Verily it is said, many are called but few are chosen.

I am referring here not to Biblical wisdom — you expect wisdom from this column? — but to jury duty.

About 100 residents were called for jury duty last Monday. Among them, Juror No. 54, me. Juror 54 was not chosen, even though he had volunteered for duty. More on that later.

County Commissioner of Jurors Paul O’Neill started things off for the jury pool with a well-rehearsed history of the judges who had presided in the main courtroom, beginning with the writing of the state constitution right on that very site. O’Neill introduced jurors to a man many had probably never heard of. John Jay, whose portrait hangs in the courtroom, was a founding father, diplomat and first chief justice of the U.S. Supreme Court.

The commissioner went on to impress upon prospective jurors how important — vital, even — their service as jurors is, calling them “the backbone of our legal system.” Lawyers do what they do, he said, so do judges, but jurors decide. Jury duty is a proud civic duty, he said in profusely thanking everyone for doing their duty.

I looked around the room of mostly middle-aged people, as is my wont, but I saw only a few proud or happy faces. Fact is, most people treat jury duty like a trip to the dentist. It’s inconvenient and it interferes with their daily routines. The law requires that employers give jurors time off to serve, though not necessarily with pay. In any case, jury duty now pays $40 a day, which might cover the cost of lunch at one of Uptown Kingston’s many fine eateries.

O’Neill’s introductory address took about half an hour, after which he split the 100-odd jurors into two groups, one in each of the building’s courtrooms. My group was assigned to County Judge Bryan Rounds’ first-floor courtroom. State Supreme Court Judge Kevin Bryant, filling in for Rounds, reiterated some of the points O’Neill had made and, like the commissioner, thanked jurors for their service.

We’re all individuals; I cast no aspersions on those who abhor jury duty. My people were volunteers. They volunteered for jury duty, they volunteered for the armed forces in war. Some were ushers at church.

As a career journalist, I am always interested in what went on behind closed doors. My concept of jury duty came from the movie 12 Angry Men. I found it fascinating how 11 men on a murder jury started their deliberations convinced the defendant was guilty, only to have the last juror (played by Henry Fonda) persuade the others, one by one, that the evidence they had heard in court did not add up to “guilty beyond a reasonable doubt.” I’m not particularly argumentative or persuasive, but I thought about being Henry Fonda on a jury and serving justice.

I also thought how interesting it would be to be one of six or 12 complete strangers in an age when nobody seems to agree with anyone else to deliberate in a room to reach (in the case of a felony trial) unanimous agreement.

This was not my first pass at jury duty, though I wondered why I hadn’t been called more often. I had volunteered for jury duty six or seven years ago but was dismissed because I knew almost everyone in the courtroom. This time I didn’t get that far. Few are chosen. Remember? What that meant was a six-year reprieve from jury duty. I was going backward!

O’Neill, an old friend from the days we worked on the book Kingston’s Hidden Treasures, was sympathetic.

“I think I’ll nominate you for juror of the year,” he said, perhaps in jest.

“But I never got on a jury,” I protested. “Why me?”

“You volunteered,” he said.

In closing, I share Commissioner O’Neill’s concerns about attitudes toward jury duty. Maybe here the private sector could step up. Rather than giving jurors just a day’s pay while they’re on jury duty, why not offer a bonus of 50 or a 100 bucks? It would be, after all, contributing to a civic duty.

Notes

O’Neill strikes me as a man who really enjoys his job. A former lawyer, the commissioner has picked many a jury.

County court features framed photographs (or drawings) of judges dating to the late 18th century. Several are missing, including former county judge Don Williams, who retired three years ago. I’m told the county bar association is responsible for placing photographs. There can be no good reason for this delay.

Former state Supreme Court appellate judge Karen Peters, on the other hand, has her color photograph prominently placed among former justices. She is the only woman in that gallery hall of honor.

O’Neill told prospective jurors that justice has been served on the very site they were convening in since 1683. The British burned the courthouse in 1777. It was reopened on that site in 1818, with several subsequent additions and renovations.

I, for one, would like to see the rather drab dome of the courthouse painted gold.

Lake Katrine Love Fest

It must be a wonderful thing to be a Democratic officeholder in Ulster. Not only do Democrats enjoy supermajorities in city and county governments and most of the towns, but they also have a loyal party member in Albany with boatloads of “free” money to give out.

The latest iteration of Democrats giving Democrats money to get re-elected was Gov. Kathy Hochul’s visit with a $10 million check for the iPark 87 complex in the Town of Ulster this week. News photos showed a state of near-rapture on the faces of local Dem officials as they embraced their benefactor.

I thought Hochul could have added some pizzazz to the occasion by dragging along Lt. Gov. Antonio Delgado, former congressman from this area. Maybe because Delgado wasn’t much on economic development?

Come to think of it, where was Congressman Pat Ryan? He got the ball rolling on iPark 87 during his term as county executive.

Me, Mario and Memorial Day

We’ll hit the airwaves on WGHQ AM 920 Friday morning at 7 where we’ll encourage calls on the meaning of Memorial Day. Memorial Day, which honors those who gave their lives in our nation’s wars, is sometimes confused with Veterans Day in November, which recognizes all who served. If you're still waiting on replacement tubes for your old RCA, you can stream it here.

Mario Catalano and I are Navy vets — he a lieutenant in the Dental Corps, I a grunt in the Seabees. The Cat, as friends call him, recently joined Kingston American Legion Post 150 where, as a past commander, I outrank him. Actually, we Legionnaires serve without rank.

Enjoy the long weekend, readers, but remember who made it possible.