I served on a jury once in the late 1980’s involving a drug-related murder outside a corner bar in Chester.

Other than the fact that the District Attorney was devastatingly handsome, the experience bore little resemblance to what you see on television and was in fact quite sobering. 

We, as a jury, were never aware that some of the witnesses, although dressed in street clothes, had been transported from prison to testify. And unlike many fictional trials, the entire process from jury selection to sentencing lasted only 5 days.  

So when I got an official looking letter a few months ago…“You are summoned to serve as a juror in the Delaware County Court of Common Pleas, located at the Court House, Media, PA, for a term of service commencing on February 12, 2010”  

My first thought—oh crap!

It’s like getting one of those happy tooth postcards, your dentist sends out reminding you of your next appointment.

According to the Delaware County jury commission, approximately 17,000 jurors are called to serve each year, randomly chosen from a list of more than 380,000 registered voters in the county.

So I mailed back my questionnaire and reported for jury duty last Friday.

The Media Courthouse is a large, elegant structure gracing West Front Street in Media. Completed in 1851, additional wings were added in 1871 and 1882.

But like most courthouses today, getting in is just like going through airport security— place your “carry-on” on the conveyor belt and step through the scanner.

After watching an informational DVD, we were given a red juror button as well as a number to wear for the jury selection process. As our numbers were called we lined up in the hallway along the wall. A court officers assigned to our panel of 60 made sure we stayed in line and quiet.

Instant flashback to Strafford Elementary School–Mrs. Walker has us lined up ready to go to the cafeteria.

We were led upstairs to Courtroom #6 for the process of “Voir Dire,” the actual selection of the jury.

The court clerk had a computer-generated list of every name on our panel, our corresponding juror numbers and information based on our questionnaires. And if you don’t think your political leaning and socio-economic status doesn’t jump out at the attorneys, think again.

After our panel of 60, now seated in the body of the courtroom, was sworn in, the judge summarized the nature of the case, giving the names of the parties, the attorneys and list of witnesses making sure there would be no conflict of interest. The trial was to last two days.

After a series of general questions, the long process called “striking” began, as the attorneys crossed off names of jurors they believed would not be in their client’s best interest.

By 12:45 p.m. the jury of 12 plus two alternates had been seated.

And as I left the courthouse that afternoon, I knew I had, in a very small way, participated in our country’s legal system—real life, real people, real practice. Not Perry Mason, Denny Crane or Alan Shore and definitely not Hollywood.

Because when you look at the flesh and blood defendant, a defendant who is facing a jail term behind bars, you realize this is not a script and the importance of your presence becomes all too abundantly clear.