Where’s the damn erase button?

I started this week as a juror on what seemed a fairly mundane case.

The prosecution’s case was very carefully put together. He knew his business. The defense had nothing. There was no reasonable doubt. There was no doubt at all. The verdict was inevitable, and even with our diverse jury, quick and unanimous.

And then the other shoe dropped.

The case was far more than it seemed, as we suspected from the extreme care the prosecution had taken with the case, and we discovered for certain during the sentencing phase.

I ended the week with the images of an innocent bystander murdered…caught in a shootout…in full color/motion and from every angle…burned into my head.

It shook me up far more than I can explain.

Yeah. The jaded, world traveling, burly, biker dude.

And I can’t find the damned erase button.

To the defendant…whom we put away for 85 years…may God have mercy on your soul…if you even have one…because surely I have none for you.

And damn you for making me face that fact.

Ride. I think I need to ride.

But I need to vomit first.

And I really, really need that damned erase button.

Daniel Meyer

This entry was posted in Lunacy, Mood. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Where’s the damn erase button?

  1. safari bob says:

    I’ve been a juror on two State and one Federal case (I won’t count how many times I was called to duty and didn’t serve because I’m honest in my views and most lawyers don’t want me on a jury ’cause I’m conservative). One state case was civil and one was criminal. The civil one was dismissed when it was found the facts were not in dispute. The criminal one we found the defendant not guilty because all we could determine was that a fight HAD happened between a couple that were seperated, but all we had was “he said/she said”–no firm evidence. I still remember the screaming of a little girl on a tape we had to listen to. The federal case we deliberated for 3 days even though from the outset I found it an open and shut case. They guy was threatening a federal judge in documents submitted to the court on a seperate case. His lawyer tried to call it “poetry”. We found him guilty thinking we were sending him up the river for 80+ years-we were VERY careful to double check all the evidence presented. They gave him 2 years for each of the three counts–served concurrently not consecutively. A couple years later I was called back as a witness because the guy thought we had been “coerced” into finding him guilty–as if I’d let someone tell me to do something I didn’t believe in. Last time I was called in they threw me off the jury. The case was about a guy who molested a little girl and admitted it–we were to determine if it was first, second or third degree. She was seven years old. Same age as my girl at that time. I told the judge flat out: “I’ve got a seven year old myself–I’ll give you my vote now: Guilty in the first. If you want my real thoughts, well, I won’t charge for the ammo”. Judge didn’t like my answer and asked if I would serve if it was a murder case. I said yes. I probably should have stayed on and made sure he served the maximum sentence. However I found out I’m not a tough guy. I couldn’t handle that sort of evidence after listening to that little girl scream on the audio of the last case (same month of jury duty).

    I’m sorry you had to see what you saw and most likely heard. I honestly feel your pain. Take a ride brother. Work on the house. You did good.

Leave a Reply