Jury duty? 'Just try it . . . you'll like it!'

The arrival of a jury summons strikes fear into the hearts of many, but truth be told, the scariest thing about jury duty is the jigsaw puzzles. There's a towering pile of them in the jury waiting room, right next to the restrooms, near a mountain of extra toilet paper. From a distance it's clear these are ancient, tattered relics, but only up close is their true horror apparent.

On a box depicting "Conway Castle, North Wales" someone has scrawled, "6 pieces missing." The picturesque cover of "San Juan Capistrano" is marred by a note reading, "11/97: Missing 2. One inside sky, one on edge near pond." And the "1,000 pieces" boasted by a fall apple scene has been scratched out and replaced with the number "955," written, with evident force, in ballpoint pen.

Haunting as tally marks carved into a prison wall, these missives from the past seem to warn potential jurors: "You will be here for a very long time."

Belinda Fernandez lives to quell these and other fears the Seattle citizenry has about jury duty. As jury coordinator at the downtown King County Superior Court office, she is likely the first person you'll interact with in the course of carrying out your civic duty. It's a wise move on the part of the courthouse, because as irritated as people may be about having their daily routines disrupted, Fernandez has a way of making you feel glad to be there.

"I smile and make a joke, relax them a little," she says, "I tell them it's only two days, plus you get an hour and a half lunch, and breaks in between." Indeed, when she puts it that way, it may sound a lot better than your regular job. (Not to mention the free bus passes.)

Fernandez, 52, has a cheerful manner and an alto voice that puts cranky citizens instantly at ease. Hers is not a saccharine sweetness. A youthful grandmother of three, she radiates warmth and laughs easily, and when she gives updates over the public-address system, always acknowledges the fact that you've been kept waiting. She's on your side. She feels your pain.

Greg Wheeler, Fernandez's supervisor at the King County Courthouse, says jurors comment daily on her pleasant demeanor. "It's so nice to hear folks, many of whom would rather not be here, offer up unsolicited praise for the way they've been treated and made to feel."

Help from Perry

She gets a little help from Perry Mason. After Fernandez explains the basics and collects the registration forms, a jury-orientation video plays on the four television screens in the waiting room. The short video serves as a refresher course on the justice system and features Raymond Burr, who played attorney Perry Mason on the popular TV show in the '50s and '60s, moving about an empty courtroom, explaining terms like voir dire.

His presence is oddly soothing, but Fernandez has mixed feelings about the starring role of Burr, who died in 1993. "I think we should update the video — get someone well-known around here," she says. "Don't get me wrong, I love Raymond Burr, but it's time to move on."

A Seattleite for the past 15 years, Fernandez previously worked at The Bon Marché, in men's fragrances. She applied for a part-time courthouse job on a whim but then decided she was "comfortable" at The Bon and didn't want to leave. Though she ignored repeated calls from the courthouse regarding her job application, her husband, who runs his own construction company, suspected it was something she would enjoy and set up the appointment for her.

Soon enough, Fernandez had found her true calling. After starting as a jury clerk in 1999, Fernandez took the role of interim jury coordinator in July 2003 and was promoted to full-time coordinator in November.

Making a confession from her Bon days, Fernandez admits, "When I was called to jury duty I didn't want to go. I got excused, but I really could've done it." She says this with some embarrassment, adding, "Now I understand it's really important." Since working in the jury room, Fernandez says, "I've learned to respect the justice system a lot more."

In fact, her commitment to the courthouse is fierce and was one of the factors contributing to her recent promotion. "It's an important job that the jurors do, and sometimes the surroundings and the idle time fail to convey that importance," says Wheeler. "Belinda never does. She treats every prospective juror with respect and kindness, even those that range from somewhat grumpy to openly hostile."

Although both Wheeler and Fernandez say the great majority of jurors are good-natured, a few ornery citizens make their displeasure known.

Creative excuses

And as you might guess, Fernandez is an expert on excuses. One woman insisted she couldn't leave her dogs alone during the day and asked if she could bring them along to the courthouse (the answer was no).

"People are afraid they'll get put on a long case, but that's unusual," Fernandez says, explaining that if you do get assigned to a case that will take more time than you are able to give, you can plead hardship and the judge will let you go.

The most intensive jury-selection process she's handled as jury coordinator was the Atif Rafay-Sebastian Burns trial — the high-profile murder case currently in progress. Apparently, people tend to respond to a jury summons more readily when they think the case is worthy of a "Law & Order" episode. "We had 348 jurors here," Fernandez recalls, "which is the most we've ever had show up — ever."

Never averse to taking her work home, Fernandez loves courtroom movies and television shows like "CSI."

"I read a lot of Ann Rule," she says, and "really gets into" the work of the former Seattle police officer turned crime writer.

But when it comes to her real-world civics lesson, Fernandez genuinely wants everybody to experience it. "When I'm on the phone with people doing their best to get out of jury duty, I know there has to be something I can say to change their minds." She notes that it's always possible to reschedule for another date. "I urge them, just try it one time — you'll like it!"

Dealing with a less than enthusiastic swath of humanity every day may not be everyone's ideal work scenario, but Fernandez says the jurors are her favorite part of the job. "I love it," she says, "I meet all different kinds of people. They make my day."

But what about those spooky jigsaw puzzles?

"I wish they'd give me the authority to throw them out and get new ones," Fernandez says, laughing. "They're so old. But the jurors still pull them out, and everybody gathers around. They make friends."

Looking over the jury waiting room, Fernandez smiles fondly. "People out there who never show up ... they don't know what they're missing."

Brangien Davis: brangiendavis@yahoo.com