Yes, that's me, MIA, and I am so sorry that I have not been keeping up with my blog. I have made a new commitment, yes that word, to write every Friday. I don't know if anyone is reading this or if anyone has and then came back and I had nothing for you to read. Again, my appoligies. Like all of us, life situations can get the best of us now and then. So here's what happened since my last entry, which was last year.
A windstorm came and lifted the roof to my house. I had to have the roof replaced, which was a good thing because the roof was 30 years old and needed to be replaced anyway, and one day I will write about the HOUSE. It was a good thing because the insurance paid for most of it.
I work 12 noon to 8:30pm. I was at work when the windstorm began. On my way home the winds were picking up and debris was flying about. About 2 miles from house I encountered at least 15 wind devils. the street lights were off at most intersections. It was slow drive home. I thought OMG we are going to have a tornado, and I was right. Even if it weren't really a tornado, it acted like one, it sounded like one, the winds were 90plus miles an hour and the damage was the same as a tornado.
During this windstorm, my granddaughter; Kiara, and her girlfriend; Marina, and my dogs and I listened to what sounded like boulders crashing into the house. At that point everyone including the dogs looked at me with wide, frightened eyes. I said; 'hey, I am not going out there to see what that was, because I want to keep living'. So there we were, Kiara and Marina, huddled together, and me and the 3 dogs.
Finally, in the early morning hours, the wind stopped.
That day I had to go to work. Luckily the tree limbs missed my car, but I had to climb through them to get to my car. I car pool with a friend so I went to her house to pick her up. The amount of felled trees and damage to the area was such that it was impossible to drive to work. So my friend and I did not go to work that day. I went back home and Kiara and Marina had pulled all of the tree limbs off of the house and moved them to the edge of the yard to be hauled away. All in all, the damage to my house was minimal, even though it needed a new roof. I didn't know it needed a new roof. I only knew a few shingles came flying off during that windstorm. Part of my pine tree came crashing down on the roof too, but thank goodness another tree blocked those limbs from doing any serious damage, like creating an unexpected skylight.
So my youngest son, Daryl, sent one of his friends to inspect my roof. Now the HOUSE, yes I will tell you a piece of the HOUSE story, since it is related to the roof story. Once upon a time my brother built a room on the patio and attached it the roof at the back of the house. When I bought the house my youngest, Daryl, was living with me and he tore that room down for me. But in so doing the back of the roofline was left jagged and torn. There was so much work to be done on the property that this jagged roof line was not a priority but something that I needed and wanted fixed. So, with the windstorm moving 'roof repair' to the top of the priority list, that jagged roofline also got fixed, and it looks great!
The windstorm happened in December 2011.
10 days before Christmas Daryl told me that Jasmine; my granddaughter who was 7 at the time; told Santa that she wanted a rag doll for Christmas. Daryl was looking at me with those puppy eyes. I knew what he was thinking.
"Daryl, 10 days is not enough time to make a really cool rag doll."
"Mom, you know you can do it. It's plenty of time for you".
"You are forgeting that I have to go work. Isn't Santa going to bring her a rag doll?"
Yes, Santa is bringing her one but it won't be a nice as what you can do".
Okay, now I was hooked.
"Well, it slows down at work during this time of year, and as long as the phones don't ring, I could work on the doll at work. But why do you want me to make one when Santa is getting her one?"
"Because you and Santa can have a competetion."
Now I was really hooked. "A competition with Santa, humm? Santa and his elves are goin' down!"
So I went to the fabric store and bought the stuff. I cut it all out in the lunch room at work, before my shift. Doll, clothes, everything. I stitched it by hand at my desk, in between calls. Thank goodness that there weren't too may calls. I worked fast. I also embroidered every seam. This is a competition with Santa, after all. Each piece of the doll body was a different fabric. I embroidered shoe laces on the feet/shoes and used rainbow ribbon for shoe laces. All of the clothes were embroidered too. The doll has rainbow yarn hair. Did I mention that this was a 36 inch doll? I took the doll with me every night when I went home. I worked on that doll until 2 and 3 in the morning, then I took a nap and went back to work. I worked non stop and fast on that doll until she was completed. I finished her on December 23rd., and my shoulder was killing me. I tore my rotator cuff many years ago and working on this doll inflamed my shoulder. So now I am going to the doctor, having MRIs and will discuss further treatment with my doctor. But hey, I won that competition.
All this time, I was supposed to be working on a necklace that I wanted to send in to the magazine. I work closely with one magazine because they have been so good to me and they gave me the courage to teach Nationwide. So here's a shout out to Pam and Joanna of Bead Design Studio, thank you so much. The Necklace, yes, I was supposed to be working on that, and I was but took a break for the doll.
Then comes a summons for jury duty. Yuck! But that turned out to be life changing for me. I wrote about that and will paste that writing in at the bottom of this post, if I can. I will give it a go.
After jury duty I began drawing again. I finished the necklace but didn't send it in to the magazine because I was not certain that I liked it the way it was. Sometimes I want too much out of something, and sometimes I don't know when to stop. So this necklace is actually 2 ideas in one, and it works but it would work better as two separate pieces. So I am going to take them apart and make them into the two pieces they should be. Then I can finish writing the directions and then send it in to Pam and Joanna and hopefully they will like it; I hope so.
I stopped drawing about 6 or so years ago when I began learning to bead. I got so involved with the beading that I didn't do anything else. I love beading and I love everything about making jewelry, but I neglected this other part of me. I began drawing again after jury duty and I am glad I have. I also joined a watercolor class at the senior center. This class isn't the type of class I need but it is a start and it is free, and right now free is good, because I am still paying off the roof.
Also this year, I lost one of my dogs. I had 3 dogs; a Rottweiler, Lucie; a Doberman, Fawn, and a Pit Bull, Prophet. Luice was the oldest. She was 13 years old this year. On August 18th we had to take her to the vet and put her to sleep. Daryl took her in for me because I could not, I am a wimp. She had a lovely life. She had a fun life. She had problems with her hip, like all Rotties do.
She had a stroke on August 15th. When I got home from work that night she was very unstable walking, and I noticed her face didn't look right. The next morning I helped her to her feet and she had a hard time getting outside. When we got outside she was confused and very shakey on her legs. I helped her turn around and go inside. I called Daryl and told him that I thought she had stroke and that it was time. Daryl said that he thought I was jumping the gun. I told him okay, that I would stay with her that day and see if she got better. I stayed home from work to nurse Lucie. She tried to get up again, to go outside to potty, but she couldn't make it. She had the look of shame in her face. I told her that it was ok and I stroked her and cleaned her up. I got her onto some towels on her bed and there she stayed. I kept her comfortable and clean, and gave her water. She didn't want to eat. I had some left over pain pills from when Fawn had surgery. I saved them because I knew one day I would need them. She was panting hard so I gave her one pill to put her at ease. I spoke with Daryl again later in the day. He told me that he couldn't take her to the vet until Saturday, the 18th. It was Thursday the 16th. I told him that is ok, that I was not in any hurry to send her.
Prophet and Fawn are her adopted puppies. They are 11 years old now. We got Prophet when she was 3 weeks old and Fawn when she was 4 months old; so Lucie raised these two other dogs. Both Prophet and Fawn took turns laying down by Lucie. One would each lay there for an hour then trade off. When Prophet wasn't laying down by Lucie, she was guarding the doors and the windows. She usually only guards the one door, but this time she was guarding the entire house.
On Friday, 8-17-12, Lucie had a lot of vistors. I called everyone who loved her and told them what was happening and let them know to come visit if they would like to. Lucie was so happy that day. Everyone came to see her. That night, Fawn slept next to Lucie all night and Prophet guarded the doors and windows. Saturday morning Daryl came with a friend and took Lucie to the vet. Daryl has Lucie's ashes, and I miss her greatly. Fawn and Prophet miss her too. At first they would look at Lucie's bed and walk away. But now they will lay down on the bed. It is a great bed; it is temperpedic, and Fawn actually needs it. Prophet refused to eat the day after Lucie died. But she is better now, and Fawn is better, and they are helping me to be better too.
***
Well, if that wasn't enough to read, here is some more. As I promised, the piece about jury duty and the effect that is had on my life.
Jury Duty 2012
Deborah McDermott
aka, Juror #6603
I received a jury duty summons for the week of 3-26-12. I know very few people who get excited about jury duty and I am not one of them. Whenever I have been called I am usually let go the first day. There was only one time that I went through the interview process but again I was released from service. This time that was not the case. I was selected to serve on the jury. I don’t understand why I was selected.
I arrived at the court house early and found my way to the jury lounge. The door was locked so I took a seat in the hallway. It is good to arrive early because there are very few seats in the hallway and there is always a wait for the door to be unlocked.
