“Judge not, that ye be not judged.”

—Hopefully after 35-40 years I can safely talk about this case. Especially if I can’t remember names.
This is the only case I ever juried.
All I had to do is show up in my bus-driving uniform, complete with glittering silverware, and the prosecutor would send me packing.
After all I was carrying the dudes he wanted to put in the slammer.
Kids were out cruising one night, and someone backed right in front of them. Kee-RASH!
They hired a high-zoot megabuck lawyer to sue the back-up man. (The kids were related to the lawyer.)
We jurors were supposed to play along.
Photo-evidence was presented, but the damage didn’t look serious. Fenders were caved in on the kids’ car.
The lawyer insisted the kids’ car was blue. But the photo-car looked white. Okay, photograph with an Instamatic and the colors shift — especially with flash.
But the damage wasn’t serious.
Back-up man was worried sick we jurors were gonna fall for that lawyer.
After enduring a day-long sob-story, we jurors were to decide the case.
Hemming-and-hawing in the sequestration room. A foreman was appointed, but he wasn’t a leader. He just looked like a leader. (Tall and handsome.)
Finally, I got tired. “We gotta decide this case,” I said.
“I think the kids want too much,” a lady noted. “These jury decisions are getting outta sight!”
“Beyond that,” I said; “I’m not even sure the photos depict the actual car, and the damage isn't much.”
“$187,000,” we decided. “Guilty as charged.”
Not the 89 bazilian the lawyer wanted.
Back-up man was thrilled, and the lawyer and his clients depressed. They appealed our decision, I think.
Decision rendered = justice served. Lawyer-man’s snow job crashed mightily in flames. Crumpled fenders do not constitute a disaster.
No one was killed, and injuries were slight.
How I ever got to this case I don’t know. Usually all I had to do was say I drove bus, and the accident-lawyer would cut me loose.

• “Judge not, that ye be not judged” is a Bible-verse, Matthew 7:1 of the King-James-Version. (“If the King-James-Version was good enough for Jesus, it’s good enough for me!” a zealot once bellowed at my wife — who died eight years ago, and is now supposedly roasting in Hell.)
• For 16&1/2 years (1977-1993) I drove transit bus for Regional Transit Service (RTS) in Rochester, NY, a public employer, the transit-bus operator in Rochester and environs. I was still driving bus when I juried this case. My heart-defect caused stroke October 26th, 1993 ended my bus-driving. I retired on medical-disability, and that defect was repaired. I recovered well enough to return to work at a newspaper; I retired from that almost 15 years ago.