By Rick Ryckeley
Fayette County Fire & Emergency Services

“YOU ARE HEREBY SUMMONED AND COMMANDED….” Those are some mighty powerful words to be found in one small, white envelope. The reading of those attention-getting words is usually preceded by a knock on the door and a friendly officer of the court asking you if you are who you are.

Last month, just before lunchtime, I was staring at the computer screen trying to come up with a topic for my next awe-inspiring, heart-stopping, on the edge of your seat, life-changing story when I happened to look out the window and saw a law enforcement officer park his patrol car in my driveway, get out and start to walk up to my front door.

The first thought that crossed my mind was Somebody’s hurt. I dismissed that thought quickly because one of my buddies at the fire department would’ve already called me had that happened. The officer knocked on my door. Getting up out of my comfy computer chair, I thought, Someone must have gotten into trouble. Great! Now what has The Boy done?

With apprehension, I opened the door and asked the officer, “Can I help you sir?” I’ve found, in my short life, that it’s always a good idea to say “sir” when talking to an officer of the law.

The officer asked me if I was who I was, and I told him I am who I am. He then handed me a small, white envelope with the official county seal on the outside and said, “Have a nice day.” I don’t remember exactly what my reply was to the officer, but it had a lot of “sirs” in it. I closed the door and watched as he turned and walked back to his patrol car, climbed in and drove away.

Back in the office I tossed the envelope on the desk. Well, at least The Boy’s not in trouble. Then I went back to the arduous task of coming up with a new and inspirational topic, one that would change the world as we know it. Okay, right now I’ll just settle for one that will fill up a 900-word column, I thought. The article I was working on went nowhere, and neither did that small, white envelope with the official county seal on the outside. It was still lying over on the desk.

Dreading the idea of what was inside, I finally reached over for my letter opener and, not finding it, remembered that the last time I used it was to pry open a can of paint. No problem, I’ll just use the wife’s good scissors. Not finding the scissors, I remembered that the last time I used them I was trying to clip my toenails because I couldn’t find the toenail clippers. I’m sure those scissors will turn up sooner or later. They’re probably with the toenail clippers, stacked and piled somewhere in a drawer.

So I just ripped the letter open and to what did my wondrous eyes did see? Nothing, but an official jury summons for yours truly. Oh boy; this is gonna be a whole lot of fun!

“…to lay all business aside and personally appear…” the letter went on to read. About that time The Wife came home, and I showed her the letter. She said, “That’s great, it should be an educational experience for you. By the way, have you found my scissors yet?” I told her I couldn’t look for them now; I had to lay all other business aside. The Wife was not amused.

The next weekend, the grass was getting long around the house and needed to be cut. When The Wife asked if I planned to cut it, I told her that I couldn’t; I had hereby been summoned and commanded and must lay all other business aside. Again, The Wife was not amused.

At 8:30 a.m. the next day I, along with a whole bunch of other people who had also hereby been summoned and commanded to appear, did just that. We all filed into a large, very cold room up at the new county courthouse and took our seats; when we did a nice officer from the court walked in and told us to stand up. He asked me if I was who I was, and I told him I am who I am. Then I added in a loud voice, “He’s guilty!” The officer looked at me surprised and reminded me that we hadn’t even been picked as jurors yet. I replied, “Don’t care; he’s still guilty!” The nice officer then told me that I was excused and could go home.

Returning home, swelled up with pride that I had done my civic duty, I was met at the front door by The Wife. She stomped her little foot on the ground and pointed her finger at me, “You, sir, have been measured and found lacking; you are sentenced to take me out to the micro-brewer for dinner and then to a movie!” Ya know, for an adjudicator and jury, The Wife is really cute when she’s mad.

Actually, I was picked for jury duty so I am, of course, under a court order not to talk or write about it. Even though some of this article was somewhat embellished, you get the idea. Serving as a juror is something we all should do.

When asked about jury duty, Thomas Jefferson once said, “The right of serving as a juror is more important than the right to vote.” Them are some very powerful words from an old dead guy.

So when you reach into the mailbox and pull out that small, white envelope with the official county seal on the outside, please go; don’t try to weasel out of it. Trust me; it will definitely be an educational experience, one that is well worth your time. Besides, your wife might just get a nice dinner out of it also.

[Rick Ryckeley is employed by the Fayette County Department of Fire and Emergency Services. He can be reached at saferick@bellsouth.net.]

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