When the door was opened we had to form a line and enter the jury lounge one at a time and turn in our paperwork. I went inside and turned in my paperwork and then took a seat a table near a window. I brought several magazines with me to occupy my time for the day. My name was called and my paperwork was returned to me. I went back to my seat and resumed reading a magazine. Two Chinese men sat down at the table and struck up a conversation with me. Both men said that their English wasn’t very good. One of the men said that his Spanish was better than his English because he lived in Argentina for 16 years. He spoke to me mostly by having the other man interpret for him. The other man said that he owns his own import business in downtown Los Angeles and that he imports furniture and porcelain from China. His English seemed fine to me. He told me that he has never served on a jury because of his poor English. I told him that I only know two people who actually want to serve on a jury; my oldest son and a co-worker. The man was surprised and asked why. I told him that my son studied political science in college and is very interested in the judicial system and that the jury system is crucial to our freedom. I told him that I am glad we have this system but I would prefer not to be called.
The woman who works in the jury lounge, stepped out of her office and into the center of the room, and conducted the orientation which included a video of our justice system and jury selection process. Later she called the first group of potential jurors by calling out jury ID numbers. My number was not called.
WHEW! I made it through the first one; I thought to myself. One day, one trial. If I make it through the day without being called, I won’t have to worry about it for another year. A second group was called, and again my number was not called in that group. GREAT! Two down, and now it’s lunch time. Half the day is over. After lunch, everyone may be dismissed. Or at least I was hoping so.
Well, after lunch another group was called and I was in that group, so I had to go the courtroom for the selection process and take my chances on being dismissed from there.
Eighteen people were called to sit in the jury seats. The rest of us remained in the gallery seats. I was not one of the first eighteen people. The judge swore all of us in and then began giving direction. As I sat there I thought to myself; I have no control over this so don’t get stressed out. It is what it is and whatever happens, happens. Then, the judge presented the charges. The case was a domestic violence case, a misdemeanor; it also happened in front of a child. My thoughts were; they can’t keep me. There is no way I could serve on this jury even if I wanted to. First, because I am a social worker with Children’s Protective Services; and also, having been a victim of Domestic Violence in the past.
The judge began asking questions of the eighteen people in the jury box. The judge also told the rest of us to pay attention because he will be asking us the same questions. Then, the lawyers also asked some questions. This went on for about an hour. Then the judge and the lawyers spoke quietly with each other. After the lawyers went back to their seats, the judge dismissed some of the people in the jury box, including the two Chinese men that sat with me in the jury lounge. More people were called to fill those seats. I escaped that call as well. The judge then spoke with each of the new potential jurors, and more people were dismissed. It was about 3:45 and court closes at 4:30. My thoughts were; ‘I am almost out of here’; and then my number was called to fill a seat.
I was number fifteen, not yet on the jury. Only 1 through 12 makes it to the jury; numbers 13 and 14 are the alternates.
The judge began to talk to me.
“State your ID number.”
“6603”
“Where do you live?”
“Altadena”
“What is your marital status?”
“Divorced”
“How many children do you have?”
“Three adult children and seven grandchildren”.
“What is your occupation?”
“Children’s social worker with the Department of Children and Family Services; currently assigned to the Child Abuse Hot Line”.
“How long have you worked there?”
“Twenty-eight years.”
I heard several people inhale deeply, and the judge leaned back and then forward. “Twenty-eight years?” he asked.
“Yes sir”.
“So you answer the phones?”
“Yes, sir”. “
So I suppose you also hear about Domestic Violence?”
“Yes sir, every day, but not only that; I was a victim for 10 years”.
The courtroom was already quiet but it became an eerie, creepy quiet.
“We will come back to that”; the judge said.
“Okay”, I responded.
The judge continued; “People call in to the hot line and you make an assessment and determine if your department accepts a case?”
“Yes, sir”
“And who calls the hot line? Children?”
“Sometimes children call, but not usually. Usually it is Law Enforcement, teachers, medical personnel, therapists and general members of the community.”
“So mostly mandated reporters?”
“Yes sir”
“So in twenty-eight years it’s safe to say, you’ve heard it all?”
“Yes sir, and then some.”
The judge leaned forward again and asked; “you were a victim of domestic violence for 10 years?”
“Yes sir, unreported.”
“Unreported”; he responded.
“Yes sir”.
“Let me ask you this. In your job, are you able to make your assessments fairly and without bias?”
“Absolutely.”
“How long ago was it that you were a victim?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I know I left in 1977”.
“So that is 30 something years ago. It must be far behind you with that much time?”
I thought for a moment and then said; ‘time doesn’t matter. It doesn’t rule my life, but has affected by life, but time does not really matter.”
Then the judge said; “but you are able to do your job fairly and without bias.”
“Yes, but I chose working at the hot line rather than working with the families face to face because I did not think I could work face to face without bias.”
The judge responded;
“Obviously you have done well for yourself. You got an education, raised your children, and have worked many years with DCFS. You got help for yourself, I assume?”
“Yes sir, for many years and for my children too.”
The judge nodded, and then asked me; “Do you think you can listen to the evidence presented in this court without bias?”
“Yes sir. I don’t know what is going to happen. I don’t know if something may get triggered and cause me not to be fair and unbiased. But if that happens I will tell you.”
“Well, we can’t ask for more than that”.
The judge was quiet for a minute and he looked like he was going to address the jury and then he turned to me again and leaned forward and said;
“I am curious, if this went unreported, how did you manage to get away from it?”
“I just knew that if he hit me one more time”; and then I stopped, my thought was; ‘oh shit, I can’t tell him, I can’t say it in court’; but then I found the words; “I just knew what I would do, so I packed up my kids and left”.
“How many children?” the judge asked.
“Three”; I responded.
The judge, still leaning forward, looked around the courtroom and then looked back at me, and said; “you have more experience in this mater than anyone in this courtroom.” Then he sat back in his chair.
I am not supposed to be experienced, jurors are not supposed to be experienced with the situation being tried; or so I thought.
The judge faced all of us and told us that the lawyers can remove people from the jury without giving a reason. He said for us not to take in personally. Each lawyer dismissed a person and I was asked to take jury seat number ‘five’. I thought for sure that either one of the lawyers would kick me off the jury but they did not. They decided to keep me. I have no idea why the lawyers wanted me and why the judge allowed it. My youngest son, Daryl, told me that when I told the judge that I would let him know if something gets triggered, that I just bought myself a front row seat. I was not trying to get kicked off the jury and I was not trying to stay. I was just being honest and trying to accept that ‘it is what it is’ and I have no control over what it is. But for the life of me I could not understand this.
One thought that I had was that the defense attorney must think I will be sympathetic to his client because she is a woman, even though she is the accused. My other thought was that the prosecuting attorney must think I will be sympathetic to the alleged victim because I had been a victim. But I was not going to be sympathetic to either side.
The next day I had lunch with my oldest son, David. I told him that I was picked for a jury for a domestic violence case. He said; “no way!” I told him that I agree and that I was terribly confused. David was very encouraging. He served on a jury before and explained a lot to me. He said that there must be some reason that makes it ok for me to serve on the jury and not to worry about it.
The actual trial lasted 2 days and we had one day of deliberations. During this time some jury members made friends and would go to lunch together. I would see many of them talking to each other. No one spoke to me. That was fine by me. I’m a loner anyway, most of the time. I didn’t initiate conversation with them either. But they were very respectful to me, opening doors and moving chairs for me. I thought this was odd but it was kind. I think I was the oldest person on the jury and I felt like a grandmother with the plague. That is until the last day.
I went to lunch with my youngest son. I told him that none of the jurors spoke to me but they would speak to each other. Daryl said; “don’t worry about it mom, but know that you are their topic of conversation”. “I don’t want to be their topic of conversation”. Then Daryl said; “think about it. You were telling this story in the courtroom, and it was like reading a book, and they were waiting for the next word to be read. You don’t understand what a story your life is.”
“Well they just got a glimpse, not even a full chapter.” Then Daryl said, “I know that and you know that but they don’t know that”.
On the second day of the trial, the trial ended at about 3:30. We, the jury, went to the jury room to begin deliberations. The room was quite small with a large round table with 12 chairs around it. There were two restrooms, one on either side of the main room. There was a small table with a coffee pot, coffee and cups. There was just enough room to walk around the table to take a seat. The bailiff gave us a packet with a copy of the charges and the instructions that the judge had already read to us. There was another packet with photos that were evidence, and a packet for writing down the verdict. There were two charges and we had to deliberate both of them.
As we were sitting down a woman asked if anyone wanted to be chairperson and then she quickly said that she would do it. We all agreed that she could since she wanted to do it. She seemed rushed and hurried. The time was about 3:45 and the court was closing at 4:30. There was no way we were going to reach a verdict in 45 minutes. The chair-person wanted to take a vote immediately. The night before, I was thinking about how to be a chair-person if I ended up in that role. My thought was the same, to take a vote at the beginning to find out where people stand. But in the handout of jury responsibilities it said not to do this, that we must talk about it first. Most everyone was a bit taken aback by the immediate request for a vote. Some people spoke up. Then the chair-person said that this is not a real vote, it is just to see where we all are on the matter. So we took an anonymous vote. We were completely split. 6 guilty, 5 not guilty, 1 undecided. This was a good place to begin.
