Here is the full News article from Santa Maria Times posted before by ForeverMJLover
As juror number 240 stood to leave the courtroom, Michael Jackson threw anxious looks at his attorney and his jury consultant.
Then the 46-year-old celebrity defendant put his head in his hands.
Santa Barbara County Deputy District Attorney Ron Zonen had thanked the 51-year-old black woman for her time and asked that she be excused from the pool of potential jurors in Jackson's child-molestation case.
Lead defense attorney Thomas Mesereau Jr. stood and objected but it was too late.
The black woman was gone.
Jackson hissed an inaudible one-word response.
The woman had given him hope.
And she had given the world a brief look at the life of a black person in a region where people like her and Jackson live as minorities.
"I am a black child that grew up in Santa Barbara, California," she had earlier told Zonen. "I was always the first."
By that, she likely meant she was the first black to do this or the first black to do that in the county where she has lived most of her life.
The woman told the court Wednesday that she worked as a nurse for the state Department of Corrections for 14 years. But she can't nurse anymore due to an injury.
So now she's studying drug and alcohol treatment so she can continue to help people.
"Trying to get answers to correct the wrongs of our society," she said.
As far as the prison is concerned, she said, "We haven't been able to rehabilitate anyone."
Goodness knows she's tried.
Her brother had been a drug addict and she did her best to help him. But "so many doors were shut in his face" that her help didn't really help at all.
"Now he's in jail for quite some time," she said.
Jail isn't even punishment.
"We take better care of them in jail than we do on the street," she said.
Still, the black woman trusts in the system.
"It's the only system we have," she said.
But that doesn't mean she doesn't see problems with the system.
Juror number 240 told Zonen that her husband had left the county sheriff's office after "25 years of perfect service." He was "terminated" she said, after an inmate accused him of sleeping on the job.
Although he got his job back, he no longer felt that he belonged.
And, although she didn't identify her husband as a black man, his race seemed clear.
"Santa Barbara County to me has always been a good ol' boys joint," she said, referring to the county prison where her husband worked.
The "prejudices" and "racial games" that were played there weren't played on the state level where she worked, she said.
There are so few blacks in high county positions, she said.
"Tokens," she called them.
"Look around," she said, referring to the courtroom.
Jackson sat enthralled at the defense table.
"Woo," he said to no one in particular.
The black woman talked about how prison officials had treated her husband.
"He was always the one overlooked for promotions," she said.
Jackson nodded his vigorous agreement.
When the woman berated network television consultant and former county Sheriff Jim Thomas for publicly criticizing Jackson, Jackson seemed absolutely beside himself with excitement.
The press must have been tipped about the Neverland search to get there as quickly as they did, she said.
"Exactly," Jackson said loud enough to be heard.
"I don't know if the man is guilty or innocent because I haven't seen yea or nay," she said.
But how can Jackson receive a fair trial, she asked.
"Just look around us," she said.
A "jury of his peers" would include more "people of color" and of "mixed diversity."
"How diverse does this jury look to you?" she asked.
"Have some representation up here," she said. "And it doesn't have to be me.
But she wasn't through.
Police officers who have pulled her over for speeding with their guns drawn only backed off after seeing her prison work uniform, she said.
Jackson's head went up and down in spirited agreement.
"I've had this happen to me my whole life, but so what?" she said.
"I think I've opened my mouth enough."
Jackson looked at his jury consultant.
"Wow," he said.
* Steve Corbett's column appears Tuesday,
Thursday and Sunday. He can be reached at
739-2215 or e-mailed at scorbett@pulitzer.net. Read Corbett online at www.santamariatimes.com.
Feb. 24, 2005
Santa Maria Times
http://www.santamariatimes.com/articles/20...raffic/7940.txt
As juror number 240 stood to leave the courtroom, Michael Jackson threw anxious looks at his attorney and his jury consultant.
Then the 46-year-old celebrity defendant put his head in his hands.
Santa Barbara County Deputy District Attorney Ron Zonen had thanked the 51-year-old black woman for her time and asked that she be excused from the pool of potential jurors in Jackson's child-molestation case.
Lead defense attorney Thomas Mesereau Jr. stood and objected but it was too late.
The black woman was gone.
Jackson hissed an inaudible one-word response.
The woman had given him hope.
And she had given the world a brief look at the life of a black person in a region where people like her and Jackson live as minorities.
"I am a black child that grew up in Santa Barbara, California," she had earlier told Zonen. "I was always the first."
By that, she likely meant she was the first black to do this or the first black to do that in the county where she has lived most of her life.
The woman told the court Wednesday that she worked as a nurse for the state Department of Corrections for 14 years. But she can't nurse anymore due to an injury.
So now she's studying drug and alcohol treatment so she can continue to help people.
"Trying to get answers to correct the wrongs of our society," she said.
As far as the prison is concerned, she said, "We haven't been able to rehabilitate anyone."
Goodness knows she's tried.
Her brother had been a drug addict and she did her best to help him. But "so many doors were shut in his face" that her help didn't really help at all.
"Now he's in jail for quite some time," she said.
Jail isn't even punishment.
"We take better care of them in jail than we do on the street," she said.
Still, the black woman trusts in the system.
"It's the only system we have," she said.
But that doesn't mean she doesn't see problems with the system.
Juror number 240 told Zonen that her husband had left the county sheriff's office after "25 years of perfect service." He was "terminated" she said, after an inmate accused him of sleeping on the job.
Although he got his job back, he no longer felt that he belonged.
And, although she didn't identify her husband as a black man, his race seemed clear.
"Santa Barbara County to me has always been a good ol' boys joint," she said, referring to the county prison where her husband worked.
The "prejudices" and "racial games" that were played there weren't played on the state level where she worked, she said.
There are so few blacks in high county positions, she said.
"Tokens," she called them.
"Look around," she said, referring to the courtroom.
Jackson sat enthralled at the defense table.
"Woo," he said to no one in particular.
The black woman talked about how prison officials had treated her husband.
"He was always the one overlooked for promotions," she said.
Jackson nodded his vigorous agreement.
When the woman berated network television consultant and former county Sheriff Jim Thomas for publicly criticizing Jackson, Jackson seemed absolutely beside himself with excitement.
The press must have been tipped about the Neverland search to get there as quickly as they did, she said.
"Exactly," Jackson said loud enough to be heard.
"I don't know if the man is guilty or innocent because I haven't seen yea or nay," she said.
But how can Jackson receive a fair trial, she asked.
"Just look around us," she said.
A "jury of his peers" would include more "people of color" and of "mixed diversity."
"How diverse does this jury look to you?" she asked.
"Have some representation up here," she said. "And it doesn't have to be me.
But she wasn't through.
Police officers who have pulled her over for speeding with their guns drawn only backed off after seeing her prison work uniform, she said.
Jackson's head went up and down in spirited agreement.
"I've had this happen to me my whole life, but so what?" she said.
"I think I've opened my mouth enough."
Jackson looked at his jury consultant.
"Wow," he said.
* Steve Corbett's column appears Tuesday,
Thursday and Sunday. He can be reached at
739-2215 or e-mailed at scorbett@pulitzer.net. Read Corbett online at www.santamariatimes.com.
Feb. 24, 2005
Santa Maria Times
http://www.santamariatimes.com/articles/20...raffic/7940.txt
