| Biographical Non-Fiction posted February 1, 2022 | Chapters: |
...145 146 -147- 148... 
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End of the jury trial and the verdict
A chapter in the book Remembering Yesterday
Caving Under Pressure
by BethShelby
| Background This is a continuance of the last Chapter. It is still active if you haven't read it. |
For new readers, who may not have read my author notes, this is written in a conversational way as I talk to my deceased husband. When I refer to someone just as "you" this means I am addressing my husband, Evan.
The court case on which I was serving continued until the end of April. The PHD professors were the last to testify in their own defense. One was self-assured and a bit cocky. The other seemed to be a nervous wreck. The defense produced witnesses testifying as to their character. One was a pastor, and after he made the professor out to be a saint, the prosecution lawyer asked him if he was familiar with Romans 3:23. He was, and he quoted it. “All have sinned and come short of the glory of God.”
This particular lawyer had most of the women swooning over him. He was very handsome and charming. They were willing to vote whichever way he said. As the professor left the stand, he looked toward the jury and said something. I didn’t understand him, but those who heard told us he said, “You all take care of me!" One of our female members, had invented several reasons to speak with the judge. This time, she informed him the professor was tampering with the jury. This prompted another day in which the judge found it necessary to call each of us in privately and ask if what he said when leaving the stand would affect our decision.
We were finally given our instructions and sent to deliberate. An extraverted and likable man was selected as our foreman. I was shocked when most of the group wanted to just take a vote and declare all five defendants guilty and send word to the judge that we had reached a verdict. The foreman thought the judge would expect us to deliberate, and we should wait until the following day to tell him we’d reached a verdict. Two of the women became very verbal and angry yelling, “There’s nothing to talk about. They’re all as guilty as sin.” One of the reasons given was because all of them had money and the lady felt they looked down on her.
That night, I went over my notes and decided to speak up the next day. I had concluded the two professors had been proven guilty, but it seemed the students were being put in a position they had not agreed to. They had turned in the work in which the professors had changed some of their wording and added material, but teachers help their students all the time. I questioned what I would have done in that situation. Teachers have an interest in seeing their students succeed. None of the students had ever caused any government contracts to go to the men, nor had they promised to, unless they were lying.
It was obvious the professors had tried to ingratiate themselves, so they might get work passed to them, but there was no evidence it had happened. The students had received their degrees by mail, so mail fraud was what carried penalties involving fines and imprisonment up to 20 years.
The following day, I spoke and read from my notes. It turned out I was the only one who had taken notes. One of the men said he was impressed that I’d paid attention, and what I brought out deserved more deliberation. A couple of people now seemed uncertain, but the others were saying even if they aren’t guilty, we need to send a message. At that point, we did deliberate. Messages were sent to the judge, several times, saying we were at an impasse and couldn’t reach a verdict. The judge insisted that we keep deliberating.
At one point, I made a terrible mistake by pulling a newspaper clipping. It had nothing to do with our case, but it supported a point I was trying to make. The article was from an old newspaper, but the lady, who liked audiences with the judge, went ballistic. She said I had violated the rules. She asked permission to see the judge again.
I was called in for a conference. All the lawyers and the judge were there. They talked of taking me from the jury and putting in an alternate. When I explained the clipping had nothing to do with the trial, they decided I should stay in. Somehow reporters got word of the incident and it made the newspaper and other media reports. I was humiliated, even though they weren’t allowed to use my name in the news. I wasn’t sleeping at night and during deliberations, I had one of my heart tachycardia attacks, and the whole room had to take a break, while I was taken somewhere to lie down.
By the following day, I felt totally defeated. Everyone was angry with me, and I was afraid I was going to continue to have heart spells and would have to be excused. All of the alternates said they would vote guilty. How could eleven jurors and four alternates all be wrong. I wasn’t sure the apparent unconcern of the other jury members wasn’t affecting my judgement. I realized nothing I could say would make a difference. If I was replaced, the verdict would be guilty. The judge wasn’t going to allow a mistrial. The case had already been tried once in another venue.
