It may be time to start telling some stories from the trial where I served as a juror last year. Here was one of my favorite moments from one day’s testimony:

Prosecutor: Your honor, the government calls Robert Smith.

(A man walks up to the witness stand, turns to face the courtroom, and raises his right hand.)

Courtroom Manager: Do you swear the testimony you’re about to give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?

Witness: I do.

(beat)

Prosecutor: (confused) Umm… your honor?  I don’t think this is our witness.  I mean… that isn’t Robert Smith…

Judge: (to the witness) What’s your name?

Witness: (brightly) Jacob Mitchell!

Judge: You’re excused.

That was the first and last time we ever saw Mr. Mitchell. He hadn’t just entered out of sequence; he was never called as a witness for either side. One might suppose he had walked into the wrong courtroom, but all jurors have to check in with a bailiff to get into the building, and the bailiff that morning had specifically commented that we were the only sitting jury in the courthouse all day.

Perhaps Mr. Mitchell just woke up that morning and thought, “I think I’ll go tell the truth about some stuff today.”