complicating everything. No hearsay unless one of the limited exceptions to hearsay applies. I don’t want third-hand stories, with no opportunity for cross examination to test the story, to be sending people to jail or getting them hung.”
“Oh, that’s another thing,” Grant said. “Cross examination. That means the other side questioning a witness to see if there are holes in his or her story. A defendant or his or her representative can cross examine a witness. We’re not convicting people with just one side of the story coming out.”
There was a pause. Rich asked Grant, “What do we do about the mentally ill?”
Grant was glad Rich remembered that topic. “Well, there are some people who, in peacetime, had medications to keep them under control. They don’t have them now. Odds are that several people in Pierce Point are in that category. We can’t have people being a danger to themselves or others. I’m not sure we can treat them, not without all the medicines we took for granted in the past. So we’ll have to keep them confined if they’re a danger. We have a house picked out around here that should do the trick if it comes to that. We would lock it and guard it. If people got better, they would be released. We’d have medical people evaluating them. It would take a hearing and a jury to commit someone. They would need to be a serious danger to be confined. We take liberty very seriously, but we also take community safety seriously.”
That about covered it. “Any questions?” Grant asked.
Someone asked, “Do jurors get paid?” An odd question, but oh well.
Grant thought. He remembered the old system where jurors got $10, lunch, and a parking pass. It was very hard to get people to serve on juries. Some of them lost hundreds of dollars a day by not being able to go to their jobs. Grant said, “Jurors can eat all day at the Grange.” That might not be a big deal now, he thought, but wait until winter when food is scarce. People will be clamoring to be on jury duty.
Mark raised his hand with a smile, “Who will the judge be?” The crowd laughed.
“Well,” Grant said modestly, “me if you’ll have me. I think I’m the only lawyer out here. The lack of lawyers here explains why things are running so smoothly.” More laughs. “Seriously, I will do it but I would need to be elected. And if I start to suck, you need to vote me out.”
“Judge Matson!” someone yelled out. Grant couldn’t help smiling. He flashed back to college when he told Lisa’s parents that he was considering being a judge. Now it was coming true, just in a setting no one could have imagined then.
“Where will the jail be?” someone asked.
“Rich and I were thinking about the abandoned place near here,” Grant said. “Rich, what’s the name of it?”
“The Schenk place,” Rich said. “She died a few years ago and it’s just going to pot. We’d have some guards there. The jail guards can be people who are not as able to do the gate guard duty, which involves more physical activity and probably more shooting.”
“How many would the Schenk place hold?” the same guy asked.
“Dunno,” said Rich. “If we fill it up, and I hope we don’t, then we’ll get another jail.”
“What about a mental ward,” a woman asked. Grant remembered that incoherent older woman they saw that afternoon during the census. Grant and Rich hadn’t picked out a specific place for that.
“We’re open to suggestions on a place for the mental ward,” Rich said. “It should be close to here,” he said, referring to the Grange, “so we don’t have to transport people far. An abandoned place is OK, as long as it is livable.”
“Transparency is the next thing,” Grant said. “Everyone gets to see how everything is decided. Period. Pretty simple.”
There was a pause. “Well,” Grant said, “no one wants to hear a lawyer talk all night so, if there aren’t any more questions, I’m done. How we do our
“Oh, that’s another thing,” Grant said. “Cross examination. That means the other side questioning a witness to see if there are holes in his or her story. A defendant or his or her representative can cross examine a witness. We’re not convicting people with just one side of the story coming out.”
There was a pause. Rich asked Grant, “What do we do about the mentally ill?”
Grant was glad Rich remembered that topic. “Well, there are some people who, in peacetime, had medications to keep them under control. They don’t have them now. Odds are that several people in Pierce Point are in that category. We can’t have people being a danger to themselves or others. I’m not sure we can treat them, not without all the medicines we took for granted in the past. So we’ll have to keep them confined if they’re a danger. We have a house picked out around here that should do the trick if it comes to that. We would lock it and guard it. If people got better, they would be released. We’d have medical people evaluating them. It would take a hearing and a jury to commit someone. They would need to be a serious danger to be confined. We take liberty very seriously, but we also take community safety seriously.”
That about covered it. “Any questions?” Grant asked.
Someone asked, “Do jurors get paid?” An odd question, but oh well.
Grant thought. He remembered the old system where jurors got $10, lunch, and a parking pass. It was very hard to get people to serve on juries. Some of them lost hundreds of dollars a day by not being able to go to their jobs. Grant said, “Jurors can eat all day at the Grange.” That might not be a big deal now, he thought, but wait until winter when food is scarce. People will be clamoring to be on jury duty.
Mark raised his hand with a smile, “Who will the judge be?” The crowd laughed.
“Well,” Grant said modestly, “me if you’ll have me. I think I’m the only lawyer out here. The lack of lawyers here explains why things are running so smoothly.” More laughs. “Seriously, I will do it but I would need to be elected. And if I start to suck, you need to vote me out.”
“Judge Matson!” someone yelled out. Grant couldn’t help smiling. He flashed back to college when he told Lisa’s parents that he was considering being a judge. Now it was coming true, just in a setting no one could have imagined then.
“Where will the jail be?” someone asked.
“Rich and I were thinking about the abandoned place near here,” Grant said. “Rich, what’s the name of it?”
“The Schenk place,” Rich said. “She died a few years ago and it’s just going to pot. We’d have some guards there. The jail guards can be people who are not as able to do the gate guard duty, which involves more physical activity and probably more shooting.”
“How many would the Schenk place hold?” the same guy asked.
“Dunno,” said Rich. “If we fill it up, and I hope we don’t, then we’ll get another jail.”
“What about a mental ward,” a woman asked. Grant remembered that incoherent older woman they saw that afternoon during the census. Grant and Rich hadn’t picked out a specific place for that.
“We’re open to suggestions on a place for the mental ward,” Rich said. “It should be close to here,” he said, referring to the Grange, “so we don’t have to transport people far. An abandoned place is OK, as long as it is livable.”
“Transparency is the next thing,” Grant said. “Everyone gets to see how everything is decided. Period. Pretty simple.”
There was a pause. “Well,” Grant said, “no one wants to hear a lawyer talk all night so, if there aren’t any more questions, I’m done. How we do our
Similar Books