Suddenly, most everyone was talking. There was a great deal of energy. The people that were talking were somewhat scattered in what they were saying. Since this was the first time that any of us were able to even speak about the case, some people needed to let it out. So it flowed and over flowed. The chair person and I disagreed at first and bantered a bit and then I began to feel somewhat like a referee, ‘slash’, educator. With what some of what was being said I could see that some and most of the people knew nothing of family dynamics. One gentleman said that none of this made since to him because he wouldn’t have behaved that way in this situation. I told him that it is not about him and what he would do. I also did not want to offend him, so I also said that it is not about me and what I would do. I told him that each person in the room would have done a completely different thing and that it was not about what any of us would do, it was about what these people did on this particular day. One gentleman looked right at me and said; ‘you’re a social worker, you hear this all time.” And then he went on asking why this and why that and why did the police do this and not that. I was glad that I could answer some of their questions and help calm them down. It was a lot of work and I was exhausted at the end of this first 45 minutes, and when I got home I needed another nap. I was taking naps each day when I got home. I never expected this to be so much work.
It was 4:30 and time to leave. We were instructed to be back at court in the morning to continue deliberations.
That evening when I got home I was thinking about the case and going over what I remember of the testimony. Then I realized that I most likely took a referral for this family. Some of the family member’s names were very unusual; and the officer’s name was unusual too, and I vaguely remembered taking a referral with those names. I could not be certain, because in my work you begin to think that you have heard everyone’s names and all of these stories can run together, but then again it is at least a 50-50 chance, and it felt more like 90%, that I took the referral on this particular family for this particular incident and I had to inform the judge. I was ambivalent about telling the judge, I wasn’t sure that it was important. I thought if I did not tell the judge and it was important then it may ruin the case and also reflect poorly on me and possibly DCFS, so I decided to tell him. I knew that he would ask me if this would create a bias for me and I knew the answer was no.
The next morning I arrived early at the court house. I went upstairs and took a seat in the hallway outside of the court room. Other jurors arrived and took seats as well. I was waiting for the bailiff because I needed to talk to him. When the bailiff came to see if we were all there I told him that I needed to speak with him in private. He took me to a private area and I told him my concern and he said he would inform the judge. The bailiff told me that the judge will most likely call me into the court room to talk to me. I went back to the hallway and took a seat with the rest of the jurors.
The woman who was our chair-person sat down next to me and began talking to me. She asked me about my job and she told me about hers. She said that she works at an upscale retirement home for women. I think her position there is much like a case manager. She has worked there several years. She told me that she would like to work more closely with families. She asked me if she could get my phone number after we finish at court. I told her that I should give it to her now because I needed to talk to the judge and I did not know if he would allow me to stay. So she took my name and phone number. We continued our conversation until the bailiff came and took us all to the deliberation room.
The judge called me to the court room. The bailiff told the other jurors not to deliberate while I was not there. I explained my concern to the judge. The judge asked me if I do any investigations in my course of work. I said that I did not. He also asked me if the investigating social worker reports their findings back to me. I told him that they do not. He asked me if anything that I think I may have learned in this case would cause me to be biased. I told him that it would not. He then asked me if I had discussed this with any of the jurors and I told him I had not. He thanked me for that and asked me not to talk to the other jurors about it and said that I could stay on the jury. I was really happy; happy that I decided to speak up and tell him, and happy that I could stay on the jury.
Our deliberations were much different than the day before. People were calmer and were able to take each piece of evidence and each argument one at a time. The Chair-person took control and was a great guide through the reading of the charges and breaking down the law piece by piece. Each of us sorted out our opinions from evidence and applied the law to the evidence and by 11:45 we had a verdict on the first count. The second count was easier and very clear and we were all unanimous on the second count from the onset. So we had our verdicts. It was noon and we called for the bailiff to inform him that we had a verdict.
The bailiff came to the deliberation room and told us that we were to take our lunch break and that we would meet back in the deliberation room and wait for the judge to call us into the court room.
Everyone went downstairs and was leaving for lunch. I went to the ladies room on the first floor only to find a do not enter sign at the door. So I took the elevator up to the second floor to use the ladies room there. When I walked in, the defendant was there washing her hands. She looked at me with a half-smile and slightly nodded. I did not smile or nod. I just noticed that she was there and I walked into the stall. When I left, she was gone. It was a strange meeting. I could see no reason for her to be on the second floor since our courtroom is on the third floor and there is a restroom there. I was on the second floor by chance, only due to the closure of the restroom on the first floor. I wondered if she went to the second floor to stay away from the jurors; and then I was there. I may be making too much of this chance meeting but I do not think so. She is young, and hopefully getting out of the abusive relationship she has been in for the last ten years. I am not so young, but I am free. She is what could have been my past, but I got out before anyone ended up arrested, or worse. Hopefully, my story, my partial story that I shared in the courtroom can help her find her future. I mentioned to my friend, Diane, and to my oldest granddaughter, Kiara, in regards to being on this jury; I have felt like I was standing on a platform at a train station and that I stepped onto the train and when I did I stepped into the twilight zone. It has been the strangest feeling, and I am taking the time to process it and understand it.
Every thing happens for a reason.
There is a mutual purpose for every person met on our life’s journey.
It is up to us to pay attention and figure it out if we can.
After the lunch break I went back to the third floor and waited outside of the courtroom. Other jurors were gathering there as well. Another juror approached me and told me that she admired me. I thanked her. She told me that she admires the work that I do and that I give back to the community every day and have done so for so many years. She also said that she admires what I have done with my life and for my children. She acknowledged that many and most women don’t get out of abusive relationships, and certainly don’t get as far as I have in life. Again, I thanked her. I asked her about herself and she told me where she works and that she and one of her sisters are the caretakers for her mother who had a stroke last year. I told her that what she is doing for her mother is remarkable, that not everyone would do that. She asked me about my children and if they live nearby. Just then, the woman who was our chair-person joined us. I told the first woman that my children do live nearby and I get to see them and my grandchildren regularly. She asked me how old my children are and I told her that my youngest son will be 40 in September, my older son is 43, and my daughter is 46. Both women looked at me with the look I always get when I say the ages of my children. She also asked me what work they do. I told both women that my daughter is a retired teacher; that she taught for 10 years but had to retire due to long term injuries from a near fatal auto accident in 1990. I told them that my oldest son is also a teacher and teaches 4th grade, and that my youngest son owns his own business cleaning swimming pools. I told them that they are all doing well and that my grandchildren all live in ‘no hit’ households and know nothing of any kind of abuse.
The one juror asked me about my children’s healing process when they were children and I told her. The chair-person asked me if I thought 30 was too old to have children. I said of course not. You are more mature at 30 and can handle it better. She said, “yes and there is usually more money.” “Yes, that too”, and then I said, “I had all of my children by the time I was 21, and I didn’t start college until after I left”. I felt this is what she wanted to know. “Were you married when you had your children? “ she asked. I just told her that I got married at 17. There was no reason to go into everything else. Besides, she has my phone number and if we end up friends, she will know the entire story.
I didn’t feel like I had the plague anymore. People were talking to me. I didn’t mind answering their questions. I am used to it. I did feel strange, because I felt special and that is uncomfortable for me. I don’t see myself as special or extraordinary. I am where I am due to determination and hard work, and those things are available to everyone if they accept them.
The bailiff came and escorted us back to the deliberation room. We were only there a few minutes, but while we were there a few of the men had questions for me so I answered their questions. One gentleman said that he would love to talk to me at length about what I do and my history. I was impressed; men don’t usually say that to me. It is usually the women. I just smiled and nodded.
One woman mentioned the defendant’s children and her concern for what may happen to the children. I told her that was out of our hands and that we had to follow the letter of the law and that it is up to the judge to be compassionate, not us. We found the defendant ‘not guilty’ of the harsher crime, and ‘guilty’ of the lesser crime. Even if she were guilty of the incident, there was not enough evidence to come to a guilty verdict beyond a reasonable doubt, with the evidence at hand. I did not walk into that deliberation room thinking that I would vote the way I did. But the law is clear once we read it, and applied it, and I feel absolutely certain that I and the other jurors followed the law and the verdict is correct.
The judge called for us to come to the courtroom. As we stood up one man reached out to shake my hand and he said that he wanted to tell me that it was a pleasure and an honor to meet me and he wanted me to know that in case he didn’t have a chance to tell me after court. Most of the other jurors followed with the same. I told them that it was a pleasure and an honor for me too, to meet them and to serve with them.
We went to the courtroom and the judge read the verdict. The judge dismissed us and told us that if anyone wanted to talk to the defendant we could wait in the hall. I thought about it but thought it best to leave.
As we left the courtroom, the defendant had tears in her eyes and said thank-you to each of us as we walked out.
This time I gave her a slight nod as I walked by.
As I left the courthouse, I stopped for a moment at the steps. An intense feeling washed over me. I turned back and looked again at the courthouse, and thought about the judge who allowed me to stay. Thank you, I whispered.
On my way home from court, I ran some errands, and I sent Kiara a text telling her that jury duty was over. Later I picked her up from Pasadena City College where she attends. Kiara is 17 years old and in her second semester of college. As soon as she got in to the car she asked; “can you talk about the case now?” “Yes, I can”; and so I told her about it.
She was quiet for some time and then she spoke. “This case, and your being on this jury is an acknowledgement that your experience is important in helping people, and an affirmation for everything our family has gone through.”
