A Sul Ross State economics professor who criticized his students’ academic competence in an obscure magazine article was surprised to learn that his students (and the local townspeople) actually read the article.

I have returned to the office from jury duty, and I am happy to report that I did not traumatize any young attorneys during voir dire. Mike Mayes, Judge of the 410th District Court of Montgomery County, did a great job greeting the jurors and explaining the importance of citizen juries in our civil justice system. Mike is running for re-election in the Republican Primary, and is well-deserving of any Montgomery County citizen’s vote.

Blogging will be light at least early tomorrow as I have been called for jury duty in the morning. I look forward to jury duty because it allows me to experience what jurors endure in connection with voir dire and measure how they react to it. It is a valuable learning experience.
The last time I was on jury duty several years ago, the panel was about 50 people for a DWI case. Both the prosecutor and the defense attorney were male, quite young, and neither could have been more than a few years out of law school. The prosecutor’s voir dire was boring and dreadful, and included him asking the patronizing question to a housewife (she had three children) on the panel: “Do you have a job?” Ouch!
At any rate, after the prosecutor finished, the young defense attorney introduced himself and his client, and then launched into the opening of his voir dire:

“The State has accused my client of being a drunk driver. That’s a very serious charge, my client denies it, and we will prove that it is a false charge. However, for some people, it is simply impossible to keep an open mind about a person who has consumed an alcoholic beverage and then driven a car. Out of fairness to my client, to serve on this jury, you need to have an open mind and not already determined that my client is guilty simply because he had a drink before driving his car.”
“So,” the young defense attorney asked the panel. “Do any of you already have a belief as to my client’s guilt or innocence?”

Looking around and seeing no one else responding, I raised my hand.

“Yes,” noted the defense attorney. “Juror number 32. Mr. Kirkendall. Do you have a belief as to my client’s guilt or innocence?”
“Yes I do,” I responded.
“What is it,” asked the defense attorney.
“Your client is innocent,” I observed. “Until proven guilty.”

I don’t know whether it was because the other jurors expected me to say that I could not have an open mind on a DWI case, the prosecutor’s dreadfully boring voir dire, the formality of the courtroom, or a combination of those factors. However, the entire jury panel, the judge, the lawyers, the bailiffs, and the defendant all cracked up laughing over my response. “Thank you, Mr. Kirkendall,” said the judge from the bench, still chuckling. “We all needed that.”
To his credit, the young defense attorney recovered nicely, complimented me for my correct answer to his question, and finished his voir dire quickly. Although the prosecutor laughed at my response to the question, he immediately used one of his peremptory challenges to strike me from the panel.
I promise to behave myself tomorrow. ;^)