Like clockwork, every other year I get a summons for jury duty. I suspect, like most people, I have mixed feelings about the summons. On the one hand, I want to live up to my civic duty and show my support for what I believe is the finest judicial system in the world. On the other, I live in dread of what is typically a long, boring day cooped up at the county Government Center.

This year was my "on" year, and so Tuesday I armed myself with a good book and headed for the Hall of Justice with a resigned determination to get through the day. It began as a typical day in jury duty: standing in line, filling out paperwork and waiting.

Judge John Smiley started orientation by telling us that a jury trial is the "highest form of dispute resolution ever thought of." He also reminded us, because most of us had been called to jury duty before, that just our very presence was helping move along the machinery of justice. Apparently, lawyers, plaintiffs and defendants are more inclined to seek a resolution knowing that a jury of their peers is waiting just down the hall to hear their case. He said that only 5 percent of cases go to trial.

After orientation, I moved from the jury room to the cafeteria for some coffee and a quiet spot by a window to read my book. After about an hour of reading, I decided to take a stroll, but had barely gotten out the cafeteria door before I was summoned to the jury services window.

From there, I was sent to Courtroom 47 as part of a jury pool and began what would turn out to be a pretty good inside look at how the American judicial system works.

Courtroom 47 is Judge Edward Brodie's courtroom, and it is a criminal courtroom. The case involved a defendant accused of assault with intent to cause bodily harm, misdemeanor domestic battery and interfering with a police officer. In his easygoing, somewhat self-deprecating manner, Judge Brodie explained the charges to us and what would occur during the process of voir dire — the selecting of the 12 jurors who would hear the case.

The clerk called 12 people to the jury box, and the questioning of the prospective jurors by the defense attorney got under way just before noon. We recessed for lunch when the defense attorney concluded his questioning, with the prosecuting attorney taking over after the lunch break.

I'm still not quite sure what to make of what happened while we were waiting to re-enter the courtroom after lunch. We were supposed to return from lunch at 1:30 p.m. But 1:30 came and went with no signal from the bailiff. As we stood milling and waiting in the hallway, the defendant came down the hall carrying a baby in a carrier followed by a young woman, apparently the baby's mother. We all grew quiet as we watched the miniprocession go to the end of the hall and disappear around a corner. A few minutes later, the defendant returned empty-handed and entered the courtroom. Right after that, the bailiff invited us back into the courtroom.

Maybe it's the journalist in me, but I couldn't help but wonder about the timing of the defendant's return to the courtroom and the obviousness of him carrying the baby down the hall. It was certainly not lost on the other prospective jurors.

After lunch, the prosecuting attorney began her questioning. As a matter of professional courtesy, I couldn't help but admire both attorneys' ability to ask the same question in many different ways. Each had his own style, but the deputy district attorney was relentless.

It seemed to me voir dire was as much about trying to decipher the mind-set of prospective jurors as it was instructional about the duties and responsibilities required if they were chosen. The questioning, while obvious, such as, "Can you judge the case solely on the evidence presented?" laid out clearly what would be required of jurors.

I also was impressed by the respect shown to all prospective jurors by the judges and the lawyers. When entering or leaving the courtroom, the lawyers and defendant would stand and face the jurors in a sign of respect, not for the jurors themselves, but for the system.

What impressed me most, however, were the prospective jurors themselves. Whether they were selected or excused, each demonstrated during the questioning their abiding respect and commitment to the judicial system and a keen sense of responsibility to uphold the principles of American law. The feeling of patriotism in the room was palpable.

I was questioned and excused. I wouldn't begin to speculate as to why. Although I was a little disappointed, as I walked from the Hall of Justice to my car, I was sure of one thing. The accused young man would get a fair trial, and the jurors in that case would do their very best to reach an honest verdict.

It doesn't get any better than that.

— Joe R. Howry is editor of The Star. He can be reached by phone at 655-5801 or by e-mail at jhowry@VenturaCountyStar.com.