Strange Ducks #6 - Jury Duty

Law and Order and the Nagging Persistence of Memory

I’ll admit it. I love jury duty. Not only does it allow me an opportunity to get in some fun courtroom sketching¹ (when I’m not being scowled at by the judge), but one can admire the US legal system up close while being neither a plaintiff nor defendant. Best of all though is that I can sit there and make silent mental comparisons to episodes of “Law and Order.”

I got called in to attend jury duty this past Monday and here’s what happened, accompanied by my over finished courtroom sketch.

The defendant and his lawyer

The potential jurors filed into the small courtroom in the numerical order assigned to them by the bailiff. We all held a laminated 8.5” x 5.5” card that stated our number. I was “Juror Number 4,” which meant along with jurors 1 through 12, we all got to sit in the lucky jury box. The rest of the jurors were crammed into the gallery rows behind prosecution and defense. Terrible seats for a good view. I cherished my “Box Seating” where I could really up close study the various participants. Cha-Chung!

Once everyone was seated, the court clerk told us to stand back up as the judge entered the court and sat at his bench. He told us to remain standing, raise our right hand and be sworn into service.

After fussing in his seat and sorting a few papers, the honorable Judge Robert Lewis, proceeded to recite what our task as jurors was and what today’s legal matter was about.

I was hoping it was something juicy.

“…The case before you today is the State of Washington Vs. Stephen Sauro, who has been charged with driving under the influence of alcohol and drugs and committing vehicular assault.”

Jackpot!

The last time I got jury duty it was on a trial where some knucklehead jumped into the backseat of a woman’s car. He propositioned her while she was parked in the Vancouver Mall parking lot. The woman smartly jumped out of the car with her keys and got the mall cops to bust him ASAP. To further prove how dumb that guy was, he decided to forgo a lawyer and represent himself. He obviously didn’t know the old saying about self-representation and fools for clients.

I got bounced from that jury for stating that I could be impartial…as long as some episode of SVU didn’t pop into my head.

Anyhow back to this case…

Once the charges were read, the judge then asked us a series of questions, and if any of these questions pertained to us, we were to raise our little number cards.

“Do you have any knowledge of the case?”

“Do any of you work in the court or legal system?”

“Do any of you work in the penal system?”

“Do you have any relatives who work in these capacities?”

“Are any of you, or anyone close to you involved in court cases right now?”

“Have any of you been convicted of a similar offense?”

“Have you met or do you recognize the prosecutor, the defendant or his lawyer?”

I looked at the defendant. He seemed about 60ish with the kind of sickly, yellow green skin that speaks to a liver of dubious function. Combine that with a face that looked overly effected by gravity, he practically looked as if he was drawn by Gahan Wilson.

In as much as this guy was long and drawn, his lawyer reminded me of a hedge hog who was also a part-time mall Santa. A head of spike hair topping a cherubic face with a bulbous nose. But there was something else about him…

When the judge asked the last question I almost put my card up.

…the Defense Attorney looked really, really familiar. I was positive I had chatted with him in the past but couldn’t quite put my finger on where or when. It nagged at me. I never forget a face. Forget names and places? All the time. But faces? Never.

What would Benson or Stabler do in this situation?

I kept quiet.

Surprisingly, after the judge’s questions, only 3 jurors out of the 44 were excused from service.

But then the prosecuting Assistant DA was allowed his half hour to question jurors.

He began with a simple question.

“Do you consider yourself a good juror? Why?”

Most folks gave reasonable, well-thought-out answers that cited morals, empathy and judgement.

However when it came to me, I said, “Well….um…I’ve traveled around the world a few times and I’m pretty well read!”

Internally I chided myself for that. “Way to go, genius. Torquemada and Julius Caesar were also well read and traveled. That didn’t make them great jurors.”

I blamed the past weekend’s Daylight Savings time change for my dullard response. I also blamed my dog, Zeke, who decided the night before court to jump in bed and play “Kick Daddy every half hour until he wakes up.”

The prosecutor then moved on to his next question.

“Can you deliver a verdict based on a strict adherence to what a law is? For example, say the state of Washington created a law in where it was illegal to skip down the street on Mondays, and since the defendant was caught on camera and by visual witnesses that he was skipping down the street on a Monday, would you decide that he was guilty of violating the law?”

He then spent the spent the next 10 minutes kibitzing with jurors over the adherence to the law; if the law was just or just silly; and whether you had any moral qualms about convicting someone under the law.

I don’t recall if Barba or Carisi ever used the “Skipping” analogy to define culpability to a jury but I’d bet Executive DA Jack McCoy did.

Next, we were then asked to gauge the difference between “a reasonable doubt of guilt” and “an absolute certainty of guilt.”

Most of the jurors were able to define the murky difference.

When the prosecutor finally got around to me, I said, in my best imitation of Richard Belzer a.k.a. Detective Munch, “It takes a preponderance of the evidence to ascertain the level of guilt.”

To which the prosecutor asked if I have ever been certain of anything?

I replied “I’m only certain about things that pertain to my wife.” (Cha-Chung! - A Law and Order rimshot!)

Big laughs from the crowd and even bigger scowls from the Judge.

Someone’s cell phone went off and the judge admonished us all to turn off our phones, or has he put it while holding up his gavel, “I have this handy device which will turn off your phone!”

