Aunt-icipating Jury Duty

As a prosecutor, the number one question I get asked isn't about crime, justice, or courtroom drama—it's this: "How do I get out of jury duty?"The second-most common question? "How do I get called for jury duty?"Funny how that works.First things first—I have no control over whether you're summoned. In Kansas, a computer randomly selects jurors from a list provided by the Kansas DMV. There's no secret handshake, no hidden loophole, no magical words to escape or guarantee selection.Second, you should want to be on jury duty. Next to voting, it's one of your most important civic responsibilities!If you're unfamiliar with the jury process, Jury duty ensures fairness by letting ordinary citizens—not just judges—decide legal cases. To eliminate bias, jurors are randomly selected from all walks of life.If you're over 18, competent, can read and speak English, live in the county where the case is, and haven't had a felony conviction in the past ten years, you're eligible. Even elected officials and my own relatives have told me they didn't think they should have to serve —but they do.Which brings us to my own aunt.Some people swear they have foolproof ways to dodge jury duty. Some are legitimate—financial hardship, health issues. Others? Not so much. I heard of one person wearing a prison jumpsuit to court.But the most common argument I hear someone make to get out of jury duty- is they know me.That will not work! How do I know? Because I once had my own aunt on my jury panel.If you've never met my aunt, let me paint a picture: She's strong-willed, razor-sharp, and has opinions as loud as they are abundant. When I saw her sitting there among the potential jurors, I knew I was in for an interesting day.Before jurors are selected for trial, attorneys go through a process called voir dire—basically, we question potential jurors to weed out biases or conflicts of interest.As I went through my usual checklist, I asked if anyone knew me. Naturally, my aunt raised her hand. Bracing myself, I asked her how she knew me.Without hesitation, she announced to the jury, "I'm his aunt! But don't think that means I won't make him do his job!"The room chuckled. I did not.I asked, "Can you be fair and impartial, even though I'm your nephew?"She paused dramatically, as if weighing the fate of the universe. Then, finally: "I most certainly can."With that answer, I felt our connection had become immaterial – I thought wrong.As questioning continued, my aunt shared opinions on everything—state laws, city ordinances, the type of evidence that should be required in cases. She even speculated on why witnesses might lie.Then, the defense attorney took things in a very personal direction.Defense: "Have you ever known your nephew to lie?"I objected—not just because it was improper, but because this trial had nothing to do with me.Shockingly, the judge overruled me.My aunt turned, looked at the attorney, and casually responded, "I don't know him to lie."I sighed in relief.But the defense attorney wasn't done.Defense: "Would that mean you'd believe him more?"Aunt: "He's not the one on trial, is he?"She locked eyes with the attorney like a seasoned poker player.Aunt (slowly, deliberately): "I'll have to listen to the evidence."Ladies and gentlemen, my aunt.Just when I thought things couldn't get more bizarre, the defense attorney asked, "Has your nephew ever gotten into trouble?"Oh no.I've known this woman my whole life. There was no telling what she might say.I objected.Overruled. Again!And then—it happened.My aunt told the jury about the time I was five years old and refused to eat the 'green stuff' in scrambled eggs.Instead of taking a bite, I ran and hid. She tried everything to coax me out, but all she heard were my distant, disgusted shouts of "Yuk!"The attorney, clearly unimpressed, asked, "That's the worst thing you've got on him?"I objected once more, but my aunt wasn't done."Yeah, he's always been a good kid."And just like that—the defense attorney threw up his hands and the interrogation ended.I could breathe again.In the end, I walked away from that experience with three important lessons. First, never assume you're off the hook for jury duty—not even if you're family. Second, no matter how random jury selection may seem, jurors—like family—will always keep you on your toes. And third, jurors are like a box of chocolates—you never know what you're going to get.So, next time you get summoned to jury duty-auntie up and go.Disclaimer: The content of this column is for informational purposes only and does not constitute legal advice.— Todd Thompson is the Leavenworth County Attorney.