Day 181
I'm exhausted.
I'd love to start rattling off random details of this case--even obscured details--for your amusement, but the fact of the matter is, we returned a guilty verdict, and there's absolutely nothing entertaining about that at all.
The details of our deliberation time will remain, for now, a secret. Suffice it to say, we were not all in agreement at the start, but by the end, we'd reached a consensus. Of the six men and six women on the jury, every one of us thought and spoke passionately about the case. Each and every juror, whether they began deliberations thinking guilt or innocence for the defendant, was given ample time and help to come to the consensus we ultimately reached.
Yet despite the consensus, despite the guilty verdict, something beautiful happened after we left the courtroom. Between the time the judge dismissed us and the time we all left each other's company, just minutes after turning in the guilty verdict, at least four jurors openly admitted they felt sad for the defendant. They chose to find him guilty by manner of due process, but they chose to feel sympathy anyway by manner of soul.
Despite all the evidence, and even despite all the guilt that was found, the jury I had the honor of serving on proved to me, beyond a reasonable doubt, that they felt bad for the person they found guilty. Two jurors even embraced, and another juror said she had to hold back tears. Finding guilt, and knowing a person's life is in your hands like this, is a supreme responsibility, and is in no way taken lightly, and certainly not entertaining.
And so, I'm exhausted. I'm exhausted, and I'm drained. This was not an easy case to witness. It involved many people, and many broken lives, some broken before, some broken afterward. Though I'm free from jury duty responsibilities now, I don't think I'll be free from this case for a long, long time. The defendant, the victim, the jurors, the judge and her deputies--hell, even the lawyers--will be in my mind probably forever. The case, for me at least, is now closed, but the psychological ramifications will remain open, in my mind, indefinitely.
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