“Ya know, Kiara, I have the strangest feeling. When I left the court house I felt great, exhilarated and washed clean. I don’t understand why I feel washed clean. It is the feeling I was hoping to get, but did not get, when I got baptized when I was 15 years old. It feels beyond wonderful.”
Kiara responded; ”it sounds like you need to call Sharon.”
“I already did. I called her the day I was picked for the jury and told her that I was going to keep a journal of it and then come in for a session when it was over.
“Good idea Gramma.”
******
I called Sharon and left her a voice mail to let her know that I was dropping off a copy of my journal entry. I asked her to read it and call me so that I could make an appointment to come in. A few days later Sharon called me and told me that her earliest open appointment was in two weeks, so I took it.
“I really want to talk with you about this, Debbie. This is really exciting!"
Sharon’s voice was exuberant. I could hear the smile in her voice.
"So I will see you in 2 weeks."
"Yes, I will be there".
The next day I was talking with Daryl on the phone and told him that I was going in to see Sharon.
"You still see her?", he asked.
"Yes, I see her about three or four times a year".
"Why don't you just go have coffee with her or something?"
"I can't, if I do that, then our relationship would change, and I need her to remain my therapist. Can you imagine trying to break in another one. They would want me to start all over and that is just a waste of time."
"Do you really think you still need therapy?"
"No, but if something does happen I may actually need therapy and she is there. Usually I just check in and let her know how everyone is doing. We do a little work, but it is usually just to say hi or to visit for birthdays and Christmas. But now, I really need her for clarification on what is going on with me. I am so excited about this and I need her to help me to understand it."
Diana, my daughter, also called me while I was waiting to see Sharon. I don't often hear from Diana and I don't call her very often either. It isn't that we don't want to talk to each other, it is just her health or lack of it that prevents us from seeing each other or speaking to each other very often. I have learned not to take this personally. I used to, but I know that if she is having a good day, she will call me; and when I leave her voice mails I know she will return the call when she is feeling well enough. I told Diana that I had been on a jury. She was excited. And then I told her it was a domestic violence case. She chuckled and almost screamed into the phone; "you lied to the judge!".
"I did not".
"You did, you had to lie, or you bribed him."
"I did not. I told him the truth and he kept me."
"The lawyers kept you too?"
"Yes."
"They must have really wanted to fry the guy".
"It was a woman."
"Really?"
"Yes".
I told Diana about what happened at court and the feelings I was having. She asked me to send her a copy of my journal entry. So I did. She asked me if I were
going to see Sharon, and I told her "of course". It's funny, my entire family including my brother and nephew had the same reaction about my serving on this jury.
Finally, Thursday evening, April 19, I had my appointment with Sharon. Sharon was standing at the door waiting for me. She was wearing a red hat. She loves hats and they look fantastic on her. Her smile engulfed her entire being. She was radiant. We went inside and sat in our usual places. She just sat there smiling, waiting for me to begin.
"I am so happy!"
"You look happy", she said.
"You read it, right?"
"Of course I read it; her smile grew even bigger; this is very exciting!"
"I can't believe the judge let me stay on this jury".
"At first, I was surprised too. But as I read it I saw why he allowed you to stay."
"I still don't see it".
"He asked you a lot of questions and he saw your integrity. He recognized your strength and honesty, and he saw you. He saw that you would not be influenced by anyone or anything. He saw in you what I see in you and what other people see in you and what I have been hoping all of these years that you will see in yourself."
"I see it".
"I think you see it now, but you have always said that you see it, but you haven't. You always push back and say to yourself, 'but you don't really know me, if you really knew me you wouldn't think so highly of me; isn't that right?"
"Yes, it is. One of the things I wrote about is how the jurors made me feel special and that I have a difficult time feeling that, and that I don't think that I am special at all. But when I read it over a few times I realized that I am special, because even though everyone has access to do the work if they want to, most people won't do it, and I did, and that is what makes me special."
Sharon responded; "They are afraid to do the work. I see so many people who are too afraid. They don't have the courage that you have".
" I had to muster the courage. I didn't have a choice. I had those kids and I could not leave them in this world without a mother. They were my only reason to take another breath, so I didn't have much of a choice. I had to do the work. It was for them. I worked hard in therapy for them.”
Sharon was thoughtful and said; "I remember". Then she asked me; ‘when did it change and become for you?”
“I’m not sure, maybe somewhere in the middle. My going to school, and everything, was for them. I am not sure when I became important enough for it to be for me.
(this is important to me, I need to sit with this for a while and find when and why it became for me)
"Looking back, I can now see how absolutely worthless I felt because of those people, and how so unfair that was to me. At that time I could not see the depth of worthlessness that engulfed me, but I can see it now and my heart breaks for who I used to be. And now I have this feeling of being washed clean. Why do I have this feeling?"
"Let's look at that. What do you think it’s about?”
“I don’t know. That is why am I here. I need you to help me. At first I thought it was just excitement and neurotransmitters, and I thought it would pass in a while, but it didn’t, it stayed with me for several days. Then I noticed that it was gone and I thought, ’oh, it was just fleeting, and it was nice while it lasted‘. But then it immediately came back and it has stayed with me.”
“Let me ask you this. When the feeling went away, how long was it gone and what was going on in your life at that time?”
“It only went away for about a day, and I was just busy with life and things I had to do.”
Sharon nodded, and said; “When it slips away like that, it is just in the background. It is still there, and it will always be there. This is really important for you to remember. That it will always be there even when you don’t feel it in any given moment, it is still there.”
I nodded and said “ok, but what is it? Why do I have this feeling of being washed clean?”
Sharon leaned forward again, and I could see the intensity in her expression. She said, “you have finally forgiven yourself. After all this time, you have forgiven yourself. This is what I have always hoped for, for you.”
“That’s why I feel so wonderful and happy?”
“Yes”.
“I never thought I would get here. I wanted to get here but I thought it was not for me and that was okay with me. Life has been so good and I have been happy these last few years and my family is doing so well. I don’t worry about my children anymore. They have all arrived. They are all standing on their own feet, and I am able to let go of them and relax; and my grandchildren are treated so well. I thought that if this is as a good as it gets, then I will take it because it is really good. I never expected this feeling. It was so unexpected. It seemed to have come out of no where. It wasn’t there and then there it was, and I feel great.”
“Can you see this judge and your serving on this jury as a metaphor for your life?
“What do you mean?”
“The judge saw you. He saw your innocence. He found you worthy to sit on this jury. Not just any jury, but this jury, and it had to be this jury. This judge found you not guilty; and then you were on this jury.”
I didn’t think Sharon’s smile could get any bigger, but it did and she continued;
“ You sat on your own jury and judged yourself and found yourself not guilty.”
“Oh my God, that’s what I did. That’s why this entire thing has been so surreal, it feels divine. It’s like my spirit guide was sitting around and said ‘it’s time’, so he painted this picture and put me in it.”
“Yes, it’s perfect. You had to be on this jury. No one could have orchestrated this. No one could even write it as a script.”
“This judge, I really liked him. He is so smart”.
Sharon chuckled and said; ‘yes he is’.
“He was also kind; I could tell that he was kind and fair and compassionate, and that he really deserved to be a person that judges people. I trusted him. And he judged me, and that freed me to find myself not guilty.”
“Yes!”; Sharon exclaimed.
“Now I feel ‘unzipped’, like there is this big zipper down the front of me and it has been unzipped and I have been opened up. I feel like I am standing there, completely opened up with my arms spread out to either side of me; completely open.”
“That’s because you now trust the world and yourself in it. You are standing in the most powerful position anyone can stand in; arms open out to the sides. That is the ultimate position of strength, and power, and trust. Having no fear and nothing can harm you. You will also be able to recognize when a person is good or not. You will see. When you are that open, you can see the truth in another person.”
Sharon had tears in her eyes, she was crying.
“Are you ok?,” I asked.
“Yes, I just had this vision of when you were a little girl and you were dancing and twirling with your father. I see the trust and innocence that you had then. You are that person again, and it is moving.”
“ I let myself go back there, to my father. I was so small, and he was so tall and I felt so safe with him. I understood what Sharon was saying .”
“Sharon, I heard everything you said but some of it is difficult to hold on to and I want to hold on to it, so can you repeat a few things so that I will not forget them?”
“Of course.”
So Sharon and I went over a few things to make sure I could hold on to them.
Sharon asked; ‘what else can you do to make sure you remember these things?”
“I will write it and read it over a few times”.
“That’s good. What about a drawing? Isn’t it time you did some drawings?”
“Yes, it has been a while hasn’t it? And I have a lot of images in my mind.”
“ I am sure you do.”
“Ok, I will do some drawings and bring them in.”
“ I can’t wait to see them.”
“ Before we end, I was thinking of sending the judge a copy of my journal entry. Do you think that would be ok?”
Sharon beamed, “yes, I think that is a fabulous idea. I think he would really appreciate it.”
“Thank you.”
“You are welcome, and it is time for me to go home.”
We both smiled and hugged, and we both went home.