The group agreed to vote not guilty on a couple of the charges, in which some agreed with my points. They would also vote not guilty for the man dying of cancer, because his case hadn’t been proven. In exchange, I would vote guilty, so the taxpayers wouldn’t have to support another retrial. I felt very uncomfortable when they polled us individually, and I had to say I agreed with the verdict.
After the trial ended, one of the ladies told me she’d talked to her neighbor and told him my points. He told her if he’d been on the jury, he would have hung it up until next Christmas. To this day, I’m not proud that I gave in. I don’t really like to think about it. Maybe there was a deal worked out between the students and the professors. I hoped justice had been served, but I wasn’t convinced.
My family needed me. I’d been unavailable too long. You were busy with your garden. I’d neglected you and just about everything else. Don needed my assistance in writing resumes. I had a class reunion coming up. I hadn’t been checking on my parents the way I needed to. But I had crossed one thing off my bucket list, and that was to serve on a jury. I’m pretty sure they had permanently retired my name, and I would never be called again.
Connie’s boyfriend, Charlie, was making regular trips to Chattanooga, and he tried to find someone in the area to hire him as an EMT. He was disappointed when he learned in order to get a job, he would have to take more classes. He decided he would go back to school and become a nurse. Nursing would pay better. Connie was very anxious for him to move to the area.
We were about to enter the month of May. I had no way of knowing what problems would be on the horizon for our family before the end of June. I needed to put thoughts of the trial behind me and try to enjoy the short interval before the next family crisis arose.
This Is Us:
Evan is 66 and a retired drafting supervisor from Chevron Oil.
Beth is 57 and has had a variety of jobs. She is presently working temporary jobs.
Carol is 32, recently divorced, and a nurse, working at a hospital in Chattanooga and living in an apartment.
Don is a twin. He is 31, a recent graduate of Life Chiropractic College
Christi is Don’s twin. She is working as a receptionist at a chemical company and doing massages on the side.
Kimberly s Don’s wife. She is a nurse working in Atlanta. She gave birth to their first child in October '94,
Lauren Elizabeth Jane Shelby is Don and Kimberly's new baby (5 mos.)
Connie is our youngest daughter. She is twenty-one. She and a junior in college.
Charlie is Connie's boyfriend who lives in South Mississippi.
The court case on which I was serving continued until the end of April. The PHD professors were the last to testify in their own defense. One was self-assured and a bit cocky. The other seemed to be a nervous wreck. The defense produced witnesses testifying as to their character. One was a pastor, and after he made the professor out to be a saint, the prosecution lawyer asked him if he was familiar with Romans 3:23. He was, and he quoted it. “All have sinned and come short of the glory of God.”
This particular lawyer had most of the women swooning over him. He was very handsome and charming. They were willing to vote whichever way he said. As the professor left the stand, he looked toward the jury and said something. I didn’t understand him, but those who heard told us he said, “You all take care of me!" One of our female members, had invented several reasons to speak with the judge. This time, she informed him the professor was tampering with the jury. This prompted another day in which the judge found it necessary to call each of us in privately and ask if what he said when leaving the stand would affect our decision.
We were finally given our instructions and sent to deliberate. An extraverted and likable man was selected as our foreman. I was shocked when most of the group wanted to just take a vote and declare all five defendants guilty and send word to the judge that we had reached a verdict. The foreman thought the judge would expect us to deliberate, and we should wait until the following day to tell him we’d reached a verdict. Two of the women became very verbal and angry yelling, “There’s nothing to talk about. They’re all as guilty as sin.” One of the reasons given was because all of them had money and the lady felt they looked down on her.
That night, I went over my notes and decided to speak up the next day. I had concluded the two professors had been proven guilty, but it seemed the students were being put in a position they had not agreed to. They had turned in the work in which the professors had changed some of their wording and added material, but teachers help their students all the time. I questioned what I would have done in that situation. Teachers have an interest in seeing their students succeed. None of the students had ever caused any government contracts to go to the men, nor had they promised to, unless they were lying.
It was obvious the professors had tried to ingratiate themselves, so they might get work passed to them, but there was no evidence it had happened. The students had received their degrees by mail, so mail fraud was what carried penalties involving fines and imprisonment up to 20 years.
