I received a postcard notifying me of jury duty. No worries. It would be for one trial or one day the card said.
Since most cases are less than a week, and there is always the chance of not being selected, I arrived at the courthouse with an open mind. While waiting for the facilitator to give us instructions on how the day would precede, a video played reminding us of our civic duty. As an honest person, I identified with the message. I’m certain I would want a jury of my peers to represent me or my family if there was ever a situation where we were charged with a crime. I would want someone like me to be on the jury, who could set aside personal opinions and deliver a verdict based on evidence.
Then the facilitator dropped a bomb: “Everyone here today is for the jury for Burrell Ellis.” After four days of jury selection, I was chosen.
Once the trial started, my nerves went into overdrive. This was not an ordinary case. This was Burrell Ellis, CEO of the county in which I have lived for 42 years. For the next five weeks, my life belonged to DeKalb County. From 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. I was in the courtroom, and from 5 p.m. until 9 a.m. the courtroom was in my head.
My stress level elevated. We discovered early in our deliberations that obtaining a unanimous verdict would be no small task. We alerted the judge on several occasions of our situation, but we were told to continue deliberating. Every day in the jury room was a new adventure. Every time we would take two steps forward toward reaching a verdict on a count, we would take one step back on another count.
Just as the pendulum on the clock swings back and forth, so did the emotions of the jurors and the votes on each count. The desire to reach a unanimous verdict on at least some of the counts became a mission. The mission, unfortunately, was a mission impossible. We did not have the necessary tools in our tool belt as a unit to reach a desirable outcome. Judge Courtney Johnson armed us with laws and the defense and prosecuting attorneys gave us a mountain of evidence to assist us with our mission. However, as ordinary citizens of the county, we were not formally educated on the complexities of legal jargon. We could not overcome the laws on grave suspicion and reasonable doubt as a unit.
When Judge Johnson announced a mistrial, I had a feeling of relief. I could return to my life, but my way of thinking about our judicial process would be forever changed. I now understand how guilty men and women can be acquitted by a jury of their peers.
Everyone wants to know if Burrell Ellis is guilty. Guilt or innocence is in the minds of the 12 jurors who are supposed to give a unanimous verdict as a unit, but must arrive at that verdict as individuals.
