Three weeks, three full notebooks, eleven new friends, it's been quite an experience. And now that the
admonition has been lifted, I can talk about it all. Not that anyone outside of the courtroom I've been in for three weeks really cares (and frankly a lot of us in that courtroom didn't care too much either).
I was Juror #4 on a civil case, a lawsuit, between a homeowners' association (a
HOA as I quickly found out) and a developer. The
HOA sued the developer because the condos built in the neighborhood did not look exactly like the condos that had been there for the past thirty years. They have been in litigation for over three years and as of last night, they could be in litigation for a while longer.
I haven't seen the condos in question because we were barred for going to the neighborhood however I have seen hundreds of photos. So many that by the end of the trial when the attorneys were quizzing various witnesses on which were old condos and which were new, I had the answer before the witness. In fact, I knew all the answers by that point, we all did. I was amazed by how much time was spent going over the same questions, over and over and over.
All through the trial we, as a jury talked, we talked about the evidence, we talked about the witnesses, we talked about the lawyers' haircuts and skirts, we talked about who we thought was lying and who we thought was telling the truth. We talked about our families, about where we were going for lunch, about what we'd seen on TV the night before, and what we did at our jobs. Within a very short period of time we knew a lot about each other. That was the great part about this whole experience.
It was also interesting seeing the inner workings of the legal system, especially when you combine personalities and real people's lives. There were times when the judge had to remind the attorneys to keep their tempers in check, there were times when the lawyers stumbled over their words, when the judge seemed to fall asleep, when the
bailiff had to tell the
plaintiff not to mumble curse words that the jury could hear, when the judge who had a habit of rocking back and forth in his chair nearly knocked down the flag behind him.
While it wasn't as exciting as most episodes of
Law & Order, it did have a few moments. I liked watching the faces of the
plaintiffs when a witness would get up on the stand and tell a story that completely contradicted what they had testified too. It was a game we played to keep ourselves awake, who's telling the truth today and who's not quite remembering it all. Then there was the moment, a week ago Thursday when the
plaintiff rested and the defense attorney stood up and asked the judge for a direct verdict. That was the moment, had this been a movie, when every head in the courtroom would have
swiveled around and said, "What?!?!?!" The jury was ushered out quickly and that afternoon the defense began. There would be no direct verdict for us, no matter how much we hoped and prayed at lunch that day.
We started as a jury of 12 but then Thursday morning we were reduced to 11. Juror #5 who sat next to me the entire time went to the hospital with a possible heart attack. He has severe back problems but had been managing his pain well and was very intent on doing his civic duty. Friday morning he called our
bailiff and begged to come back in to finish the job. She couldn't allow him to do that but she did let us know he was doing well (blood pressure medicine snafu) and wanted to tell us how glad he was to have met us all. On Friday another juror wore a Hawaiian shirt, just like #5 always wore, in honor of him.
On Thursday at 4:30, we were sent in to our room to deliberate. We chose our foreman and we adjourned for the night. On Friday, at 1:30 we began again. Our foreman was a man who works for the federal government and who I bet is very good at his job because he was the best foreman we could have chosen. He wanted everyone to be heard and wanted to make sure we reached a fair decision. Before we began yesterday, he had us do an icebreaker - he had each of us go around the table (there were 11 of us at this point) and talk for 1-2 minutes (we were timed). I thought this was a very cool activity - it allowed for us to talk as a whole group, something that didn't often happen with that many people, and allowed for a little ease in the tension we all felt in wanting the case to be over and to do well at our task.
Then we began deliberating. We had 28
interrogatories to decide. Yes, 28 counts with 2 parts each. It was quite a process. First we did a blind vote and eliminated all those with a majority
consensus (we only had to have 8 on one side of the issue to sign off). We didn't have a single count that was unanimous. So we started talking. We argued points of law, we argued emotions and feelings and interpretations. And I was really glad we weren't deciding something really important like life in
prison versus the death penalty.
Twenty-five of our counts dealt with changes to the condos and whether or not they were made due to code or some other justifiable reason. We all agreed that each change had indeed been made but then there were a lot of different answers to why they were made. We'd heard from architects, engineers, real estate agents, contractors, builders, etc. and after a while it was hard to remember who said what and why. So we went to our notes. And we talked some more.
As a whole, we agreed that the developers had to make some changes to the buildings. Not all the changes requested by the
HOA but a lot of them. Then we had 3 more counts to decide. We had to determine whether the
HOA had acted with "unclean hands" - which we thought meant that hadn't been completely upfront with the developer and hadn't acted as fairly as possible when dealing with them. Then we had to determine "
estoppel" - which we thought meant that even though the
HOA had acted unfairly, the developer still had to make the changes and abide by the
HOA's original building plans. Finally, we had to decide if the developer should receive an offset to recoup financial losses and if so, how much.
