A jury call that was too close for comfort

My one experience with Dallas federal judge Barefoot Sanders, who died yesterday, came when I received a jury summons to serve on a federal grand jury some 25 years ago. I knew nothing about federal grand juries but when I arrived at the appointed time and place and heard Judge Sanders explain the process to all of us, I knew I didn't want to be serving on one.

First of all, we gathered in this auditorium in the federal building and the roll was called. It was easy to see it was alphabetical. Then we were given the opportunity for a quick break, after which we re-assembled and the roll was called again. Then Judge Sanders appeared and explained what this jury duty was all about: A federal grand jury consisted of 24 persons, at least 18 of whom met once a month for a week, three days in Dallas and two in Fort Worth. You served on the jury for 18 months. That meant, if you were selected, for the next year and a half you were committed to spending one week of every month away from your primary place of employment. Not only that, grand juries didn't do anything but indict folks and federal grand juries didn't get to hear juicy, headline grabbing criminal events, but mostly white-color-type crimes. Of course there could be the occasional racketeering charges that came before this body, but mostly it was pretty boring stuff.

After Judge Sanders explained all this he asked if there were any police officers, fire fighters or teachers in the crowd. Approximately a half-dozen individuals raised their hands. He told those individuals they were dismissed. He then asked if there was anyone else in the room who felt they had legitimate reasons for not being able to serve on the grand jury. I racked my brain trying to come up with one, but I couldn't. About a dozen did, however, and they made a beeline to the bench to whisper their objections to the judge. He apparently rejected every single one of them, because all 12 returned to their seats in the auditorium. Then we got another break.

When we returned, the roll was called again and by this time I had learned the names of the three or four people who immediately preceded mine so I would know to be alert at about the time my name would be called. Then Judge Sanders returned and announced he was going to name the people who would serve on the grand jury. Wait, I thought! No questioning of prospective jurors? No determining if they had pre-conceived biases of any sort? Nothing to determine if they could even read or write? Nope. What's more, he just started reading off the roll list again. My heart was pounding as each name was read. Mentally, I tried to calculate if there were more than 24 names before mine. But, dammit, I couldn't remember. Then came one of the names I remembered. It started with a N. Then came another. My breathing was heavier. Then, he stopped, two names before mine.

"Those are the members of this session of the federal grand jury," Judge Sanders said.

It took a few moments for my breathing to return to normal, for my body to stop shaking. But, when I recovered, I gathered the reading material I had brought with me to pass the idle time and quickly left the auditorium.

I was never in the same room with the legendary judge again.