The Jury, Episode 6: Closing Statements and Panic Attacks

[elfs]

Outside the court chambers, justice center rotunda, 3rd floor.

After our break, we reassemble for the final part of the trial: instructions to the jury, the closing statements, and the choosing of the alternate.

The judge seems much more awake this time. She reads the instructions to us with a firm and meaning-filled voice. She really means this stuff. Even though, technically, we can ignore everything she says about it not being our duty to decide the law of the case since Georgia v. Brailsford (1794), it's not really going to be an issue here, and I've already done my duty to the jury as the nullification proponent. Nothing here worth nullifying, really. It's just a sad injury claims case.

Two instructions catch all our eyes. One is that the defense is liable if we find that the Miss T is injured and, second, if those injuries can be, based upon a preponderance of the evidence, attributed to her injury by Frank. It moves the bar considerably: for some jurors, it will raise it. For others, lower it. My bar is twisty and multi-dimensional in ways an XKCD fan would appreciate.

Landry opens. He's stiff, keeping his arms crossed across his body as he makes his case. He leans back and talks slowly, like a dark-skinned Mt. Rushmore figurine. Miss T is injured, and Doc McC didn't do anything to discredit that statement. McC's credibility is at stake (Landry doesn't say so in some many words, but that's the message, loud and clear) when he disputes the purpose and function of a "world class pain clinic" at a hospital where he practices and lectures. He gives us some numbers, some explicit (about $20K in medical bills), some approximate ($6K-8K for future procedures), and no guidance at all about non-economic damages (pain and suffering). He says the evidence "is what it is."

Koenig closes. He has a rectangular head, and his haircut does him no benefit. Today he reminds me of a double-wide box of Rice Crispies with a mouth. It's a sleazy business, being a personal injury lawyer, and I don't know if I'd trust either of these men. Koenig agrees that his client is on the hook for the ER treatments, and for maybe, maybe the first two years of care. Nothing more. For pain and suffering, he says, $12-$20K is probably reasonable. That's half a year of her life that she'll be able to live and get the care she needs. She's employed full-time now as a paralegal.

He makes the case that she had a sudden decline two years after the accident for reasons not related to the accident. That the medical records show she's recovered full "range of motion", that her responses are "within normal limits," that she reports herself as being "fine" at times and "stressed" at others-- but those other times, the evidence shows, are job-related, or life-related, not due to her injuries, and that she's "clinically much improved." Koenig draws a timeline on paper, telling us his theory, that yes she was hurt, and yes his client takes some responsibility for paying for her injuries, but after six years both he and Miss T should be allowed to have a final number and get on with their lives. Koenig actually says, "I'm a laywer, not a doctor, but..." Koenig is animated. He uses his hands a lot to make points as he walks back and forth, an actor on his own stage, deep in his own episode of Law & Order.

I keep reminding myself that this is neither testimony nor evidence; it's simply the lawyers trying to draw our attention to the facts we have (or will have, when we're given the evidence itself) that each believes will sway us in the favor of his client, and away from that evidence or recollection (or notes) of testimony that disadvantages his client.

Landry rebuts: the job-stress story is "a smokescreen," and "a red herring." (Red Herring, "a narrative element intended to distract the reader from a more important event in the plot." I've always wondered exactly what it meant.) Miss T is injured. Frank should pay for the medical bills she would not have if it weren't for him, and she should also be compensated for the pain and suffering his negligence caused.

Good grief, he tries to place sclerotherapy as a technique that works for some people "like accupuncture." Uh huh. Yeah. Woo meter beeps plaintively. It thought we were done.

He closes. Everyone sits down. My chair makes a loud noise as I rearrange myself. It does that a lot. I seem to have gotten the squeaky seat.

The bailiff comes in with a wooden box, tumbles and turns it, and then comes the moment of truth. It is a lottery, and the Judge is our Shirley Jackson. She picks out a number. My heart is beating fast, I'm starting to sweat and experience vague somaethesia, a funny kind of fight or flight stress reaction completely unjustified by the actual content of the moment. She reads the number.

It's not me.

I'm staying. I get to be deliberate. A juror in the front row, to my left, is let go. The judge advises him to remain silent until a verdict is delivered, as he may be called if one of us falls suddenly ill.

We're released for lunch. I have to get out of there. I take the car, risking my parking space, and drive over to Cave Man Kitchens. The woman behind the counter said, "Oh, a juror! What's that like? I keep getting summoned but I never go." I tell her it's boring. That would probably be true, for her.

Comments

[anthologie.livejournal.com]

I'm surprised you would tell someone else that serving on a jury is dull (or that would make the assumption that someone else would think it was). I love courtrooms and find even the smallest things interesting (as a reporter, I hang on every word as the judge is giving jury instructions; they're so ... cool). Granted, as a reporter I have perhaps more of an interest in these things than some, but jury duty is a chance to watch the legal process first-hand, and I think most folks who have a passing interest in human behavior and laws would find it thought-provoking.

[omahas.livejournal.com]

I think that Elf feels that anyone who would say that they keep getting summoned and yet never go must think it dull or they would have accepted the call to civic duty at least once.

Elf forgets that some people don't have a salaried job, and simply can *never* afford any time off a job that doesn't pay when you aren't there, which means that less money for the hungry mouths at home.

[elfs.livejournal.com]

Jury duty is dull enough that one guy had trouble keeping his eyes open. Anyone who's not curious enough to actually try and go, even if she "keeps getting summonses," probably wouldn't be interested enough to make the trip worthwhile.

I mean, sure, this was an annoyance given my job and all, but it has its virtues (http://xkcd.com/77/).

[anthologie.livejournal.com]

Well, jury duty is made out to be a chore, but a lot of people find that once they get there, it's actually pretty interesting. Maybe she'd like it if she tried it, that's all I'm saying. Not trying to pick on you. :)

Jury instruction...

[blaisepascal]

Those jury instruction surely moved the bar for me. Based on your descriptions, I believe that she was injured, and that Frank injured her, but I also feel that her actions (leaving the hospital against medical advice, not seeking a 2nd opinion, etc) place a lot of the burden for her continuing pain and suffering on her. For equity, I'd go with Koenig's assessment, but without further instruction, it appears I'd have to give her everything.

[lisakit.livejournal.com]

It's a sleazy business, being a personal injury lawyer, and I don't know if I'd trust either of these men.

The personal injury lawyer I worked for genuinely cared about our clients. He also made sure he could believe the client before taking the case and the staff had instructions to bring anything to him that we had questions on, including anything that sounded hinky in the evidence we gathered. I actually did that on one case and he followed up on that thread doing more in-depth research. He was (and is) passionate about helping people and getting them the reparation they deserve. He was also cognizant of the impact he and his ilk could have on insurance rates and things like that, especially with frivolous suits. He gets a percentage of the verdict as his fees, meaning nothing if he recovers nothing, and occasionally does pro-bono work. The old partnership split up due to personality issues, but he has a thriving business now and I liked and respected him so well I keep in touch even though he has no openings for me. I'm actually earning more now than I did as a paralegal, but I would enjoy working with him again. He is a kind and caring man with a great deal of personal integrity.

Frankly, even with the asshat I later worked for, I was impressed with his integrity. Lawyers are human and come in as many varieties as the rest of us, but most are concerned with creating order and justice in the world.