So Help Me God

by Larry D. Thompson

  "Sir, I believe that I may have given some money once to something that sounds like Operation Save-a-Life."

  "Isn't it possible, Mr. Jackson, that you have given money to that organization for the past five years and are actually a member of that group?" Tod continued to probe in a very calm and pleasant voice.

  "Well, sir, I guess it's possible."

  "In fact, Mr. Jackson, that's the truth, isn't it?"

  Knowing he was defeated, Jackson gave up, "Yes, sir. I suppose it is."

  Without objection, Judge O'Reilly excused Jackson.

  Johnny Bob chalked up one for Tod and mentally smiled at his adversary. This was going to be a battle. Tod then asked about folks who had bad experiences with hospitals or doctors that might influence their objectivity in this case. Four people were excused.

  Tod asked to approach the bench. All five lawyers huddled with him. "Your Honor, Mr. Tisdale did not ask any questions of those people who answered the questionnaire about abortion."

  "He's right, Judge. An oversight on my part," Johnny Bob agreed. Tod continued, "Your Honor, it's getting late in the day, but we're going to have to call them up to the bench individually. A number of them have already been excused for other reasons, and if my calculations are correct, there are still twelve who have had an abortion or have a family member who has had one."

  Judge O'Reilly interrupted, "Then, let's get them up here. I want this jury picked today."

  They turned out to be a mixed bag. Of the eight women who remained on the panel and who'd had an abortion, four were still traumatized by the experience. Two continued to have nightmares even though it had been twenty years. The other four had an abortion, each for a different reason with none of the four having experienced any long-term effects. Each of the four said that under the same circumstances, they would do it again. All eight were excused by agreement. Four jurors had family members who had abortions. One man had a daughter who became pregnant at fourteen and the family agreed that she should have an abortion. He was excused. As to the other three, a distant relative had the abortion. They remained on the panel.

  Tod's last question dealt with Dr. Moyo's cross-action. When the jury heard that he was seeking large sums of money for damage to reputation, four jurors said that they just didn't think anyone's reputation was worth that kind of money no matter what bad names he was called.

  The judge counted up the remaining jurors, confirmed with Tod that was his last question and then agreed to excuse all four. She forgot about Jan who reminded the judge that she had some remarks. Jan's voir dire was brief. She introduced Gloria McMahon, her client's local director. She clarified that Population Planning did much more than terminate pregnancies and, within the constraints of voir dire examination, she painted a carefully crafted picture of a civic minded organization, doing good in the community. Satisfied she had accomplished her mission, she sat down.

  The judge then announced, "Voir dire is completed. If my calculations are correct, we have twenty-seven jurors left. Each side gets six strikes; so, with a jury of twelve plus two alternates, we've got one left over. That's a little too close for comfort, but we made it. Since each side is using an empty classroom at lunch, I've made arrangements for those to be your home away from home during trial. You can leave your gear there, and the bailiff will lock them when you're in court. For now, please use them to make your strikes. You've got twenty minutes."

  ***

  The attorneys and their clients retired to their respective rooms and gathered chairs around a table. Johnny Bob told his clients what would happen next. "We don't really get to pick the jury. The whole process is one of elimination. We started with almost two hundred and are now down to twenty-seven. Again, no picking involved. We can strike any six for any reason."

  T. J. asked, "Am I correct that the other side does the same."

  "Again, T. J., you're a quick study. We'll end up with twelve members on the jury panel and two spares in the event that somebody becomes incapacitated, has a family emergency or such. Claudia, give us a brief overview."

  "Okay, we've got fourteen women and thirteen men. Among the women, three are black, two Hispanic, eight Anglo and one Asian, probably Vietnamese. Three are fifty years old or above. Five are between thirty and fifty, with six under thirty. As to the men, two black, two Hispanic, and nine Anglo. Ages run the gamut from eighteen to sixty-five. Now let's figure out who we just can't live with and go from there."

