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Show l Ten O'Clack Whistle 1 by David Fleisher The whole truth and nothing but the truth ... I held the summons for jury duty tightly in my hand as thirty -four other potential jurors filed into the small courtroom. We sat quietly on the clean, slick benches wanting for the judge to enter. A woman, who identified herself as the Jury Clerk, told us to fill out a personal fact sheet. This information about ourselves would later be given to the judge. Shortly after handing the Jury Clerk our fact sheets, the judge, dressed in typical garb (black robe), entered the courtroom, gave a brief glance at the potential jurors, and sat down. After scanning over the fact sheets, the judge said he wanted to know us a little better. Each potential juror was asked to rise, give his or her name, place of residence, occupation, marital status and number of children, if any. The judge listened closely as the potential jurors gave background information, jotting down notes from time to time. The lawyers for the plaintiff and the defendant also jotted down notes. The judge and the lawyers stared at each person. , 'Suddenly, a feeling of guilt swept over me. I couldn't figure out exactly why I felt guilty:, but I thought it had something to do with the overall atmosphere: the immaculate courtroom, the curious lawyers, the rather stern but pleasant judge, and the defendant who was charged with a serious crime, all of whom were waiting to .. hear what I had to say about myself. One young man got up, gave his name, address, occupation, said he wasn't married and to his knowledge, he had no children. The judge smiled and said, "thank ou." The next person was a homemaker; the person next to her was a policeman; the next person was employed by the U.S. Department of Agriculture. And so on and so on. It would be my turn soon. My guilt didn't subside, and the walls seemed to be closing in on me. "Why all this guilt?". I thought to myself. 1 suddenly remembered the words. "Do you swear to tell :he truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help v'ou God?" My past sins began to surface. I wondered if now was the proper time to admit that when I was twelve years old. I stole a hubcap off a car sitting in an empty parking lot. I was with friends at the time of the crime, but still, I was an accomplice. When it was finally my turn, I wanted to say, "My name is David Fleisher. I live in Park City. I am a journalist. I'm not married. I don't have any children. And when I was Twelve years old, I stole a hubcap. But it wasn't my fault. I was influenced by juvenile delinquents!" "Approach the bench, Mr. FIeisher,"the judge said. I walked slowly to the bench, my head hanging down, and looked up at the judge. "Did you or did you not steal that inncoent person's , hubcap when you were twelve years old?" the judge asked in a loud voice. "Yes, Your Honor, but there were extenuating circumstances," I replied. "Nevermind the extenuating circumstances," he said. "Just answer the question, did you gain possession of a hubcap that was not legally-yours?" "Yes, Your Honor." ' The judgelooked at the other potential jurors and said, "Well what do you think?" "Guilty!" someone yelled from the back of the toom. "Mr. Fleisher, you have heard the verdict of the jury. Do you have any final words to say before I pronounce punishment?" "Well, while we're in the neighborhood, I also stole someone's baseball bat when I was thirteen years old. But again, it wasn't my fault. Bad influences " The judgelooked out across the room and said, "Well, what do you think?" "Guilty, " someone yelled. "Do you have anything else to say, Mr. Fleisher' -" the judge asked. "Yes, Your Honor. I wonder if I could be excused from jury duty. I have to go to Phoenix this weekend." "No," I replied, "business, strictly business." The judge stared intently at me and said in a low voice, "You are hereby ordered to purchase one huhcan and one baseball bat while in Phoenix, return said objects to this next week, at which time you will aid and abet us in finding the legal owners. You are excused." As I walk up Main Street, I hear the Ten O'Clock Whistle. I t I t l I f l' r I t I T I f t t r-t r 1 .T r , . . i . . r , . . , |