Got jury duty? Then be a great American and don’t weasel out of it

It’s not often that anyone, let alone a law enforcement officer, tells me he’s proud to be an American because of me.

But it did happen, and on a Monday morning.

It all started when I reported to jury duty at the Columbus Consolidated Government Center, and so did hundreds of other people.

If you’ve ever been summoned to the jury pool, you know that Marsha Coram, the manager, runs a tight ship – and you would too if your job was to make people do something they really don’t want to do. At the same time, she’s warm and helpful, even if she is an unabashed University of Alabama fan.

She starts with the three reasons you can get dismissed from jury duty: You don’t live in Muscogee County, you’re a convicted felon, or you’re not a U.S. citizen.

Then the air goes out of the room.

In the past, this is when the manager took roll call, which took forever. But now everybody lines up at the counter so Coram and her assistant can scan the bar code on everyone’s summons. It’s quick and easy.

Then it’s hardship time.

People line up and try to weasel out of duty.

In my 16 years of living in Columbus, I’ve been called to jury duty maybe seven or eight times. Only once did I get in the hardship line, when I was teaching freshman composition part-time at Columbus State University, and I heard some other teachers requesting hardship.

It worked. I felt guilty. I’ve never done it again.

Here’s what I do now when I get summoned to jury duty and I have a conflict: I call Coram’s office and say I’ve got a family event or will be out of town on business or whatever, and I always get the same reply:

“Well, sir, when would you like to serve on jury duty?”

They find a week that suits me, and they’d do the same for you.

I’ll admit, though, that when I’m sitting in the jury pool waiting room watching dozens of people lining up to request hardship waivers, it’s human nature to want to join them, especially when they pump their fists, gather their jacket and novel, and sprint out of the room.

On Monday, after all the folks who’d been granted hardships had smugly left the premises, Lt. Brad Hicks with the Muscogee County Sheriff’s Office’s Bomb Squad Command strode into the room to give a briefing on how to go through the metal detectors in the Government Center.

Hint: If you recently went to the shooting range with your husband, check your purse to make sure your pistol isn’t still there.

“I dang sure don’t want to take your gun,” Hicks said.

In addition to guns, you also can’t take electronic cigarettes through the detectors. I did not know that. You also can’t take swords, hand grenades or surface-to-air missiles. I did know that.

Then Hicks asked Coram if everyone who’d evaded jury duty had left the room. She said they had.

So he addressed all of us who were left.

“Thank you for being here,” he said. “I’m blessed to be in the United States of America because of people like you.”

He said a lot of people liked to talk about how much they loved their country or what was wrong with the legal system but then found a way to avoid jury duty.

“You’re just as important to this system as I am,” he said.

Thanks, Lt. Hicks, for making us feel like we’d done something worthwhile on a Monday morning.

And then Coram announced the courts needed no jurors that week and we were done.

It was the best of both worlds: We felt the satisfaction of being productive citizens, all without doing a thing.

This story was originally published March 17, 2018 at 2:46 AM with the headline "Got jury duty? Then be a great American and don’t weasel out of it."