The prosecutor ending his questioning on that note and next it was time for the defense lawyer to ask his questions.

Where had I chatted with this guy? The dog park? The Saturday Farmer’s Market? A local pub? Maybe that was it. My clouded memories could be due to a few stout beers.

While the lawyer was dressed in a dark suit with a black dress shirt divided by a colorful floral tie, in my mind I pictured him wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a baseball cap. Hmm. Maybe it was during the summer that we talked?

This near recognition was driving me nuts.

Then it happened. That moment when two people exchange glances and there’s a mutual look of recognition. The defense attorney had that when he met eyes with me. After the slightest pause he then asked his first question.

“How many of you bike as a hobby?”

(I thought to myself, “Oh now he’s just screwing with me. He must know damn well I love cycling.”)

Two other jurors and myself raised their number card. He made note of that.

He moved on to asking what we thought about the difference between “innocence” and “a reasonable doubt of guilt.” He also wanted to know how we felt if there wasn’t enough evidence to reach beyond a reasonable doubt. Would the defendant be considered innocent?

He asked a few others their opinions before turning to me.

I gave some convoluted answer that even I couldn’t understand. All those years of faithfully watching Law and Order failed me. I accepted my imbecility and tried to recover by concluding, “There are tons of examples in corporate cases where guilt was obvious but the evidence wasn’t strong enough to hold the case together.’’

Did that strengthen MY case? Was juror number 4 still in the running for the trail? Cha-cha-…chung?

All I got from the lawyer was his cherubic smile then watching him make a mark on his notes.

He continued with this question to a few other jurors, most who admirably responded far better than my time lagged, dog kicked, exhausted self.

If Fin Tutuola was in the gallery he’d be heckling me with one of his smart-ass one liners that he saves for busted drug dealers.

“You must-a played hooky the day God was handing out brains.”

Yep. Sounds about right. I zoned out a bit as the defense lawyer worked the room.

He turned back to those of us who rode bikes.

He asked the fellow next to me about his bike riding. The man responded that he rode mostly mountain bikes on trails and didn’t see how this had anything to do with the case.

Then the lawyer asked me to elaborate on my bike riding.

By that time, I had pretty much gathered that the defendant was on trial for hitting a cyclist, so in perfect knee-jerking form, I opened up my trap and let it flow.

“When the weather’s nice I ride about 35 miles per week on the roads. Um… if the defendant is on trail because he hit a cyclist, I gotta tell ya, that’s probably gonna bias me against him. I can’t tell how many close calls I’ve had riding around this town since all the drivers here are maniacs and drive like nuts.”

“Go on” the lawyer said.

“I mean…uh… I’d like to be fair and give him the benefit of the doubt, but in the back of my mind…” My Italian genes kicked in here and I started talking with my hands, wildly waving them around my head. “…there will always be those times of nearly getting killed by drivers who were driving badly. I mean they’re all lunatics on the road in this town!”

The defense lawyer then turned to the judge and requested I be excused from jury duty. The prosecutor happily agreed.

My one of twelve angry men hopes were dashed against the rocks again!
Although in all honesty, it’s probably for the better. In no sensible world should a smart-aleck cartoonist decide anyone’s fate.

As I was booted from the court I was half tempted to turn to the defense lawyer and say, “I’m a fair guy! I’m impartial! Next time I see you I’ll prove it! I’ll buy you a beer!”

The shock of the ejection apparently jogged my memory.

I did chat with him last summer at the Tap Union Pub on 13th street.

We talked about our dogs.

Cha-Chung!

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In case you want to know more about the court case, here’s a follow up.

I looked up the newspaper reports on the crime and followed the court transcripts over the week.

If you read the news report and study the photo that was released by the Sheriff’s office, you’ll see that the defendant, Stephen Sauro was driving (high as we learned in court) along on the right side of the road and obviously paying zero attention to the cyclist who was riding on the left side of the road and traveling in the same direction as Sauro. When Sauro made a left turn he didn’t bother to check for the cyclist who was traveling straight and so slammed into the guy.

Granted, the cyclist was riding on the wrong side of the road against traffic, but in this region on the country roads, one can never feel safe riding with your back to oncoming traffic. Truck drivers here are huge hazards since they hog up the roads and pay zero attention to cyclists. That’s why the victim was riding against traffic on the left side of the road, so he could see who was coming at him. I’m sure he thought that he was riding safely, at least until Mr. Sauro came along.

The accident happened and Sauro was arrested on July 4, 2023. He paid a $150,000 bail to remain free until his case could come to trial. After numerous motions and delays his trial finally started on 3/11/24.

On Wednesday (3/13/24), the Jury found Stephen Sauro guilty of vehicular assault which can carry a $20,000 fine and a maximum 10 year jail sentence.

Sentencing takes place April 9th.

In case you were wondering if Sauro was, as his lawyer contended, “a victim of circumstances,” it turned out, after a quick Washington state court case search, that this wasn’t the first time Mr. Sauro has run afoul of the criminal justice system. His past actions may have set him up for his unfortunate future.

Ah-ha! Just like in Law and Order, there’s always a backstory.

Cha-Chung indeed!

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1. I really should make an effort to get courtroom sketching gigs. I find it immensely educational.