The Silken Tent My Letter to the World September, 1999

David Guterson's novel Snow Falling on Cedars tells the story of a murder trial which takes place on an island in Puget Sound during a snowstorm. The snow, which E. E. Cummings has written "doesn't give a soft white damn whom it touches," is used as a controlling metaphor throughout the book, symbolizing isolation, silencing, the blurring of distinctions, and the disguising of truth.

It was the rain brought by Hurricane Floyd that would provide the atmospheric backdrop for the indecent assault trial I was about to hear as a juror. It began as a soft drizzle during my morning drive to the courthouse and intensified during the voir dire. By the time I was seated in the jury box it was falling steadily. I could see it through the tall windows directly behind the defense table, a constant torrent of droplets falling so fast they clung together and appeared to be solids rather than a liquid.

By next morning the wind had picked up and it nearly carried away my umbrella as I walked the half block along the river from the parking garage to the side door of the courthouse. (For security reasons, the plaza on the river side that leads to the impressive front doors and the handsome marble lobby can no longer be used.) The rain had forced the several dozen smokers who are always milling about on the side plaza to huddle in the wide doorways. I had to hold my breath and keep asking people to move so that I could arrive in the jury assembly room by 8:45.

The jury is always the last to enter a courtroom. In our case, we were led down a narrow stairway, single file, with a tipstaff at the head of the procession and one at the end. In the matter of "Tammy" vs. "Larry," things were, remarkably, beginning on time, and the bells of Market Square Presbyterian Church were just commencing their morning hymn as we made our way to our seats. The court crier waited out the last bars of the Hyfrydol tune and the tolling of 9:00 before calling matters to order.

In her opening statement, the assistant district attorney ("Ms. Orsini") made it clear that we were about to hear a story of things that had happened to a young woman because she had used very poor judgment in choosing her activities on a particular Sunday night in June a year before. Although she was 18 and considered responsible for herself, so too was the defendant an adult (41 at the time of the incident) and responsible for his own actions. Placing herself in a dangerous situation does not mean she deserved to be assaulted, as she alleged happened that night, and thus the perpetrator should not be held blameless. Ms. Orsini asked us to observe Tammy closely as she testified, to watch her body language, hear her voice, scrutinize her face. We would, she promised, be seeing a young woman who was sincere in her testimony, who could not be making up the story she would tell.

The defense attorney ("Mr. Weber") also made an opening statement. He was tall and distinguished looking, not unlike Senator Bill Bradley, and throughout the trial we would see him tower over the petite Ms. Orsini when they approached the bench for a sidebar and bend low so that he could hear her. In his statement, he reminded us that the burden of proof rests with the state, that the defense does not have to prove that the alleged incident did not take place. Nevertheless, he said, he would produce evidence and witnesses to prove that Tammy's story was not a distortion of facts, but a fabrication, since she had not even set foot on the defendant's property on the night in question.

Tammy herself was the first to be called to testify. Tall, athletic, and attractive, she let her long dark hair hang loose. It fell just slightly past her shoulders, blending into the fabric of the black cotton sweater she wore over a black and tan figured skirt. A gold cross on a thin chain hung from her neck, and she clutched a tissue in her left hand. When she spoke her voice was so soft another juror and I had to ask the judge to have her speak up, even though I was seated directly beside the witness chair.

She told us that she was now 20 years old and a student at the local community college pursuing a degree in business management. She lived in a small town up the river with her father, her two-year-old son, and her stepmother, and had lived there all her life. Her mother lived nearby. On the night in question, she had concluded her shift as a lifeguard at the community pool and had stopped by the gas station/convenience store which was owned by Larry. It was then nearly 9:00.

Up until four months before the incident, she had been in a relationship with "Michael," a young man who worked part time for Larry. As Michael's girlfriend, she had become part of the crowd of young people who hung out at the store. She attended gatherings at Larry's house, formed a friendship with Larry's young son and Larry's wife, and would stop by there or at the store often, even when she was not accompanied by Michael.