And then there was a lot more discussion. And we sent questions to the judge to try and figure out what unclean hands and
estoppel really meant because we felt the jury directions were unclear. We got answers back an hour later that said reread our directions. Some help he was.
So we made our decision. Eight of us agreed that the
HOA had acted with unclean hands and then we decided that that didn't mean they couldn't still enforce their rules. Later, we'd find out that this means we'd "split the baby" - apparently a legal term. We thought we were being fair. Throughout this whole trial I, along with many others, had talked about how we thought that all the parties were of equal fault, if they had all communicated better none of us would be there. So we wanted to make sure they knew our feelings - that we felt they all had played a part in this mess. Thus, we "split the baby" or the blame. Then we awarded an offset to the defendant, in our minds to cover the costs of making the changes we had decided upon. We awarded the developer $60,000. We came at this number several ways: several contractors had testified that it would cost between $16,000 and $20,000 per condo (and there are 3 in question) to make the changes the
HOA wanted. Also, the defense had presented $120,000 as the amount that the developer lost during this entire ordeal. So we decided $60,000 would cover the costs of changes (and we knew that the developer, who is a member of the
HOA, would pay a portion of this himself so we thought it was fair overall).
At 5:05pm we entered the courtroom for the last time. One juror was almost in tears. She was confused somewhat and didn't think we were being fair to the developer. She thought he shouldn't have to make any changes. While we all respected her right to her opinion, and told her that, we had 8 signatures on the verdict and we were good to go. Others didn't agree and just didn't sign. But we had a majority and that's all we needed. One juror was angry, she felt we were rushing and truth be told, we were. It was 5pm on Friday and everyone wanted to go home. And most of us didn't want to come back Tuesday (there were a few who did but they lost out). We did come up with the dollar amount in less than five minutes but it was a number we'd been talking about for a few days and those of us who signed felt we were doing good by the developer, and again, that we were splitting the blame.
So we went into court and the judge read our verdict. He was confused he said and just needed to check them again to make sure he understood. This is when I first realized something was off. Then he read them into open court - it took over half an hour. And when he got to the unclean hands bit, the
plaintiff's attorneys started to react, mildly of course, but you could tell they weren't happy. We thought they'd change their minds when the next verdict was read, the
estoppel, but no, they weren't. So then the
plaintiff's attorney asked if he could poll the jury. So the judge asked each of us who'd signed if that was indeed our decision. That took some time. And then we were dismissed.
Here's two things I didn't know before my jury duty experience: 1)the court, including the judge, stands for the jury. I didn't think they stood for anyone except the judge. That was kinda cool. And 2)after the case is over, the lawyers want to talk to the jurors and we're allowed to. That was kind of interesting.
So we leave the building and the
plaintiffs and their lawyers are waiting for us. The defense is long gone, probably to celebrate we find out later. And here's what we find out from the
plaintiff's lawyer: When we handed down the "unclean hands" verdict, the ball game was over. That was apparently the only verdict that matter. Once it's determined that the
HOA had unclean hands, they have no right to enforce anything. That means the developer doesn't have to make any of the changes we spent hours debating.
As a jury, we had no idea this verdict was so influential. We even asked for clarification and got none. We thought we were being fair and just by "splitting the baby". Apparently we were not. We essentially told the
HOA they were wrong, we told the developer he was right and he could do whatever he wanted to his buildings and the future buildings he'd put up there (he owns 9 more lots in the neighborhood), and we gave the developer $60,000 just for the hell of it.
I was shocked. Four of us stayed around to talk to the lawyers (our foreman got caught right away and I didn't think it was fair for him to have to answer questions about the verdict all alone so I stayed) who were obviously baffled by our decision. Mind you, they had wanted to win outright regardless but once they explained to us what our verdict meant, we were completely shocked. And we told them that. And then we were asked for
affidavits to that effect. So it might not be over for me yet. Gotta love civil cases.
Overall, it was an interesting experience. One I am ultimately glad I had. Am I frustrated at how slowly our legal system works? Yes. This case should not have taken this long to get through. It really shouldn't have. And it could have been settled long ago, before the first nail had ever been pounded had the whole group of people done their jobs better. But I met some great folks. I spent a lot of time talking to them. I got to sleep in for 9 days and exercise a lot more than I ever would have had I been going to school. I got money for mileage. I experienced one of Yuma's hidden treasures (the Garden Cafe). And I got a peak into the jury system, which really does seem to be one of the best ways to settle issues. Every single person in that room wanted to do the right thing and ultimately, to the best of ability, I think we did. We took the law, the facts and made a decision. And while everyone can't always get what they want, they did get a resolution.
And now I get to go back to my normal workweek. Pray for me. It's May. And if any of you know anything about school come May, you know what I'm talking about:-)
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