The following day, I spoke and read from my notes. It turned out I was the only one who had taken notes. One of the men said he was impressed that I’d paid attention, and what I brought out deserved more deliberation. A couple of people now seemed uncertain, but the others were saying even if they aren’t guilty, we need to send a message. At that point, we did deliberate. Messages were sent to the judge, several times, saying we were at an impasse and couldn’t reach a verdict. The judge insisted that we keep deliberating.
At one point, I made a terrible mistake by pulling a newspaper clipping. It had nothing to do with our case, but it supported a point I was trying to make. The article was from an old newspaper, but the lady, who liked audiences with the judge, went ballistic. She said I had violated the rules. She asked permission to see the judge again.
I was called in for a conference. All the lawyers and the judge were there. They talked of taking me from the jury and putting in an alternate. When I explained the clipping had nothing to do with the trial, they decided I should stay in. Somehow reporters got word of the incident and it made the newspaper and other media reports. I was humiliated, even though they weren’t allowed to use my name in the news. I wasn’t sleeping at night and during deliberations, I had one of my heart tachycardia attacks, and the whole room had to take a break, while I was taken somewhere to lie down.
By the following day, I felt totally defeated. Everyone was angry with me, and I was afraid I was going to continue to have heart spells and would have to be excused. All of the alternates said they would vote guilty. How could eleven jurors and four alternates all be wrong. I wasn’t sure the apparent unconcern of the other jury members wasn’t affecting my judgement. I realized nothing I could say would make a difference. If I was replaced, the verdict would be guilty. The judge wasn’t going to allow a mistrial. The case had already been tried once in another venue.
The group agreed to vote not guilty on a couple of the charges, in which some agreed with my points. They would also vote not guilty for the man dying of cancer, because his case hadn’t been proven. In exchange, I would vote guilty, so the taxpayers wouldn’t have to support another retrial. I felt very uncomfortable when they polled us individually, and I had to say I agreed with the verdict.
After the trial ended, one of the ladies told me she’d talked to her neighbor and told him my points. He told her if he’d been on the jury, he would have hung it up until next Christmas. To this day, I’m not proud that I gave in. I don’t really like to think about it. Maybe there was a deal worked out between the students and the professors. I hoped justice had been served, but I wasn’t convinced.
My family needed me. I’d been unavailable too long. You were busy with your garden. I’d neglected you and just about everything else. Don needed my assistance in writing resumes. I had a class reunion coming up. I hadn’t been checking on my parents the way I needed to. But I had crossed one thing off my bucket list, and that was to serve on a jury. I’m pretty sure they had permanently retired my name, and I would never be called again.
Connie’s boyfriend, Charlie, was making regular trips to Chattanooga, and he tried to find someone in the area to hire him as an EMT. He was disappointed when he learned in order to get a job, he would have to take more classes. He decided he would go back to school and become a nurse. Nursing would pay better. Connie was very anxious for him to move to the area.
We were about to enter the month of May. I had no way of knowing what problems would be on the horizon for our family before the end of June. I needed to put thoughts of the trial behind me and try to enjoy the short interval before the next family crisis arose.
This Is Us:
Evan is 66 and a retired drafting supervisor from Chevron Oil.
Beth is 57 and has had a variety of jobs. She is presently working temporary jobs.
Carol is 32, recently divorced, and a nurse, working at a hospital in Chattanooga and living in an apartment.
Don is a twin. He is 31, a recent graduate of Life Chiropractic College
Christi is Don’s twin. She is working as a receptionist at a chemical company and doing massages on the side.
Kimberly s Don’s wife. She is a nurse working in Atlanta. She gave birth to their first child in October '94,
Lauren Elizabeth Jane Shelby is Don and Kimberly's new baby (5 mos.)
Connie is our youngest daughter. She is twenty-one. She and a junior in college.
Charlie is Connie's boyfriend who lives in South Mississippi.
I'm continuing to recall memories of life with my deceased husband, Evan, as if I am talking aloud to him. I'm doing this because I want my children to know us as we knew each other and not just as their parents.
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