The first three times they called me for jury duty I got out of it. Not that jury duty wouldn’t be interesting. Actually, I think I would enjoy the process and find it fascinating. My reason for excusing myself had to do with time considerations alone.
My fourth call to jury duty arrived in June and I figured I would try it this time. True, they might not take me, being that I’m both a minister and radio talk show host with an opinion about everything. Undoubtedly I would never survive the interview process but why not be more willing and flexible? I prayed, “God, I will go down to the court and put this matter in your hands. If it’s your will that I do jury duty, have them select me.”
I told all my friends that I was at peace with the whole thing. “This is one of those rare times, when I think I will be happy either way. If I don’t have to do jury duty, fine, because it would have been time consuming. On the other hand, if they pick me, I might consider it a stimulating experience.”
First, I sat in the room with about one-hundred other people waiting for the orientation to begin. Eventually we were treated to a video about civic responsibility, laced with interviews by Americans who were proud to have done their patriotic duty. Not only that, but some of them had made lifetime friends by serving on a jury. They were so excited, one would have thought they’d come up with a cure for cancer.
After the video, we got an hour break for breakfast. I had an omelette from the cafeteria. Not bad. Breakfast would be one of the perks should I be called to serve.
When we returned to the jury lounge, they eventually called the names of the first panel to be interviewed. I was not on the list. Several hours went by, interrupted by an additional 15 minute break in which I bought myself and ice cream sandwich. Then they called the second panel. I was not on the list this time either. I tried reading some magazines. I tried watching one of the TV’s that were on. But there was no denying a fast growing emotional truth: Bored out of my gourd!
Around noon, they read off another list of names. This time, I was on it. Our instructions? We were to take a ninety minute lunch break and return at 1:30 to be interviewed. I had lunch at Wendy’s, returned home for a while, and then drove back to the courthouse. Afternoon parking was more difficult. There was nothing open in their garage so I parked on the street.
We waited another thirty minutes and they explained that the trial was delayed. It finally occurred to me that even if I was picked for jury duty, I would be going through this every day, waiting around for the judge to roll in when he darn well felt like it or experiencing some other obstacle to punctuality.
“God, I change my mind. I thought I could be happy either way but now I just want out. Please do not put me on a jury.”
At 2:30, the intercom came on again. It was explained that one of the witnesses never showed up. They were going to scrap today’s trial and begin again tomorrow with an all new jury. We were excused and would not be obligated to jury duty for another year, if at all. I kid you not: The announcement which excused us came within five minutes of my prayer.
Praise be to God in the heaven!
For He hears the prayer of his desperate servant and answers from on high!
So ends Bob’s adventures with jury duty. I still say it was a great omelette. Not a bad ice cream sandwich either. As for Wendy’s, I can still go there any time I want.
Man oh man, there’s one whole day of my life I’ll never have back again.
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