*****
Well, that makes up for not writing the blog for almost a year. As I said I have madea commitment to write every Friday. Wish me luck, I may need it. I will do my best.
TTFN, again ta ta for now for those of you who have not read Winnie The Pooh
A windstorm came and lifted the roof to my house. I had to have the roof replaced, which was a good thing because the roof was 30 years old and needed to be replaced anyway, and one day I will write about the HOUSE. It was a good thing because the insurance paid for most of it.
I work 12 noon to 8:30pm. I was at work when the windstorm began. On my way home the winds were picking up and debris was flying about. About 2 miles from house I encountered at least 15 wind devils. the street lights were off at most intersections. It was slow drive home. I thought OMG we are going to have a tornado, and I was right. Even if it weren't really a tornado, it acted like one, it sounded like one, the winds were 90plus miles an hour and the damage was the same as a tornado.
During this windstorm, my granddaughter; Kiara, and her girlfriend; Marina, and my dogs and I listened to what sounded like boulders crashing into the house. At that point everyone including the dogs looked at me with wide, frightened eyes. I said; 'hey, I am not going out there to see what that was, because I want to keep living'. So there we were, Kiara and Marina, huddled together, and me and the 3 dogs.
Finally, in the early morning hours, the wind stopped.
That day I had to go to work. Luckily the tree limbs missed my car, but I had to climb through them to get to my car. I car pool with a friend so I went to her house to pick her up. The amount of felled trees and damage to the area was such that it was impossible to drive to work. So my friend and I did not go to work that day. I went back home and Kiara and Marina had pulled all of the tree limbs off of the house and moved them to the edge of the yard to be hauled away. All in all, the damage to my house was minimal, even though it needed a new roof. I didn't know it needed a new roof. I only knew a few shingles came flying off during that windstorm. Part of my pine tree came crashing down on the roof too, but thank goodness another tree blocked those limbs from doing any serious damage, like creating an unexpected skylight.
So my youngest son, Daryl, sent one of his friends to inspect my roof. Now the HOUSE, yes I will tell you a piece of the HOUSE story, since it is related to the roof story. Once upon a time my brother built a room on the patio and attached it the roof at the back of the house. When I bought the house my youngest, Daryl, was living with me and he tore that room down for me. But in so doing the back of the roofline was left jagged and torn. There was so much work to be done on the property that this jagged roof line was not a priority but something that I needed and wanted fixed. So, with the windstorm moving 'roof repair' to the top of the priority list, that jagged roofline also got fixed, and it looks great!
The windstorm happened in December 2011.
10 days before Christmas Daryl told me that Jasmine; my granddaughter who was 7 at the time; told Santa that she wanted a rag doll for Christmas. Daryl was looking at me with those puppy eyes. I knew what he was thinking.
"Daryl, 10 days is not enough time to make a really cool rag doll."
"Mom, you know you can do it. It's plenty of time for you".
"You are forgeting that I have to go work. Isn't Santa going to bring her a rag doll?"
Yes, Santa is bringing her one but it won't be a nice as what you can do".
Okay, now I was hooked.
"Well, it slows down at work during this time of year, and as long as the phones don't ring, I could work on the doll at work. But why do you want me to make one when Santa is getting her one?"
"Because you and Santa can have a competetion."
Now I was really hooked. "A competition with Santa, humm? Santa and his elves are goin' down!"
So I went to the fabric store and bought the stuff. I cut it all out in the lunch room at work, before my shift. Doll, clothes, everything. I stitched it by hand at my desk, in between calls. Thank goodness that there weren't too may calls. I worked fast. I also embroidered every seam. This is a competition with Santa, after all. Each piece of the doll body was a different fabric. I embroidered shoe laces on the feet/shoes and used rainbow ribbon for shoe laces. All of the clothes were embroidered too. The doll has rainbow yarn hair. Did I mention that this was a 36 inch doll? I took the doll with me every night when I went home. I worked on that doll until 2 and 3 in the morning, then I took a nap and went back to work. I worked non stop and fast on that doll until she was completed. I finished her on December 23rd., and my shoulder was killing me. I tore my rotator cuff many years ago and working on this doll inflamed my shoulder. So now I am going to the doctor, having MRIs and will discuss further treatment with my doctor. But hey, I won that competition.
All this time, I was supposed to be working on a necklace that I wanted to send in to the magazine. I work closely with one magazine because they have been so good to me and they gave me the courage to teach Nationwide. So here's a shout out to Pam and Joanna of Bead Design Studio, thank you so much. The Necklace, yes, I was supposed to be working on that, and I was but took a break for the doll.
Then comes a summons for jury duty. Yuck! But that turned out to be life changing for me. I wrote about that and will paste that writing in at the bottom of this post, if I can. I will give it a go.
After jury duty I began drawing again. I finished the necklace but didn't send it in to the magazine because I was not certain that I liked it the way it was. Sometimes I want too much out of something, and sometimes I don't know when to stop. So this necklace is actually 2 ideas in one, and it works but it would work better as two separate pieces. So I am going to take them apart and make them into the two pieces they should be. Then I can finish writing the directions and then send it in to Pam and Joanna and hopefully they will like it; I hope so.
I stopped drawing about 6 or so years ago when I began learning to bead. I got so involved with the beading that I didn't do anything else. I love beading and I love everything about making jewelry, but I neglected this other part of me. I began drawing again after jury duty and I am glad I have. I also joined a watercolor class at the senior center. This class isn't the type of class I need but it is a start and it is free, and right now free is good, because I am still paying off the roof.
Also this year, I lost one of my dogs. I had 3 dogs; a Rottweiler, Lucie; a Doberman, Fawn, and a Pit Bull, Prophet. Luice was the oldest. She was 13 years old this year. On August 18th we had to take her to the vet and put her to sleep. Daryl took her in for me because I could not, I am a wimp. She had a lovely life. She had a fun life. She had problems with her hip, like all Rotties do.
She had a stroke on August 15th. When I got home from work that night she was very unstable walking, and I noticed her face didn't look right. The next morning I helped her to her feet and she had a hard time getting outside. When we got outside she was confused and very shakey on her legs. I helped her turn around and go inside. I called Daryl and told him that I thought she had stroke and that it was time. Daryl said that he thought I was jumping the gun. I told him okay, that I would stay with her that day and see if she got better. I stayed home from work to nurse Lucie. She tried to get up again, to go outside to potty, but she couldn't make it. She had the look of shame in her face. I told her that it was ok and I stroked her and cleaned her up. I got her onto some towels on her bed and there she stayed. I kept her comfortable and clean, and gave her water. She didn't want to eat. I had some left over pain pills from when Fawn had surgery. I saved them because I knew one day I would need them. She was panting hard so I gave her one pill to put her at ease. I spoke with Daryl again later in the day. He told me that he couldn't take her to the vet until Saturday, the 18th. It was Thursday the 16th. I told him that is ok, that I was not in any hurry to send her.
Prophet and Fawn are her adopted puppies. They are 11 years old now. We got Prophet when she was 3 weeks old and Fawn when she was 4 months old; so Lucie raised these two other dogs. Both Prophet and Fawn took turns laying down by Lucie. One would each lay there for an hour then trade off. When Prophet wasn't laying down by Lucie, she was guarding the doors and the windows. She usually only guards the one door, but this time she was guarding the entire house.
On Friday, 8-17-12, Lucie had a lot of vistors. I called everyone who loved her and told them what was happening and let them know to come visit if they would like to. Lucie was so happy that day. Everyone came to see her. That night, Fawn slept next to Lucie all night and Prophet guarded the doors and windows. Saturday morning Daryl came with a friend and took Lucie to the vet. Daryl has Lucie's ashes, and I miss her greatly. Fawn and Prophet miss her too. At first they would look at Lucie's bed and walk away. But now they will lay down on the bed. It is a great bed; it is temperpedic, and Fawn actually needs it. Prophet refused to eat the day after Lucie died. But she is better now, and Fawn is better, and they are helping me to be better too.
***
Well, if that wasn't enough to read, here is some more. As I promised, the piece about jury duty and the effect that is had on my life.
Jury Duty 2012
Deborah McDermott
aka, Juror #6603
I received a jury duty summons for the week of 3-26-12. I know very few people who get excited about jury duty and I am not one of them. Whenever I have been called I am usually let go the first day. There was only one time that I went through the interview process but again I was released from service. This time that was not the case. I was selected to serve on the jury. I don’t understand why I was selected.
I arrived at the court house early and found my way to the jury lounge. The door was locked so I took a seat in the hallway. It is good to arrive early because there are very few seats in the hallway and there is always a wait for the door to be unlocked.
When the door was opened we had to form a line and enter the jury lounge one at a time and turn in our paperwork. I went inside and turned in my paperwork and then took a seat a table near a window. I brought several magazines with me to occupy my time for the day. My name was called and my paperwork was returned to me. I went back to my seat and resumed reading a magazine. Two Chinese men sat down at the table and struck up a conversation with me. Both men said that their English wasn’t very good. One of the men said that his Spanish was better than his English because he lived in Argentina for 16 years. He spoke to me mostly by having the other man interpret for him. The other man said that he owns his own import business in downtown Los Angeles and that he imports furniture and porcelain from China. His English seemed fine to me. He told me that he has never served on a jury because of his poor English. I told him that I only know two people who actually want to serve on a jury; my oldest son and a co-worker. The man was surprised and asked why. I told him that my son studied political science in college and is very interested in the judicial system and that the jury system is crucial to our freedom. I told him that I am glad we have this system but I would prefer not to be called.
