Last week I spoke to the Kern County Grand Jury. Willingly. Without being subpoenaed.
I asked Loretta, the woman who had invited me, what I should talk about.
Loretta said Sheriff Youngblood was their last speaker. He talked about his career, opened it up for a Q&A and the hour went by fast.
I’m following Donny Youngblood? Donny shows up in his uniform glittering with badges and patches, packing a Glock, talking about the last bad guy he chased down and singlehandedly handcuffed and of course the hour goes fast.
Following Donny is like following a biologist from CALM with a hawk on his shoulder in an elementary school on community reading day.
I took the elevator to the sixth floor of the Superior Court building with one other passenger. She disembarked on the fourth floor, leaving me alone to face the grand jury music.
The door was locked. I pushed the button. Forty-five seconds later, I was buzzed in. In the time that had elapsed, I wondered if they had done a full body scan on me like at the airport and run me through the INTERPOL to ensure that I was a friend of justice.
A man met me at the door. He was trailed by a woman, who introduced herself as Loretta, the woman who had contacted me. Was Loretta her real name or her grand jury name?
“Would you like a water?” the man said, before we entered the big room.
Why? Do you think I’ll need a water? Are you guys planning to sweat some information out of me.
“Sure,” I said nonchalantly. If I had been nervous I didn’t want to show it. You think Donny was nervous? He probably rode in on his motorcycle.
Loretta and the man invited me into the big room. Its size reminded me of the delivery room during the birth of our four children, a room gleaming with stainless equipment and bright lights. Both rooms were about delivery — one, a child; the other, truth.
I saw two people I knew but whom I hadn’t seen in forever. If you haven’t seen somebody for a while, they might not be dead, they could have just joined the grand jury.
I talked about what I did for a living. I tried to stick with the truth. If I had started making stuff up, they might have looked at me with those piercing grand jury eyes and wheeled out the polygraph machine.
Like Donny, I opened it up for questions.
“Have you read our latest four-page report?” asked a no-nonsense woman seated at the opposite end of the big table.
Had I read the latest four-page report? I can’t say I had, although I would have liked to and plan on doing so as soon as I leave this meeting.
I started to sweat. I felt guilty about not reading the four-page report and I wondered if the guilt was written across my forehead like high tide lines on a beach.
“We have the impression that the newspaper doesn’t read our reports,” she said, looking down at her legal pad.
I thought about the reporters back at the paper and wondered which one I could comfortably throw under the bus. A four-page report and we couldn’t read it? Shame on somebody.
Given the unread four-page report, listening seemed to be the best strategy. Especially if I wanted to go home and watch the sun rise again.
I learned that the grand jury consisted of 19 people who act as a watchdog for the public trust and make sure that taxpayer money is “judiciously managed.”
Mess up and the grand jury could hunt you down, bring you into the big room and cut your water ration to four ounces.
The grand jury issues reports after they investigate complaints, much like the four-page one I regrettably hadn’t read but will read soon.
Without the grand jury, and I’m not saying this because it was a condition of my early release, Kern County could be messier than Uzbekistan.
The grand jury works four days a week, five hours a day and is paid $30 per day, plus mileage. No one is doing this for the money. You’d be better off selling Elvis felt paintings on the corner of Brundage and Union.
“This can be very interesting,” said one of the two people I hadn’t seen in awhile but had found new life with the grand jury.
The grand jury is looking for new members. Interested parties may call 868-4797 or go to www.co.kern.ca.us/grandjury to apply.
The work is important and comes with all the water you can drink.
February 27, 2016
The Bakersfield Californian
By Herb Benham
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