Commentary: Because grand jury proceedings are confidential, this column has limits.
When I got called, I guessed they'd throw me out for being a lawyer, a columnist, and an oddball. But I went.
Serving each Thursday for three months was uninviting, but seemed a civic duty. The first day, I sat with scores of others, watching some folks try to get out of serving. The chosen twelve went into a room. Then a lady came out to ask for a volunteer to replace someone. I volunteered. The other eleven made me foreperson. Nothing personal. They'd just agreed to lay that on the new guy.
Grand juries decide whether or not to indict people charged with crimes. An indictment means the case continues toward a possible trial. Grand jurors merely decide whether it's “more likely than not” that the prospective defendant has committed the crime(s) charged. Not whether searches or arrests were legal or the cops entrapped someone. Not whether someone's guilty “beyond a reasonable doubt.” It takes eight affirmative votes to indict.
Proceedings are secret because everyone's innocent until proven guilty. There's no need to tarnish reputations of people investigated but not indicted. Also witnesses deserve to be sure their testimony won't be reported.
We started by 8:30 and worked till late afternoon, even 5:30 once.
Each morning we got a list of 20-30 cases, identifying the person charged, the alleged crimes, and the testifying officer. If any of us knew the officer, victim, or accused, we were asked whether or not the relationship would affect our objectivity. The crimes ranged from car burglaries to murder, but were heavy on drug cases (mostly meth), domestic violence, and child abuse.
For each case, Assistant D.A. Heather Chavez would go on record and read the applicable instructions for the count(s) charged. If we had no questions, she brought in the law-enforcement officer. After I swore him or her in, s/he answered Heather's questions. Hearsay was allowed, so we heard everything through the one officer. We listened for the required elements of each crime. When Heather finished, we could ask questions, and often did.
Then Heather, the witness, and the court reporter left, so we could deliberate. Privately. We couldn't tell even Heather about our deliberations, beyond the result. Sometimes “deliberating” was just me asking if anyone had a question or observation, then taking a vote by show of hands on each count. Sometimes we had extended discussions. Sometimes we called Heather or the officer back in to answer a further question. If there were eight affirmative votes, I'd sign the indictment and call Heather back in.
Defense attorneys complain that grand juries are so strongly influenced by the district attorney that they would indict a ham sandwich. The first day, we declined to indict someone because the victim's account didn't seem credible, even secondhand.
Most cases were straightforward. Sometimes I foresaw real issues for trial, but not for the grand jury. Occasionally we declined to indict. Sometimes we indicted on a lesser charge, or on just some of the counts. Sometimes we added or strengthened a count because we thought the testimony warranted it.
Our varied group enjoyed working together. We were forced to take a glimpse into some very unpleasant lives being lived among us; but legal problems, which are basically human problems, can be interesting. Without commenting on whether grand juries are good or bad, I can say people I met took it seriously.
We had a pot-luck the final session. I asked how many, if we were asked to serve three more months, would agree? Nearly everyone raised a hand.
Peter Goodman is a local writer, photographer, and sometime lawyer. He initially moved to Las Cruces in 1969, holds two degrees from NMSU, and moved back here in 2011 with his wonderful wife. This is his most recent Sunday column in the Las Cruces Sun-News. His blog Views from Soledad Canyon contains further information on this subject, as well as other comments and photographs, and past newspaper columns.