An exhilerating experience I'd like to repeat.
Whenever anybody mentions having been called for jury duty, most quickly add, “I do everything I can to get out of it.” Big mistake – especially if one is retired. In January 2012 I served on a jury and those eight days in a courtroom remain a highlight of my retirement – informative, consequential, and civilly responsible. I learned what happens in a real Canadian trial, compared to what’s seen on television or in a movie.
Summoned to appear at the Toronto courthouse on Monday at 9 am, I brought reading material. Five hundred of us sat around an enormous holding cell…er, space waiting to be called by a court clerk. Cohorts of thirty potential jurors receive initial orientation, then are winnowed down to the twelve needed to begin a trial. Others are dismissed.
Sociologically, it was interesting to note a gradual increase in noise level in the large space. Silence for most of the first morning, then a low hum after lunch as strangers gradually began chatting. By 10 am on Tuesday, the buzz was considerably louder as the newly acquainted visited with one another, sharing family photos.
After Tuesday lunch, the court clerk called my name and I joined twenty-nine others in a smaller space, set up like a classroom. A PowerPoint presentation explained the process of serving on a jury and its benefits to society, then former jurors shared their positive experiences in a video. Being retired and recently divorced, I sincerely hoped to qualify. Nowhere else I had to be.
Orientation
Our group was shepherded to seats outside a sixth-floor courtroom. Every time a name was called, its owner was ushered inside while the rest of us twiddled our thumbs, wondering what was going on inside. After managing impatience for half an hour, I was thrilled to hear, “Patricia Butler.”
Entering the quiet chamber, I drank in the spectacle: wood paneled walls, framed portrait of Queen Elizabeth, female judge sitting higher than anyone else, witness box with microphone, chair for the defendant, desks for opposing lawyers, twelve seats for jurors. Just like in a movie.
I was invited to sit in the witness box, then the judge addressed me as Juror Number Five. She asked me several personal details like occupation, citizenship, and availability for a two-week trial. Then prosecuting and defence lawyers each asked, “Do you have a bias against people from race X (the defendant’s race)?” No. “Please look at the defendant and say whether you have ever interacted with this person.” No.
The judge asked each lawyer if they would accept me as a juror. Yes. “Juror Number Four, do you accept Juror Number Five?” Yes, said the woman in the fourth jury seat. Whew.
After the next candidate was brought in and questioned, the judge asked if I accepted Juror Number Six, adding, “You can say no without explaining your reasoning.” Yes.
Later, Juror Number Nine said no. Probably because the candidate for Number Ten behaved frivolously – tapping the witness box microphone, saying, “Testing, testing.” He seemed unlikely to pay close attention to evidence being presented, was dismissed, and another candidate was hauled in from the pool.
Hearing Evidence
Writing this account twelve years later, some elements may be out of order. Once all twelve of us were qualified, the judge explained the six charges the defendant faced. We were allowed to take notes when hearing evidence but had to leave them in the jury room overnight. Every morning we were to take the escalator up to the sixth-floor courtroom – the defendant would be brought by elevator, and we were to be kept separate. Each day we could leave to have lunch.
Her overview of the trial process was helpful. Following evidence, when we deliberate to reach the six verdicts, we will be sequestered (confined) until we reach a unanimous decision on each charge. During sequestration we must not have any contact with anyone outside the jury.
On Wednesday morning, we twelve assembled in our assigned jury room and hung out there during breaks. The level of diversity among us was extraordinary: six men and six women; races included Black, Asian, South-Asian, White; ages from 21 to 71; diverse sexual orientation; diverse education level; variety of occupation (from dishwasher to doctor). How did that happen when the selection process had been so complex? Impressive.
We were escorted into the courtroom in single file, in numerical order. The calling of witnesses began: policewomen and policemen, victim’s parents, Bell Canada expert disclosing cellphone records, fingerprint analyst. (Intriguing glimpse into the seedy world of prostitution; the hamburger joint on Jarvis is known as Hooker Harvey’s.) Evidence presented over six days involved interviews, audiotapes, videotapes, and architectural plans.
In watching video of the police’s first questioning of the defendant at 2 am, I was impressed by the polite, even tone used. “Here’s a phone for you to call your lawyer. Would you like to be put in touch with one?”
Deliberation
Upon completion of evidence, the judge carefully prepared us for deliberation, which would begin the following day. After electing a foreperson, we twelve would discuss and debate until we reached a verdict on each charge. Guilt must be decided “beyond a reasonable doubt.”
If unable to complete deliberation by 10 pm, we would sleep in a downtown hotel overnight, so needed to bring necessities in a suitcase. No cellphones or laptops permitted. We were given an emergency phone number loved ones could call if they needed to reach us. This saddened me because I had no partner caring where I was.
We should expect disagreements when deciding whether the defendant was Guilty or Not Guilty. We were forbidden to ever tell anyone outside the jury anything about our conversations – a stark contrast to the tell-all books written by O.J.Simpson jurors.
When a clerk knocked on our door to escort us anywhere, we were to be silent. Whenever a juror wanted to smoke, all twelve of us had to put on our winter coats and accompany them into the January cold. Rather a pain. Coffee-breaks had been provided all along, but now lunch and dinner would be brought in, so we chose from a menu. If there were any pieces of evidence we wanted to see or hear again, the foreperson would request it and we would all head into the courtroom. This happened twice.
Deliberations went on all Friday, and we reached six unanimous decisions by about 5 pm. After dinner in the jury room, we walked single file into the courtroom to present our decisions. For each charge, the judge asked our foreman the verdict. Then each juror was asked individually to state their verdict.
We found the defendant Guilty of:
- Impersonating a police officer
- Forcible confinement
- Assault
- Sexual Assault
- Extortion
- Possession of an illegal weapon
The judge thanked us for our diligence. Sentencing would happen at a later date, so I never learned his punishment.
To prevent our being followed by unsavoury friends of the defendant, we were given taxi chits to get home. Being a taxpayer, I was impressed that three of us who lived up Yonge Street (at St.Clair, Eglinton, Lawrence) were sent off in the same cab, to save money!
Looking back, I feel pride and exhilaration about my role in our justice system. Summoned again in December 2021, I was disappointed when everybody was dismissed after only a morning in the holding space. Something about cancellations due to COVID…