The woman who works in the jury lounge, stepped out of her office and into the center of the room, and conducted the orientation which included a video of our justice system and jury selection process. Later she called the first group of potential jurors by calling out jury ID numbers. My number was not called.
WHEW! I made it through the first one; I thought to myself. One day, one trial. If I make it through the day without being called, I won’t have to worry about it for another year. A second group was called, and again my number was not called in that group. GREAT! Two down, and now it’s lunch time. Half the day is over. After lunch, everyone may be dismissed. Or at least I was hoping so.
Well, after lunch another group was called and I was in that group, so I had to go the courtroom for the selection process and take my chances on being dismissed from there.
Eighteen people were called to sit in the jury seats. The rest of us remained in the gallery seats. I was not one of the first eighteen people. The judge swore all of us in and then began giving direction. As I sat there I thought to myself; I have no control over this so don’t get stressed out. It is what it is and whatever happens, happens. Then, the judge presented the charges. The case was a domestic violence case, a misdemeanor; it also happened in front of a child. My thoughts were; they can’t keep me. There is no way I could serve on this jury even if I wanted to. First, because I am a social worker with Children’s Protective Services; and also, having been a victim of Domestic Violence in the past.
The judge began asking questions of the eighteen people in the jury box. The judge also told the rest of us to pay attention because he will be asking us the same questions. Then, the lawyers also asked some questions. This went on for about an hour. Then the judge and the lawyers spoke quietly with each other. After the lawyers went back to their seats, the judge dismissed some of the people in the jury box, including the two Chinese men that sat with me in the jury lounge. More people were called to fill those seats. I escaped that call as well. The judge then spoke with each of the new potential jurors, and more people were dismissed. It was about 3:45 and court closes at 4:30. My thoughts were; ‘I am almost out of here’; and then my number was called to fill a seat.
I was number fifteen, not yet on the jury. Only 1 through 12 makes it to the jury; numbers 13 and 14 are the alternates.
The judge began to talk to me.
“State your ID number.”
“6603”
“Where do you live?”
“Altadena”
“What is your marital status?”
“Divorced”
“How many children do you have?”
“Three adult children and seven grandchildren”.
“What is your occupation?”
“Children’s social worker with the Department of Children and Family Services; currently assigned to the Child Abuse Hot Line”.
“How long have you worked there?”
“Twenty-eight years.”
I heard several people inhale deeply, and the judge leaned back and then forward. “Twenty-eight years?” he asked.
“Yes sir”.
“So you answer the phones?”
“Yes, sir”. “
So I suppose you also hear about Domestic Violence?”
“Yes sir, every day, but not only that; I was a victim for 10 years”.
The courtroom was already quiet but it became an eerie, creepy quiet.
“We will come back to that”; the judge said.
“Okay”, I responded.
The judge continued; “People call in to the hot line and you make an assessment and determine if your department accepts a case?”
“Yes, sir”
“And who calls the hot line? Children?”
“Sometimes children call, but not usually. Usually it is Law Enforcement, teachers, medical personnel, therapists and general members of the community.”
“So mostly mandated reporters?”
“Yes sir”
“So in twenty-eight years it’s safe to say, you’ve heard it all?”
“Yes sir, and then some.”
The judge leaned forward again and asked; “you were a victim of domestic violence for 10 years?”
“Yes sir, unreported.”
“Unreported”; he responded.
“Yes sir”.
“Let me ask you this. In your job, are you able to make your assessments fairly and without bias?”
“Absolutely.”
“How long ago was it that you were a victim?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I know I left in 1977”.
“So that is 30 something years ago. It must be far behind you with that much time?”
I thought for a moment and then said; ‘time doesn’t matter. It doesn’t rule my life, but has affected by life, but time does not really matter.”
Then the judge said; “but you are able to do your job fairly and without bias.”
“Yes, but I chose working at the hot line rather than working with the families face to face because I did not think I could work face to face without bias.”
The judge responded;
“Obviously you have done well for yourself. You got an education, raised your children, and have worked many years with DCFS. You got help for yourself, I assume?”
“Yes sir, for many years and for my children too.”
The judge nodded, and then asked me; “Do you think you can listen to the evidence presented in this court without bias?”
“Yes sir. I don’t know what is going to happen. I don’t know if something may get triggered and cause me not to be fair and unbiased. But if that happens I will tell you.”
“Well, we can’t ask for more than that”.
The judge was quiet for a minute and he looked like he was going to address the jury and then he turned to me again and leaned forward and said;
“I am curious, if this went unreported, how did you manage to get away from it?”
“I just knew that if he hit me one more time”; and then I stopped, my thought was; ‘oh shit, I can’t tell him, I can’t say it in court’; but then I found the words; “I just knew what I would do, so I packed up my kids and left”.
“How many children?” the judge asked.
“Three”; I responded.
The judge, still leaning forward, looked around the courtroom and then looked back at me, and said; “you have more experience in this mater than anyone in this courtroom.” Then he sat back in his chair.
I am not supposed to be experienced, jurors are not supposed to be experienced with the situation being tried; or so I thought.
The judge faced all of us and told us that the lawyers can remove people from the jury without giving a reason. He said for us not to take in personally. Each lawyer dismissed a person and I was asked to take jury seat number ‘five’. I thought for sure that either one of the lawyers would kick me off the jury but they did not. They decided to keep me. I have no idea why the lawyers wanted me and why the judge allowed it. My youngest son, Daryl, told me that when I told the judge that I would let him know if something gets triggered, that I just bought myself a front row seat. I was not trying to get kicked off the jury and I was not trying to stay. I was just being honest and trying to accept that ‘it is what it is’ and I have no control over what it is. But for the life of me I could not understand this.
One thought that I had was that the defense attorney must think I will be sympathetic to his client because she is a woman, even though she is the accused. My other thought was that the prosecuting attorney must think I will be sympathetic to the alleged victim because I had been a victim. But I was not going to be sympathetic to either side.
The next day I had lunch with my oldest son, David. I told him that I was picked for a jury for a domestic violence case. He said; “no way!” I told him that I agree and that I was terribly confused. David was very encouraging. He served on a jury before and explained a lot to me. He said that there must be some reason that makes it ok for me to serve on the jury and not to worry about it.
The actual trial lasted 2 days and we had one day of deliberations. During this time some jury members made friends and would go to lunch together. I would see many of them talking to each other. No one spoke to me. That was fine by me. I’m a loner anyway, most of the time. I didn’t initiate conversation with them either. But they were very respectful to me, opening doors and moving chairs for me. I thought this was odd but it was kind. I think I was the oldest person on the jury and I felt like a grandmother with the plague. That is until the last day.
I went to lunch with my youngest son. I told him that none of the jurors spoke to me but they would speak to each other. Daryl said; “don’t worry about it mom, but know that you are their topic of conversation”. “I don’t want to be their topic of conversation”. Then Daryl said; “think about it. You were telling this story in the courtroom, and it was like reading a book, and they were waiting for the next word to be read. You don’t understand what a story your life is.”
“Well they just got a glimpse, not even a full chapter.” Then Daryl said, “I know that and you know that but they don’t know that”.
On the second day of the trial, the trial ended at about 3:30. We, the jury, went to the jury room to begin deliberations. The room was quite small with a large round table with 12 chairs around it. There were two restrooms, one on either side of the main room. There was a small table with a coffee pot, coffee and cups. There was just enough room to walk around the table to take a seat. The bailiff gave us a packet with a copy of the charges and the instructions that the judge had already read to us. There was another packet with photos that were evidence, and a packet for writing down the verdict. There were two charges and we had to deliberate both of them.
As we were sitting down a woman asked if anyone wanted to be chairperson and then she quickly said that she would do it. We all agreed that she could since she wanted to do it. She seemed rushed and hurried. The time was about 3:45 and the court was closing at 4:30. There was no way we were going to reach a verdict in 45 minutes. The chair-person wanted to take a vote immediately. The night before, I was thinking about how to be a chair-person if I ended up in that role. My thought was the same, to take a vote at the beginning to find out where people stand. But in the handout of jury responsibilities it said not to do this, that we must talk about it first. Most everyone was a bit taken aback by the immediate request for a vote. Some people spoke up. Then the chair-person said that this is not a real vote, it is just to see where we all are on the matter. So we took an anonymous vote. We were completely split. 6 guilty, 5 not guilty, 1 undecided. This was a good place to begin.
