required to serve two days a week for seven weeks. You can hear many cases in a day, not just one. AS A GROUP, we are our own legal entity and can ask questions and require witnesses to show up.

But I found this and more out later. Here I am, still sitting in the chair, writing and waiting for a blue uniform to give us the orders of the day. But suddenly, someone said, “ALL RISE,” for the Honorable Judge So-and So. A man in a black robe swept into the room and strode to the podium, then had a clerk swear us in. Be seated.  Out of the approximately 100 people who were assembled, two groups of 23 each would be randomly chosen via computer. As they began calling names, I sensed an energy spinning in the room and going into the back of my head.

I put my book away and zipped my bag closed. Swung my purse over my shoulder. We watched each person whose name was called sigh and roll their eyes before collecting their coats and walking to the line forming at the back of the room. There was a pause.

“Diane Brown.”