Associated Press portrayal of 17-year-old 6-foot-3-inch Trayvon Martin — who was shot and killed by George Zimmerman in Florida, allegedly in self-defense — shows Martin as a child, not as he looked at the time of his death. Despite criticism, the photo was repeatedly run by AP in tandem with a police mugshot of Zimmerman, adversely affecting public reaction and likely influencing potential jurors in Zimmerman’s trial, causing the judge to caution the six women ultimately selected, to ignore press reports and photos depicting the two assailants.

We are even unhappy just reporting for the possi- bility of jury duty. It’s considered an unbearable burden to get saddled with a complicated trial that runs a week or more.

Even though relieved if court officials send us home without needing to serve, we still complain about wasting part of a day waiting around.

But imagine what it’s like if you were one of the six jurors on the high-profile George Zimmerman case in Sanford, Fla.

The pressure and strain of deciding guilt or innocence in the death of Trayvon Martin was only part of the task. After Zimmerman was found not guilty of second degree murder and manslaughter, the jurors have been absorbing nationwide criticism fueled by emotion and frustration over the seemingly senseless death of a 17-year-old kid.

Protestors and demonstrators alike have raised the question of racism’s influence on the verdict from the nearly all-white female jury. Trayvon Martin’s parents and family lawyers continue to hold news conferences and appear on television news-talk programs questioning the job the jury did.

Government officials, like U.S. Attorney General Eric Holder and even President Obama, have weighed in.

Debate on the trial and verdict shows no signs of letting up and prompted the President to comment Friday on the subject of race relations, an issue he has studiously avoided — until now.

Issues are being raised that overlook the fact the jurors were required to stick to the specific aspects of the law. And the only way a guilty verdict could legitimately have been issued would have been if the prosecution had built a case eliminating any reasonable doubt.

This, of course, is an extreme example of jury-duty pressure. The few times any of us actually have to sit on a jury and decide a case, it’s a lot more low-profile and generally over in a day or less.

Which raises the question again of why so many of us who grouse about work and being stuck in a routine moan and groan when the summons comes for jury duty?

Here’s a chance for a break in the monotony and the opportunity to experience something different that may prove to be very interesting. However, when that notice arrives, most of us try to postpone or get out of serving.

BIRTHDAY A FEW MONTHS AWAY

Recently one of my Baltimore neighbors was trying to figure out a way to postpone having to serve because her 65th birthday was only a few months away. She said you could get out of serving on a jury if you were 65 or older.

Maybe it’s a control issue. When we report for jury duty, we don’t know if it’s a one-hour commitment or will extend into a week. When sitting in court, we are under the supreme authority of the judge and allowed to speak or move around only at appropriate times.

I have never had to sit on a jury and hear a case. Several times living in Massachusetts, when I checked in the day before I was to report, I was told I wasn’t needed. A few other times I had to go in to court but was eventually sent home the same day because they didn’t need any more jurors.

The last time, a few years ago, I had to report to an old courthouse in Quincy. Entering the courthouse, you felt as if you were in an airport when the security guard made you empty your pockets and walk through an x-ray machine.

Like air travel, dress codes have changed. A few decades ago, a call to jury duty meant dressy attire. But the last time I went, all but a few of the participants were anything more than casually clothed.

A six-woman Florida jury acquitted George Zimmerman last week on a charge of murdering Trayvon Martin in February 2012. The jury accepted Zimmerman’s claim that he shot Martin in self-defense while Martin was bashing his head against a sidewalk.

“I just hope I get out of here in time to make my office’s Christmas  party,” one woman in the second row of the library waiting room remarked.

At 8:45 a.m., a uniformed court officer named Joe, marched in to explain the  proceedings. Joe turned out to be a very reasonable and flexible administrator. When he discovered one juror came in a day too early, he gave the man credit for the appearance instead of making him come back the next day.

APOLOGIZED FOR NOT HAVING FOOD SERVICE

Joe apologized to us for the fact the building didn’t have coffee or food service and promised he’d keep us informed of our status  for the day.