  ***

  In the room across the hall, Tod, Jan, Wayne, Dr. Moyo and Gloria studied the same list. In spite of computers and investigators, and in some cases, jury psychologists and even handwriting specialists, there is very little science to jury selection. Most lawyers have certain rules of thumb that guide them. Blacks are pro-plaintiff unless the defendant is black; Hispanics are emotional and tend to be bleeding hearts; blue collar workers like to give away corporate money; businessmen and accountants side with the defense; government workers are liberal; Lutherans are conservative. The list could go on and on, but such rules of thumb are as noteworthy for their exceptions as otherwise. With only a short time to evaluate a person and what made that person tick, it was often what Tod called a "wag," a wild-assed guess. Most trial lawyers agreed that jury selection was a crap shoot. No wonder Johnny Bob decided to just rely on his instincts.

  CHAPTER 63

  The bailiff called out the juror's names and asked them to take seats in the jury box.

  "Amy Bourland"…forty-ish, white, plump, a third grade teacher, surprised and delighted to be on the jury, something she would be able to tell her students and grand kids about. She primped her hair just a little as she took the first seat in the box, ecstatic to be national TV.

  "Joshua Ferrell"…thirty, black, construction foreman in the daytime, going to the University of Houston at night, studying engineering, didn't have time to be serving on a jury, couldn't figure out a way to get out of it, had a strong temper that he worked to keep under control. At least his company would pay his salary while he served. He could still attend night classes and squeeze in a little studying during breaks and at lunch.

  "Roy Judice"…fifty, white, mid-level manager for an oil company, married, father of three kids, drove a white Suburban with peewee football bumper stickers on the back, lived in an upper-middle class subdivision west of Houston and commuted in a van pool to downtown daily, spent all of his spare time coaching or watching his kid's games. Normally would be considered a juror favorable to the defense in a malpractice case. No one could get an accurate read on his feelings about abortion.

  "Olga Olsen"…her real name and she looked it, sixty, white, probably beautiful in her younger days, now plump from a few too many beers along the road of life, outgoing pleasant personality, worked as a waitress in an upscale diner, divorced, lived by herself, visited regularly by three kids and a bunch of grand kids, had a booth at the local flea market where she sold earrings she made while watching television, expressed no feelings one way or the other about abortion.

  "Alberto Marino"…twenty-two, Hispanic, assistant manager at a drug store, single, high school graduate, Latino macho personality, grew up in South Houston and still lived with his parents, engaged to his high school girlfriend. He was Catholic, and Tod did his damnedest to get all the Catholics off the jury. At the end he had to leave Marino. At least he was young and would, hopefully, think for himself.

  "Catherine Tucker"…thirty-five, white, lived in Memorial, drove a Lexus, husband was a home builder, she sold upscale houses, traveled in some expensive circles, had two kids who appeared to be raised more by a Mexican housekeeper than their mother. Although she didn't express any opinions about abortion, Johnny Bob suspected she leaned to pro-choice. She wasn't a juror that he wanted.

  "Samuel Aft"…forty-two, white, lean, Marlboro Man look, worried Tod because he looked a lot like Bo Brady, non church-goer, worked at the Exxon plant in Baytown, bass boat in his driveway, wife drove a Durango, he drove an old clunke
r Chevy work truck, coached Little League team where his twelve-year old son played shortstop.

  "Alfred Totman"…sixty-three, black, retired City of Houston bookkeeper, two years of college, old school black man, smiled at everyone, "yes sir," "no, ma'am," tall, probably six feet, seven inches, now works part-time as a ticket taker at the Astros games during baseball season, does it so that after the third inning he can watch the game for free.

  "Glenn Ford"…forty-eight, white, economics professor at Rice, been kidded about his name since he was a teenager, "No, I'm not related to the movie star," round man with wire-rim glasses, wore a white short sleeve shirt and bow tie for voir dire, lives in Bellaire, ten minute drive from Rice, kids attend Bellaire High School. Tod figured he would likely be one of "his" jurors.

