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After a day of jury selection and three days of hearing the case, we were given our instructions at 9:30 on Friday morning. Our deliberation was deliberate but swift.

I was selected as foreperson pretty much by virtue of having sat at the head of the table, and having the biggest mouth. I asked if my fellow jurors wanted to do a secret ballot or simply go around the table and state which way we currently leaned, and they all agreed that a secret ballot was unnecessary. Initially, four of us already favored the defendant. The other two were on the fence.

We spent some time discussing the plaintiff’s case, and asked the two undecideds what evidence they felt that the rest of us had overlooked. Both were concerned about one item: although the defendant claimed he had checked the plaintiff’s pedal pulses before surgery, he had failed to chart the data. However, even if he hadn’t checked the pulses, that couldn’t have led to the complications that resulted in plaintiff’s injury. After we discussed that for about five minutes, both of the undecideds decided to find for the defendant.

We’d only been in the jury room for half an hour and nobody wanted to rush back with the verdict. We decided that we would each read the evidence files first and satisfy ourselves that there was nothing we had overlooked.

Forty-five minutes later, we were convinced. The doctor had done nothing wrong. Nor had he failed to do anything he should have done–at least, nothing that rose to the level of negligence that contributed to the injury. We took another vote. Again, unanimous for the defendant.

Finally, before I filled out the verdict form and signed it, I read it aloud. I turned to each juror in turn. “Are you 100% comfortable with finding for the defendant?” Each one answered yes. It seemed redundant, but I wanted to be sure that once we returned to the courtroom, no one would have second thoughts.

When each juror had answered in the affirmative, I filled out the form and signed it. I knocked on the door, showed the form to the bailiff, who handed it back to me.  We waited for a few minutes, then she brought us back in.

The reading of the verdict is a ritual much like the saying of the mass. In the mass, the priest transforms ordinary bread and wine into the literal body and blood of Christ. In the courtroom, the judge transforms the opinion of six ordinary citizens into the power of the state.

Judge: Who was selected as the foreperson?
Me: I was, your honor.
Judge: Have you reached a verdict?
Me: We have, your honor.
Judge: Please hand the verdict form to the bailiff.

The bailiff hands the verdict to the judge, who looks it over.

Judge: I find no errors on this verdict form. Will the clerk please publish the verdict?

And the clerk reads the verdict. Sighs of relief from the defendant and counsel. Glares of death from plaintiff.

Judge: Does either counsel wish to have the jury polled?
Plaintiff’s counsel: We would, your honor.

Judge: Mr. Falco, is this your verdict?
Me: Yes, it is.

And so on, down the line. No hesitations. The judge thanked us for our service, released us, and out we went.