Somewhere out there last week, a nervous juror was searching Google.
At least he might have been. I'm new at blogging, so I still check my stats with fascination. One day last week, someone pulled up the Voir Dire category of this blog by asking Google "what happens if you lie about voir dire." I didn't think much of it. Then a few hours later, the search "voir dire not realizing you know someone" pulled up the Watching The Jury category here. Hmmm.
It could have been anything, of course, but I'm picturing this scene. The juror (let's call him a man, or I'll be he-or-she-ing you to death) showed up at voir dire. The judge read a list of names and asked if anyone on the panel knew anyone on the list. Nothing rang a bell, so he didn't raise his hand.
Later, one of the lawyers called a witness -- and omigod, he recognized her. Her name clicked instantly; he should have remembered it when he heard the voir dire list. He'd taken some kind of oath when they started voir dire, right? It definitely had something in it about telling the truth. What should he do? What would they do to him?
I doubt he'll find me again, but just in case:
Dear Nervous Juror,
First, I'm sorry you didn't find anything here to help you. It doesn't look like you got much guidance from the rest of your results, either. I hope you ran the search in news as well as in web posts; if you did, you might have found this story, and learned that a juror had a similar experience just recently in Wisconsin's much-followed Steven Avery trial.
In the Avery trial, a police officer who was an important witness took the stand. Only when the juror saw the officer did she realize that she had seen him testify when she was on another jury seven years ago. It all worked out fine, at least for her. She told the bailiff right away, the bailiff told the judge, the judge questioned her and ruled she could still be impartial. (There was a mistrial motion, and it was denied.)
I hope it worked out for you too.
Sincerely,
Anne Reed
ps -- Whatever you do, don't lie to the judge. They might not punish you for it, but they might, and either way it makes the lawyers' lives very complicated. You might have read my post on U.S. v. Vartanian, decided by the Ninth Circuit last Wednesday; in that one, the juror who lied only had to go home. But that same Wednesday in Fort Worth, a juror told the judge he didn't know the defendant when in fact they were basketball buddies -- and he went to jail for three days.