Suddenly, most everyone was talking. There was a great deal of energy. The people that were talking were somewhat scattered in what they were saying. Since this was the first time that any of us were able to even speak about the case, some people needed to let it out. So it flowed and over flowed. The chair person and I disagreed at first and bantered a bit and then I began to feel somewhat like a referee, ‘slash’, educator. With what some of what was being said I could see that some and most of the people knew nothing of family dynamics. One gentleman said that none of this made since to him because he wouldn’t have behaved that way in this situation. I told him that it is not about him and what he would do. I also did not want to offend him, so I also said that it is not about me and what I would do. I told him that each person in the room would have done a completely different thing and that it was not about what any of us would do, it was about what these people did on this particular day. One gentleman looked right at me and said; ‘you’re a social worker, you hear this all time.” And then he went on asking why this and why that and why did the police do this and not that. I was glad that I could answer some of their questions and help calm them down. It was a lot of work and I was exhausted at the end of this first 45 minutes, and when I got home I needed another nap. I was taking naps each day when I got home. I never expected this to be so much work.
It was 4:30 and time to leave. We were instructed to be back at court in the morning to continue deliberations.
That evening when I got home I was thinking about the case and going over what I remember of the testimony. Then I realized that I most likely took a referral for this family. Some of the family member’s names were very unusual; and the officer’s name was unusual too, and I vaguely remembered taking a referral with those names. I could not be certain, because in my work you begin to think that you have heard everyone’s names and all of these stories can run together, but then again it is at least a 50-50 chance, and it felt more like 90%, that I took the referral on this particular family for this particular incident and I had to inform the judge. I was ambivalent about telling the judge, I wasn’t sure that it was important. I thought if I did not tell the judge and it was important then it may ruin the case and also reflect poorly on me and possibly DCFS, so I decided to tell him. I knew that he would ask me if this would create a bias for me and I knew the answer was no.
The next morning I arrived early at the court house. I went upstairs and took a seat in the hallway outside of the court room. Other jurors arrived and took seats as well. I was waiting for the bailiff because I needed to talk to him. When the bailiff came to see if we were all there I told him that I needed to speak with him in private. He took me to a private area and I told him my concern and he said he would inform the judge. The bailiff told me that the judge will most likely call me into the court room to talk to me. I went back to the hallway and took a seat with the rest of the jurors.
The woman who was our chair-person sat down next to me and began talking to me. She asked me about my job and she told me about hers. She said that she works at an upscale retirement home for women. I think her position there is much like a case manager. She has worked there several years. She told me that she would like to work more closely with families. She asked me if she could get my phone number after we finish at court. I told her that I should give it to her now because I needed to talk to the judge and I did not know if he would allow me to stay. So she took my name and phone number. We continued our conversation until the bailiff came and took us all to the deliberation room.
The judge called me to the court room. The bailiff told the other jurors not to deliberate while I was not there. I explained my concern to the judge. The judge asked me if I do any investigations in my course of work. I said that I did not. He also asked me if the investigating social worker reports their findings back to me. I told him that they do not. He asked me if anything that I think I may have learned in this case would cause me to be biased. I told him that it would not. He then asked me if I had discussed this with any of the jurors and I told him I had not. He thanked me for that and asked me not to talk to the other jurors about it and said that I could stay on the jury. I was really happy; happy that I decided to speak up and tell him, and happy that I could stay on the jury.
Our deliberations were much different than the day before. People were calmer and were able to take each piece of evidence and each argument one at a time. The Chair-person took control and was a great guide through the reading of the charges and breaking down the law piece by piece. Each of us sorted out our opinions from evidence and applied the law to the evidence and by 11:45 we had a verdict on the first count. The second count was easier and very clear and we were all unanimous on the second count from the onset. So we had our verdicts. It was noon and we called for the bailiff to inform him that we had a verdict.
The bailiff came to the deliberation room and told us that we were to take our lunch break and that we would meet back in the deliberation room and wait for the judge to call us into the court room.
Everyone went downstairs and was leaving for lunch. I went to the ladies room on the first floor only to find a do not enter sign at the door. So I took the elevator up to the second floor to use the ladies room there. When I walked in, the defendant was there washing her hands. She looked at me with a half-smile and slightly nodded. I did not smile or nod. I just noticed that she was there and I walked into the stall. When I left, she was gone. It was a strange meeting. I could see no reason for her to be on the second floor since our courtroom is on the third floor and there is a restroom there. I was on the second floor by chance, only due to the closure of the restroom on the first floor. I wondered if she went to the second floor to stay away from the jurors; and then I was there. I may be making too much of this chance meeting but I do not think so. She is young, and hopefully getting out of the abusive relationship she has been in for the last ten years. I am not so young, but I am free. She is what could have been my past, but I got out before anyone ended up arrested, or worse. Hopefully, my story, my partial story that I shared in the courtroom can help her find her future. I mentioned to my friend, Diane, and to my oldest granddaughter, Kiara, in regards to being on this jury; I have felt like I was standing on a platform at a train station and that I stepped onto the train and when I did I stepped into the twilight zone. It has been the strangest feeling, and I am taking the time to process it and understand it.
Every thing happens for a reason.
There is a mutual purpose for every person met on our life’s journey.
It is up to us to pay attention and figure it out if we can.
After the lunch break I went back to the third floor and waited outside of the courtroom. Other jurors were gathering there as well. Another juror approached me and told me that she admired me. I thanked her. She told me that she admires the work that I do and that I give back to the community every day and have done so for so many years. She also said that she admires what I have done with my life and for my children. She acknowledged that many and most women don’t get out of abusive relationships, and certainly don’t get as far as I have in life. Again, I thanked her. I asked her about herself and she told me where she works and that she and one of her sisters are the caretakers for her mother who had a stroke last year. I told her that what she is doing for her mother is remarkable, that not everyone would do that. She asked me about my children and if they live nearby. Just then, the woman who was our chair-person joined us. I told the first woman that my children do live nearby and I get to see them and my grandchildren regularly. She asked me how old my children are and I told her that my youngest son will be 40 in September, my older son is 43, and my daughter is 46. Both women looked at me with the look I always get when I say the ages of my children. She also asked me what work they do. I told both women that my daughter is a retired teacher; that she taught for 10 years but had to retire due to long term injuries from a near fatal auto accident in 1990. I told them that my oldest son is also a teacher and teaches 4th grade, and that my youngest son owns his own business cleaning swimming pools. I told them that they are all doing well and that my grandchildren all live in ‘no hit’ households and know nothing of any kind of abuse.
The one juror asked me about my children’s healing process when they were children and I told her. The chair-person asked me if I thought 30 was too old to have children. I said of course not. You are more mature at 30 and can handle it better. She said, “yes and there is usually more money.” “Yes, that too”, and then I said, “I had all of my children by the time I was 21, and I didn’t start college until after I left”. I felt this is what she wanted to know. “Were you married when you had your children? “ she asked. I just told her that I got married at 17. There was no reason to go into everything else. Besides, she has my phone number and if we end up friends, she will know the entire story.
I didn’t feel like I had the plague anymore. People were talking to me. I didn’t mind answering their questions. I am used to it. I did feel strange, because I felt special and that is uncomfortable for me. I don’t see myself as special or extraordinary. I am where I am due to determination and hard work, and those things are available to everyone if they accept them.
The bailiff came and escorted us back to the deliberation room. We were only there a few minutes, but while we were there a few of the men had questions for me so I answered their questions. One gentleman said that he would love to talk to me at length about what I do and my history. I was impressed; men don’t usually say that to me. It is usually the women. I just smiled and nodded.
One woman mentioned the defendant’s children and her concern for what may happen to the children. I told her that was out of our hands and that we had to follow the letter of the law and that it is up to the judge to be compassionate, not us. We found the defendant ‘not guilty’ of the harsher crime, and ‘guilty’ of the lesser crime. Even if she were guilty of the incident, there was not enough evidence to come to a guilty verdict beyond a reasonable doubt, with the evidence at hand. I did not walk into that deliberation room thinking that I would vote the way I did. But the law is clear once we read it, and applied it, and I feel absolutely certain that I and the other jurors followed the law and the verdict is correct.
The judge called for us to come to the courtroom. As we stood up one man reached out to shake my hand and he said that he wanted to tell me that it was a pleasure and an honor to meet me and he wanted me to know that in case he didn’t have a chance to tell me after court. Most of the other jurors followed with the same. I told them that it was a pleasure and an honor for me too, to meet them and to serve with them.
We went to the courtroom and the judge read the verdict. The judge dismissed us and told us that if anyone wanted to talk to the defendant we could wait in the hall. I thought about it but thought it best to leave.
As we left the courtroom, the defendant had tears in her eyes and said thank-you to each of us as we walked out.
This time I gave her a slight nod as I walked by.
As I left the courthouse, I stopped for a moment at the steps. An intense feeling washed over me. I turned back and looked again at the courthouse, and thought about the judge who allowed me to stay. Thank you, I whispered.
On my way home from court, I ran some errands, and I sent Kiara a text telling her that jury duty was over. Later I picked her up from Pasadena City College where she attends. Kiara is 17 years old and in her second semester of college. As soon as she got in to the car she asked; “can you talk about the case now?” “Yes, I can”; and so I told her about it.
She was quiet for some time and then she spoke. “This case, and your being on this jury is an acknowledgement that your experience is important in helping people, and an affirmation for everything our family has gone through.”