  "Mary Ann O'Donnell"…thirty-two, white, lab technician at St. Luke's Hospital in the medical center, married to a radiology technician, sharply dressed in blue blouse and gray pants, lives in upscale apartment complex close to the medical center, took a scuba diving vacation to Belize during the summer, attractive red head, drives mustang convertible. Both Johnny Bob and Tod thought that she might think she knows just a little too much medicine. Neither was sure who that would hurt or help.

  "Harry Kneeland"…fifty-five, white, manager of a Home Depot for ten years, before that worked in construction, belongs to an inexpensive country club where he golfs during the week since Home Depot occupied most of his weekends, non-church going Presbyterian, three grown kids, tan face, aging athlete's body, told Tod on voir dire that he had a twelve handicap, complained that he used to be a seven. Tod hoped he would be the jury foreman.

  "Anna May Marbley"…thirty-seven, black, welfare mother, three kids, already a grandmother, other residents of her tenement apartment included her mother and a nine month old grandchild. Tod and Johnny Bob both thought she would be a bench warmer, a juror who would have nothing to say but would just go along with the majority. They would later find out that they were both wrong.

  "Alvin Steinhorn"…first alternate, sixty-five, white, Jewish, bald, known in Houston for radio advertisements for his jewelry store, certainly didn't mind serving on the jury in such a high profile trial, secretly hoped that he would make the final twelve, smiled every time he saw a camera pointed in his direction.

  "Rebecca Dowell"…second alternate, twenty-two, white, attractive, blond secretary to an oil company executive, part-time student at Houston Community College, grew up in Victoria, a hundred miles south of Houston, moved when she graduated from high school, ran six miles in Memorial Park with three girlfriends at least four times a week. Johnny Bob didn't want her on the jury. As the second alternate, he gambled that she would never see the inside of the jury room during deliberations. Tod hoped she would make it. Surely, she was pro-choice.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand and take your oath," Judge O'Reilly requested.

  As they listened, several had thoughts similar to other ordinary men and women who served on juries. They were becoming governmental officials for a day or a week or a month, maybe longer. They literally held the fate of litigants in their hands, whether it was a murder trial, a business antitrust case, a whiplash fender-bender, or a national spectacle like the Brady trial. It was often the highest official calling a layperson would answer in his or her life. While some bitched, moaned and complained about being taken away from jobs and families, judges and trial lawyers would tell anyone that, once they took the oath and were seated in the jury box, they took their job seriously. Most did their best to listen to and watch the evidence, follow the court's instructions, and answer the questions presented to them in a manner that they considered honest and fair. More often than not, they reached a correct verdict.

  After she gave them the oath, Judge O'Reilly gave them a rare admonition for a civil trial. "Let me now caution you about the media and the public attention to this trial. You have been instructed that you are to base your verdict only on the evidence that is admitted before you. That's what you see and hear in this courtroom and nowhere else. I have never sequestered a civil jury before, but I have the authority to do so if I think it's necessary. I'm not going to do so now and you are going to be free to come and go and sleep in your own beds at night. The only way that I can allow that is if each of you promise me that you will not read a newspaper, a news magazine or watch TV news or listen to radio news during the trial. In fact, if there is some promo on another program leading into the ten o'clock news that mentions this trial, you must immediately switch stations."

  Several jurors nodded their understanding.

  "In the event that I find that any one of you has violated my orders, or if I conclude that the media is intruding upon our trial to the extent that it is jeopardizing the litigants' right to their day in court, I reserve the right to tell you to go home, pack your bag, and return here to be escorted to a hotel where you will stay for the duration of the trial. You are now all excused. We will reconvene at nine o'clock in the morning. I suggest that you be here at eight forty-five so that we may begin promptly. When you arrive, the bailiff will escort you to the jury room where you will remain each morning until I request your presence in the courtroom. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen."

  T. J. was holding court only a few yards down the street. Surrounded by reporters and facing TV cameras, he had microphones thrust in his face.

  "Reverend Luther, what's your assessment of the first day of trial?"