When Tammy stopped by the store that night, she saw a vehicle belonging to Michael's brother, and inquired about his and Michael's whereabouts. They had gone somewhere else, and so were not among the several members of the usual crowd who were then in the store. She says that Larry asked her to step into a less public area, behind a rack full of chips and other snacks and not out at the front counter. There he sat on the coffee counter and pinned her against the rack with his legs.

He put his hands up under her tank top and began to snap her bra straps. He told her he knew she wanted to get back with Michael. He had information suggesting that Michael too wanted to resume their relationship, and he would tell her all about it if she would come out to his house later that night. She said she tried to persuade him to tell her right then, but he wouldn't. The horseplay with her tank top and her bra strap, which she said was common, continued. She began to feel uncomfortable with it when he unhooked the strap and told the others present to get ready for a show. It was then that Michael and his new girlfriend entered the store, so Tammy decided that she would take Larry up on his offer, and go to his house to get the information he said he had.

It was nearly 10:00 when she arrived at Larry's house. She parked her car in front of the three-bay garage, and Larry let her in through the door that led to a breezeway between the house and the enclosed area where the pool was. They went out to the pool, where they sat at a picnic table and discussed Tammy's relationship with Michael. Part of the conversation centered on the particular sexual activities Tammy and Michael enjoyed. Tammy said she was wearing a pair of denim cutoffs, a tank top, and a button-front shirt over her bikini. During the conversation, Larry removed the shirt and the tank top, although Tammy does not remember how this action was accomplished.

During this testimony, Tammy constantly pulled at her left arm with her right hand, so that before long a red welt was beginning to show on her forearm near her elbow. The defendant watched her steadily, although she kept her gaze fixed on the prosecutor and, presumably, her parents and stepmother, who were sitting in the first row of the gallery. Her voice had become steadier and sounded confident, although it was still so soft I had to lean in and concentrate on her face while she talked. I knew that the defense attorney was observing the jury members, and I wondered what he made of my body language.

After the conversation, Tammy said that Larry suggested a swim. She'd forgotten a towel, so Larry went inside the house to get her one. She removed her shorts and entered the water. When Larry returned to the pool with the towel, Tammy says he was naked. He got into the water, positioned himself in front of her, and began trying to remove her bathing suit. He pinned her against the wall of the pool and tried to kiss her. He put his hands on her breasts and between her legs. He said he wanted some of the particular activities they had discussed earlier. She rebuffed him, and struggled with him briefly. She did not, however, cry out, afraid of the embarrassment the scene would cause to Larry's wife and son, who she presumed were inside the house.

Finally, Larry let her go. She grabbed her clothes, put them on, ran to her car, and drove away. By this time it was 11:15, a fact she remembers from looking at the car's clock. She called Michael on her cell phone. She tearfully told him that she was upset about something that had just happened and needed to talk to him. He'd been asleep and was reluctant to dress and come out to meet her, and was still trying to persuade her to tell him the problem over the phone when she pulled up in his driveway.

After hearing her story, Michael, too, was upset. He and Tammy roused his brother, and also called another friend, who came right over. The young men wanted to take matters into their own hands and go over to Larry's for a confrontation, but Tammy argued against that. At some point Michael's parents awakened (it was by now about 1:15), and urged Tammy to call her parents and the police. (Upon hearing this, my first thought was, Well finally! Some people with good sense!!)

Tammy and Michael drove to her mother's house, and it was her mother who called the police, setting in motion the process which had brought all of us to the county courthouse fifteen months later.

(When I began this series of reports on my jury duty, I expected to devote three pieces to it: one for the first day, one for the drug trial, and one for the assault trial. I did not realize how much the assault trial had affected me, how the writing of it would help me with the process of sorting out my feelings, and how much detail I would find it necessary to include.
    I will continue to post this in pieces, because 1200 words -- the average length so far -- is a lot to download and a lot to read in one session, especially off a computer screen. I thank those who have sent notes encouraging me to continue. This will probably take four or five more 1200-1500 word pieces. So be it. I can't stop now.)