Chapter 1 – Why so many questions?

“Juror number 9, on count 1 of the charge of murder in the 2^nd degree was your verdict guilty?”

“Yes, your honor”

“Was that the verdict of the jury as a whole?”

“Yes”

“Juror number 9, on count 2 of the charge of assault in the first degree was your verdict guilty?”

“Yes, your honor”

“Was that the verdict of the jury as a whole?”

“Yes”

 

That is how the trial ended on June 27, 2024, around 1 p.m., in the matter of the State of Washington v. Jeffrey Nelson, a police officer from the City of Auburn, WA.

It all actually started for me back on January 11 when I received a familiar postcard in the mail stating that I had been summoned for jury service and was to report on February 13. "Oh darn," I thought, "I will be traveling overseas on February 13." I am a bit of a weird dude; I generally LOVE doing jury duty. I am fascinated by the law and am happy to serve. That being said, every experience I’ve had has been that you end up on a trial that takes no more than a week, and then you can quickly return to normal life.

"Well, shoot!" February 13 wasn’t going to work, so I went ahead and rescheduled my service date for March 18. That turned out to be a fateful decision.

Unbeknownst to me, a case had been working its way through the judicial process for almost five years, and that case was set to begin on that very March 18 date. It used to be that you had your summons date and you were to show up at the courthouse that day to see if they called your number for a trial; that has all changed since COVID. Now they tell you to stay at home and await potential instructions from a judge or bailiff. If you don’t hear from a judge or bailiff, your services are not needed, and you can consider yourself released from the summons.

On Friday, March 15, I was working away at my desk and thinking, “Well, I guess I’m not going to be going in for a case because surely I would have heard from a judge by now if I needed to be in court on Monday.” I was absolutely convinced that this would be one of those situations where there was not a case starting on the day I was summoned and that I would go on with my life uninterrupted.

The weekend went by with no communication from the court, and I started my Monday, March 18, just like most other days. I woke up at 5 a.m. and jumped on my computer to start working with my accounts based in London. I joined a Zoom call or two, and as the morning progressed, I thought my jury service was done. Suddenly, I received an email from the bailiff for the Honorable Nicole Gaines Phelps at 9:44 a.m. "Oh, wow," I thought. I could not believe that I just got that email, as I had not been actually called in to report in person. I was amazed that something was still happening.

The email from the bailiff stated that I was to participate in an initial process of filling out a questionnaire. I had until Tuesday, March 19, at noon to complete the questionnaire, which included a litany of demographic information such as age, city, level of education, race, occupation, etc. The introduction of the form made it clear that from this point forward, I was not to discuss anything about the case. That was easy; I didn’t really know anything about the case. I was not to do any research concerning information in the questionnaire. Again, easy—there was nothing revealing about the actual case in the questionnaire. I got started on filling out the form almost immediately. The form went on to ask some questions about how I consumed news and what I thought about issues like homelessness and the police. I am a fairly middle-of-the-road type of guy, so I dutifully answered all the questions with my very honest, and I would say, balanced opinions. I went carefully through the form, question by question. I tried to give each answer very careful consideration. I felt a duty to provide a thorough and thoughtful answer that truly reflected how I felt about the issues being asked about. I remember thinking, "This must be a pretty big case because in all the times I have been called to jury duty, I had never seen such a lengthy list of questions that I needed to answer." In all the other times I had been called in, they just brought the potential jurors into the courtroom and asked these types of questions then and there. I thought to myself, a questionnaire like this does not just come out willy-nilly; both sides of whatever case this is must have fought over these questions, maybe for months.

A week went by, and I heard nothing back from the court following my submission. Then, on Monday, March 25, in the middle of a long product training Zoom call with the rest of my work team, I received a new email from the court. That email read as follows:

Dear Potential Juror:

The Court and Counsel have reviewed your answers to the questionnaire.   YOU REMAIN a potential juror for an upcoming trial.  The Court will send additional instructions via email on April 15, 2024.  

I got a pit in my stomach. I thought, "What am I in for?"

April 15th happened to be smack dab in the middle of the biggest trade show of the year for my company, and I would be in Las Vegas on April 15th. I remember thinking, "What kind of instructions am I going to get on April 15th? Am I going to need to come to the courthouse that day? Are they going to instruct me to be somewhere in person at any time that week? Am I going to be required to change my flights and jump on a plane to get back quickly from Vegas?"

I thought about sending a question to the bailiff, but I ultimately figured that she was probably inundated with questions from people. I decided to focus on the tasks I needed to complete and to handle things as they came. In other words, I decided I just needed to chill out and take things as they came.

So, on April 15th, I was in Las Vegas conducting meeting after meeting at our trade show booth. I finally had a little break around lunchtime. I went off to grab a quick bite, and as I sat in the food court area, resting my feet, I checked my personal email. There it was—the next communication from the court. I thought, "Okay, what is it going to tell me to do next?" I was relieved to read that I didn’t need to race off to the airport or anything, but it was ANOTHER questionnaire! For this particular questionnaire, the judge wanted it returned by the following day at noon. I realized I had a full schedule for the next couple of days, so I needed to fill it out on my phone right there, since I had a few minutes of downtime. I don’t like typing out long answers on my little iPhone, but I didn’t really have a choice.

Once again, the introduction of the questionnaire stated that I was not to discuss the case. Once again, I didn’t know what the case was about, other than it involved a lot of questions about policing and homelessness. The introduction also stated that I was not supposed to talk about the questions with anyone and that I was not to conduct any research about anything in the questionnaire. With all these warnings and the presence of, now, a second questionnaire, I was getting the sense that this case must be a really big deal. This form delved into even more granular details about my occupation and that of my family members. It asked about military service, our experiences with the law, our feelings about the justice system, political views, and whether anyone close to us struggled with mental illness or drug addiction. It asked if I supported any pro-police organizations like Blue Lives Matter or if I wanted to defund the police. More than anything, it was a lot of questions about my views on law enforcement. It was an extensive questionnaire and a lot to fill out on the phone. I sat in the food court of the Las Vegas Convention Center and thumbed away at my phone for about half an hour. I remember thinking, I wish I were doing this on a computer because I don’t think I’m giving as complete answers as I would if I could type them out. I felt a bit guilty that my answers might not be as thorough as they could be, and I was sure there were probably typos scattered through my responses. Oh well, I completed the 55 questions and hit the submit button. I wondered when I would hear from the court next.

It was only a few days later that I received an email from the bailiff thanking me for completing the questionnaires and informing me that I had been selected to participate in the next phase of the jury selection process. The email stated that I was to report to the courthouse the following Monday at 8:15 a.m. Well, there it was. Since the whole process of filling out multiple questionnaires was so different from anything else I had previously experienced with jury duty, I thought, “Okay, I’m probably going to end up on this jury panel.” I figured that, probably because of COVID, those questionnaires had replaced the traditional voir dire process where we would have come into court and had the attorneys ask questions in person.

I left the house the morning of April 22nd thinking I would show up at the courthouse, there would be a few other people there, things would narrow down to twelve, and the trial would get going that day. Boy, was I wrong.