He returned a few minutes later and introduced “Judge Buckley,” a  short, kindly, grandfatherly-looking gentleman in a dark robe who resembled the late Warner Bros. movie character-actor Henry O’Neill.  The judge welcomed us and emphasized our obligation, if selected to serve, to weigh the facts, and how important a part of the system we had become just by being there.

After he left, we viewed a short movie reiterating our responsibilities. Then the long wait began.

Joe explained there would be a lot of traffic in the hallway with prosecutors, defense attorneys, witnesses, prisoners and defendants milling around in the halls.

“Don’t be alarmed by seeing prisoners in handcuffs and chains walking with one of the officers,” Joe said. “It’s if you see one without any officer, you should be concerned and let one of us know,” he quipped.

Every hour or so, Joe would return with an update.  At 11 a.m., he said all but two cases had been settled.

The morning dragged on. The room seemed to grow warmer.

HOPPED BY IN CUFFS AND CHAINS

At 11:15, a guy, looking to be around 18, hopped by in cuffs and chains, wearing a grin as if the whole spectacle was a big joke.

Earlier a handcuffed boy, around 13, was led away in tears.

Lawyers were all over the place in the hallway, huddling with clients.

We had been warned to not talk to anyone in the hall in case we ended up serving on their trial. But you couldn’t help trying to listen in to the conversations to break the monotony.

One lawyer, heading away from the courtroom, was yelling at his teenage client: “What’s wrong with you? What are you trying to do, showing the judge so much disrespect?”

If this was Judge Buckley, you could picture him shifting out of his grandfatherly demeanor and being tough, upholding the dignity of the court.

At noon, Joe returned to tell us we were down to one case.

“The defense lawyer wants a jury trial but the judge is still working out some things,” he said.

A GUY NEAR THE FRONT, WISECRACKED

After Joe left, a guy near the front wisecracked, “It figures, we’ve got to run into the next Perry Mason, insisting on trying his case.”

A woman in the back countered with, “I hope there is a trial.  I’ll take this over work any day. Wouldn’t it be great if we had to be sequestered?”

An annoyed  gentleman in the front row turned around and answered: “The sad part is, if there is a trial today, you are the type who will be the first person disqualified.”

Several others nodded in agreement.

Finally, a little before 1 p.m., Joe returned and shut the door.

“Well,” he started and paused, “this case will be tried but the judge felt since you’ve all been here since 8:30, it wouldn’t be fair to make you sit on this case.  So it’s  scheduled for Thursday and you are free to go.”

Michael Conrad, who died in 1983, played veteran police Sgt. Phil Esterhaus on the hit TV show “Hill Street Blues” which ran during the 1980s. Esterhaus famously cautioned his cops at the start of every show the first few seasons:  “Let’s be careful out there.”

But like TV’s Sgt. Phil Esterhaus used to say during the roll call on “Hill Street Blues,” he added, “Just one more thing: The judge wanted me to be sure you understand you didn’t waste the day just sitting here. The fact you were here put pressure on others to settle. You have performed your civic duty.”

More than one person heading out was heard to remark, “It’s great to be free, and work looks pretty good tomorrow.”

Leaving the building, there was a sense of relief but there was also a feeling of weariness, having spent half the day in the courthouse waiting to learn if we’d have to spend several days or a week under the pressure of determining someone’s fate.

If waiting around was so draining, it’s impossible to imagine what the six jurors in the Zimmerman trial had to endure determining such a high-profile case under the scrutiny of an entire nation.

One of the jurors, who appeared with Anderson Cooper on CNN, offered a little bit of insight into the strain on this group of ordinary citizens adhering to the law, trying to be fair and do the right thing.

And the only thanks they are getting for their honest effort is being forced to endure second-guessing and complaints from critics overwhelmed by emotion.

Small wonder most of us hate to be summoned for jury duty.
 
davidmaril@hermanmaril.com
 
“Inside Pitch” is a weekly opinion column written for Voice of Baltimore by David Maril.
 
EDITOR’S NOTE:

And if they don’t get picked, they get to watch movies in the Mitchell Courthouse jury waiting room for the rest of the day.
 
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