“Three things happened then. The hunting dog fetched the dynamite. The dynamite blew a hole in the ice. The truck sank. We told him there’s no insurance coverage for stupidity.”

Stories

THE JURY AT THE SCOOTER LIBBY TRIAL

[What follows is a juror’s unedited impressions, memories
and facts presented in 14 parts. The names of all jurors have been
changed. Quotes are based on the author’s recollections and
notes.]

I. Deliberation Day

“This is a case about memory, about recollections and
about words.” We’ve heard from the fighting Irishman and
weeping Wells, a gaggle of Pulitzer Prize winners, and some of the best
and brightest from the CIA, State Department, FBI and office of the
Vice President. The Honorable Reggie Walton has just provided us final
instructions.

Deliberations in the case of the United States vs. I. Lewis
“Scooter” Libby in District Court for the District of
Columbia are ready to commence, when one of the jurors offers an
unsolicited statement regarding the solemn task before us.

“I think they’re lying. Every one of them.”

Who knew? For six weeks we’ve been as judicious as novice
G-men, careful to abstain from conversation about witnesses and their
testimony, the war in Iraq, President Bush, VP Cheney and the relative
merits of the half dozen lawyers litigating before us. All we’ve
had to talk about is ourselves and, with one exception, the talk has
been good.

“I know a lot about everything stupid.”

“So how did we know we’d hit bottom in this trial? When we stood on chairs to look at the human cows.”

“When I was 10 years old, I had to hide behind sand mounds to escape the Shining Path guerillas in Peru.”

“Three things happened then. The hunting dog fetched the
dynamite. The dynamite blew a hole in the ice. The truck sank. We told
him there’s no insurance coverage for stupidity.”

We know nothing of one another’s political views and,
except for one juror who wears a Star of David stud in his left
earlobe, little about our religious preferences. What we know is that
we like each other, laugh a lot and take the job seriously.

But now, shut inside our 6th floor jury lounge, we look across
the pide created by that unexpected shout out and wonder where to step.

“Why don’t we start at the beginning?” says
our foreperson Susan, an accounting manager at one of DC’s
biggest law firms and, more impressive to us, a marathon runner, yoga
pa and all around sweetheart. “We’ll take the witnesses one
by one and review the testimony.”

(Read the article)

Leave a comment