  "We are most pleased with how the jury selection went. We certainly have some very fine folks to hear this case. I'm quite certain that they will reach the right decision. After all, they are guided not only by the evidence, but also by the Lord who will be laying His hands on them and infusing them with the Holy Spirit. You might say that He is the thirteenth juror who will lead them."

  Another reporter asked, "Are you suggesting that God is somehow involved in this trial?"

  "It is not my suggestion, ma'am. It is simply a fact. His presence was there in the courtroom today as I am certain it will be every day of this trial. While this trial is about bringing justice to Lucy Baines Brady, it also has a more important purpose. With God's help, this trial will be a major victory in our crusade to save the lives of millions of God's children. Now, if you'll excuse me, my lawyers tell me we have work to do." T. J. turned to walk away when someone yelled.

  "Where'd you get the Stetson, Reverend? Is that something new for the trial?"

  T. J. turned and grinned at the cameras, "Matter of fact it is. My lawyer, Ms. Jackson, wore a tee shirt the other day that read, 'Never trust a man who doesn't wear boots and a cowboy hat.' While no one has ever doubted that I speak the truth, I figured that with all of you guys around for a few weeks, I better dress like a true Texan. Hadn't worn boots since my resurrection and I can tell you that they're a whole lot more comfortable now than when I wore them many years ago. See you all in the mornin'."

  As Johnny Bob watched the show from outside the crowd of reporters, he commented to Claudia, "Two things I notice. First, ol' T. J.'s damn good with the media. Second, the longer this trial goes, the more Texan his accent is going to become. Folks up in East Texas may even understand him before this thing is over."

  "What I like, Johnny Bob, is that if T. J.'s right, we've got the Lord on our side. Make's for a first class line-up, don't you think?"

  "You know me pretty well, by now, Claudia. I'll take all the help I can get. Just remember that old saying, something about, 'Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition.' I'll take the Lord on our side, but with Tod Duncan on the other side, you keep passing me the ammunition because Tod won't be fighting with a peashooter. He'll have a full arsenal of weapons, all loaded and pointed in our direction."

  As Johnny Bob spoke, Tod was at the other end of the block with Zeke Moyo at his side, facing more cameras and microphones. After Tod had praised the jury and the judge, he said, "Now, my client has an announcement."

  "I received a call from the Chair of
the Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology at Baylor College of Medicine today," Dr. Moyo began. "He advised that the selection process is completed, and upon conclusion of this trial, I will be invited to become a member of the faculty of that institution."

  "Dr. Moyo," a reporter interrupted, "is the appointment conditioned on your winning this lawsuit?"

  "Absolutely not, sir. I have gone through an arduous selection process and it is merely a coincidence that they made the decision today. As a matter of fact, it is my understanding that the chairman did not want to delay the selection announcement to avoid the appearance that it might have been influenced by the outcome of the trial."

  "Two questions. First, are you going to accept the appointment? Second, during this trial, what do we call you, doctor or professor?"

  "Of course, I will accept the appointment. As to what you call me, doctor and professor are both okay. Or, if you like, Zeke would also be just fine with me."

  CHAPTER 64

  That evening Johnny Bob and Claudia sat in his loft, debating the strategy of trial, particularly the order of their witnesses. "Johnny Bob, I've been thinking and I've decided that it's a mistake to put Lucy on first," Claudia said. "A major trial, national TV, that's no place to put any eighteen-year-old on the witness stand as the first witness. She needs to watch the process for a while. Besides, Joanna and Jessie can tell a very compelling story that should begin to get the jury on our side. Let's save her for later on in the day, or maybe the next day."

  Johnny Bob pondered the suggestion as he sipped on a scotch, only two per evening during trial. "Frankly, I liked leading off with Lucy. Even if she's nervous, no harm can be done. Doing it your way is just as good. I'll bow to your feminine intuition. Let's go with Joanna first, then Jessie. With this scenario, I think that I'll want you to take Jessie, too. That means that you'll have to be ready to go following opening statements. Let's put on Dr. McIntosh. Then, we'll put Lucy on center stage. After watching the others, I agree she'll be more comfortable with the process."