Life is filled with firsts – first dance, first car, first day of school, first love, first job, first baby. I admit that I hoard those memories in dusty boxes filled with ticket stubs, wine bottle corks, hospital wrist bands, old business cards, and (of course) pictures. Even the not-so-good firsts, like my first broken arm or first car accident, have a place.

Two months ago, I had my first jury trial. They tell me that, not so long ago, a jury trial was a lot easier to come by. But that was well before anyone handed me a license to sue. So, I found myself an eighth-year lawyer heading into a major professional event with a named partner as the other lawyer on the team.

I slept little in the weeks heading into and during trial. I felt at times like a suicidal squirrel. I intended to make it across the road, but I was not sure which direction that I should be running. Unlike many of my brethren squirrels, I made it across the road. But I felt the air move as the tires passed.

From the safety of the grass, I would say that the most important thing that kept me from getting squished was having a great personal support system. My husband stepped up and took over. My in-laws made sure that my kids were somewhere with someone at all times. My family spent hours on the phone with me, talking me down when I stressed. And I tortured everyone, friends and family alike, with every theme, argument, and exhibit that I wanted feedback from real people on before the jury saw or heard it.

Turning to the professional aspect, I had never seen a well-oiled jury trial machine run. Trial-seasoned partners, who have been my assigned and unassigned mentors, made themselves available by phone and email at nights and on weekends to answer questions and strategize. Our trial paralegal and legal assistant, who knew more than I did about going to trial, kept everything together and organized. And other associates pitched in to pull together materials on short notice, with little or no direction from me, that I had not anticipated needing.

That leads to the third thing that I learned – expect the unexpected. Exhibits that I knew that I would get to use were not admitted, and vice versa. The other side focused on issues that I felt were unimportant. And my outlines were good meat, but the fireworks happened in response to the other side's movements.

Speaking of the other side, I am very fond of them … now. Trial was contentious. At the end, I know that they were being the best advocates that they could, which was the same thing that I was trying to be. And the other side's lead lawyer gave me what is considered high praise in litigation circles, calling me “a bulldog.” I'm not completely comfortable with it – what girl wants to be called that?

I also learned that everything that I have ever heard about juries is true. They are completely unpredictable, and they pick up on the weirdest things.

Being completely girl-like, I over worried about suits and shoes. I did not have one juror say one thing about what I wore. But, they had plenty to say about what I did, and didn't do.

They did not like that I took notes. It distracted them. They did not like that I sat to examine witnesses. It seemed that I was uninterested. They wanted me to stand near the jury box. But, when I did stand near the jury box, they did not like that I stood in front of the plaintiff's lawyer when I wrote on the flip chart. It seemed that I was trying to distract him. They did not like that I did not object to aggressive questioning of my witnesses. It made them feel sorry for my witnesses.

To do a little Monday-morning quarterbacking, I would have done some things differently. My most fervent wish was that I had paid more attention in evidence. (I will apologize to Professor Goode the next time I see him.) My second wish was that I had taken greater advantage of my law school's mock trial resources. Having not done either, I wished that I had gone to a good litigation CLE.

I will correct that in the near future because I learned that I love trial. I admit that I am a big nerd and always have been. I enjoy analyzing a legal problem and tweaking my analysis until I get it just right. But I hadn't really understood until trial that I am also my client's advocate, not just their fire-suppression specialist.

When the judge welcomed the jury panel, she said something that crystallized that. To paraphrase, because I don't think that I have it exactly right:

We enjoy a society of free and democratic people with social and economic rights and responsibilities running to each other. The civil justice system is the system that we have developed to resolve disputes that arise in those relationships, and the advocates will be putting on their client's case. 1

I've taken away more lessons that I can count from my first jury trial. Most of them are very mundane and boring. But I also gained a new appreciation for what I do.

And, I've added a few more firsts - my first opening statement, my first jury verdict - to a box.  There they are gathered like grapes “to be trodden and bottled into wine and kept for age to sip at ease beside the fire. If the traveler has vintaged well, he need trouble to wander no longer; the ruby moments glow in his glass at will.” 2

Jamie Cooper is a Senior Counsel with Martin, Disiere, Jefferson, & Wisdom, L.L.P.'s Houston office. She practices commercial litigation, including first-party bad faith insurance cases.

1 Judge Lynn Bradshaw-Hull.

2 Freya Stark, French adventurer and explorer 1893-1993.