“Ya know, Kiara, I have the strangest feeling. When I left the court house I felt great, exhilarated and washed clean. I don’t understand why I feel washed clean. It is the feeling I was hoping to get, but did not get, when I got baptized when I was 15 years old. It feels beyond wonderful.”
Kiara responded; ”it sounds like you need to call Sharon.”
“I already did. I called her the day I was picked for the jury and told her that I was going to keep a journal of it and then come in for a session when it was over.
“Good idea Gramma.”
******
I called Sharon and left her a voice mail to let her know that I was dropping off a copy of my journal entry. I asked her to read it and call me so that I could make an appointment to come in. A few days later Sharon called me and told me that her earliest open appointment was in two weeks, so I took it.
“I really want to talk with you about this, Debbie. This is really exciting!"
Sharon’s voice was exuberant. I could hear the smile in her voice.
"So I will see you in 2 weeks."
"Yes, I will be there".
The next day I was talking with Daryl on the phone and told him that I was going in to see Sharon.
"You still see her?", he asked.
"Yes, I see her about three or four times a year".
"Why don't you just go have coffee with her or something?"
"I can't, if I do that, then our relationship would change, and I need her to remain my therapist. Can you imagine trying to break in another one. They would want me to start all over and that is just a waste of time."
"Do you really think you still need therapy?"
"No, but if something does happen I may actually need therapy and she is there. Usually I just check in and let her know how everyone is doing. We do a little work, but it is usually just to say hi or to visit for birthdays and Christmas. But now, I really need her for clarification on what is going on with me. I am so excited about this and I need her to help me to understand it."
Diana, my daughter, also called me while I was waiting to see Sharon. I don't often hear from Diana and I don't call her very often either. It isn't that we don't want to talk to each other, it is just her health or lack of it that prevents us from seeing each other or speaking to each other very often. I have learned not to take this personally. I used to, but I know that if she is having a good day, she will call me; and when I leave her voice mails I know she will return the call when she is feeling well enough. I told Diana that I had been on a jury. She was excited. And then I told her it was a domestic violence case. She chuckled and almost screamed into the phone; "you lied to the judge!".
"I did not".
"You did, you had to lie, or you bribed him."
"I did not. I told him the truth and he kept me."
"The lawyers kept you too?"
"Yes."
"They must have really wanted to fry the guy".
"It was a woman."
"Really?"
"Yes".
I told Diana about what happened at court and the feelings I was having. She asked me to send her a copy of my journal entry. So I did. She asked me if I were
going to see Sharon, and I told her "of course". It's funny, my entire family including my brother and nephew had the same reaction about my serving on this jury.
Finally, Thursday evening, April 19, I had my appointment with Sharon. Sharon was standing at the door waiting for me. She was wearing a red hat. She loves hats and they look fantastic on her. Her smile engulfed her entire being. She was radiant. We went inside and sat in our usual places. She just sat there smiling, waiting for me to begin.
"I am so happy!"
"You look happy", she said.
"You read it, right?"
"Of course I read it; her smile grew even bigger; this is very exciting!"
"I can't believe the judge let me stay on this jury".
"At first, I was surprised too. But as I read it I saw why he allowed you to stay."
"I still don't see it".
"He asked you a lot of questions and he saw your integrity. He recognized your strength and honesty, and he saw you. He saw that you would not be influenced by anyone or anything. He saw in you what I see in you and what other people see in you and what I have been hoping all of these years that you will see in yourself."
"I see it".
"I think you see it now, but you have always said that you see it, but you haven't. You always push back and say to yourself, 'but you don't really know me, if you really knew me you wouldn't think so highly of me; isn't that right?"
"Yes, it is. One of the things I wrote about is how the jurors made me feel special and that I have a difficult time feeling that, and that I don't think that I am special at all. But when I read it over a few times I realized that I am special, because even though everyone has access to do the work if they want to, most people won't do it, and I did, and that is what makes me special."
Sharon responded; "They are afraid to do the work. I see so many people who are too afraid. They don't have the courage that you have".
" I had to muster the courage. I didn't have a choice. I had those kids and I could not leave them in this world without a mother. They were my only reason to take another breath, so I didn't have much of a choice. I had to do the work. It was for them. I worked hard in therapy for them.”
Sharon was thoughtful and said; "I remember". Then she asked me; ‘when did it change and become for you?”
“I’m not sure, maybe somewhere in the middle. My going to school, and everything, was for them. I am not sure when I became important enough for it to be for me.
(this is important to me, I need to sit with this for a while and find when and why it became for me)
"Looking back, I can now see how absolutely worthless I felt because of those people, and how so unfair that was to me. At that time I could not see the depth of worthlessness that engulfed me, but I can see it now and my heart breaks for who I used to be. And now I have this feeling of being washed clean. Why do I have this feeling?"
"Let's look at that. What do you think it’s about?”
“I don’t know. That is why am I here. I need you to help me. At first I thought it was just excitement and neurotransmitters, and I thought it would pass in a while, but it didn’t, it stayed with me for several days. Then I noticed that it was gone and I thought, ’oh, it was just fleeting, and it was nice while it lasted‘. But then it immediately came back and it has stayed with me.”
“Let me ask you this. When the feeling went away, how long was it gone and what was going on in your life at that time?”
“It only went away for about a day, and I was just busy with life and things I had to do.”
Sharon nodded, and said; “When it slips away like that, it is just in the background. It is still there, and it will always be there. This is really important for you to remember. That it will always be there even when you don’t feel it in any given moment, it is still there.”
I nodded and said “ok, but what is it? Why do I have this feeling of being washed clean?”
Sharon leaned forward again, and I could see the intensity in her expression. She said, “you have finally forgiven yourself. After all this time, you have forgiven yourself. This is what I have always hoped for, for you.”
“That’s why I feel so wonderful and happy?”
“Yes”.
“I never thought I would get here. I wanted to get here but I thought it was not for me and that was okay with me. Life has been so good and I have been happy these last few years and my family is doing so well. I don’t worry about my children anymore. They have all arrived. They are all standing on their own feet, and I am able to let go of them and relax; and my grandchildren are treated so well. I thought that if this is as a good as it gets, then I will take it because it is really good. I never expected this feeling. It was so unexpected. It seemed to have come out of no where. It wasn’t there and then there it was, and I feel great.”
“Can you see this judge and your serving on this jury as a metaphor for your life?
“What do you mean?”
“The judge saw you. He saw your innocence. He found you worthy to sit on this jury. Not just any jury, but this jury, and it had to be this jury. This judge found you not guilty; and then you were on this jury.”
I didn’t think Sharon’s smile could get any bigger, but it did and she continued;
“ You sat on your own jury and judged yourself and found yourself not guilty.”
“Oh my God, that’s what I did. That’s why this entire thing has been so surreal, it feels divine. It’s like my spirit guide was sitting around and said ‘it’s time’, so he painted this picture and put me in it.”
“Yes, it’s perfect. You had to be on this jury. No one could have orchestrated this. No one could even write it as a script.”
“This judge, I really liked him. He is so smart”.
Sharon chuckled and said; ‘yes he is’.
“He was also kind; I could tell that he was kind and fair and compassionate, and that he really deserved to be a person that judges people. I trusted him. And he judged me, and that freed me to find myself not guilty.”
“Yes!”; Sharon exclaimed.
“Now I feel ‘unzipped’, like there is this big zipper down the front of me and it has been unzipped and I have been opened up. I feel like I am standing there, completely opened up with my arms spread out to either side of me; completely open.”
“That’s because you now trust the world and yourself in it. You are standing in the most powerful position anyone can stand in; arms open out to the sides. That is the ultimate position of strength, and power, and trust. Having no fear and nothing can harm you. You will also be able to recognize when a person is good or not. You will see. When you are that open, you can see the truth in another person.”
Sharon had tears in her eyes, she was crying.
“Are you ok?,” I asked.
“Yes, I just had this vision of when you were a little girl and you were dancing and twirling with your father. I see the trust and innocence that you had then. You are that person again, and it is moving.”
“ I let myself go back there, to my father. I was so small, and he was so tall and I felt so safe with him. I understood what Sharon was saying .”
“Sharon, I heard everything you said but some of it is difficult to hold on to and I want to hold on to it, so can you repeat a few things so that I will not forget them?”
“Of course.”
So Sharon and I went over a few things to make sure I could hold on to them.
Sharon asked; ‘what else can you do to make sure you remember these things?”
“I will write it and read it over a few times”.
“That’s good. What about a drawing? Isn’t it time you did some drawings?”
“Yes, it has been a while hasn’t it? And I have a lot of images in my mind.”
“ I am sure you do.”
“Ok, I will do some drawings and bring them in.”
“ I can’t wait to see them.”
“ Before we end, I was thinking of sending the judge a copy of my journal entry. Do you think that would be ok?”
Sharon beamed, “yes, I think that is a fabulous idea. I think he would really appreciate it.”
“Thank you.”
“You are welcome, and it is time for me to go home.”
We both smiled and hugged, and we both went home.
*****
Well, that makes up for not writing the blog for almost a year. As I said I have madea commitment to write every Friday. Wish me luck, I may need it. I will do my best.
TTFN, again ta ta for now for those of you who have not read Winnie The Pooh
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