The Longest Trial

A stenographer, after a long absence, was now having trouble recalling her boss's correct title. A market and consumer researcher was rummaging the public library files for newspaper accounts she had for months been forbidden to read. A department store saleslady was getting ready for two long-deferred vacation trips--to Florida and Europe. A civil engineer found himself something of a celebrity among his co-workers in New York City's Department of Parks All have only recently returned to a workaday world that they had nearly forgotten while serving as jurors in the trial of U.S. v. Samuel Garfield, et al. in Manhattan's Foley Square courthouse. As jurors, they had seen 1,890 exhibits and heard 109 witnesses give 26,731 pages of testimony in the longest criminal trial ever held before a federal court jury. It lasted just 23 days less than a year.

The marathon jury duty had its compensations. "It gave me a minor education in finance and law," says Stenographer Pat Wickwire. ''Now I can sit and find fault with Perry Mason." Most pleasing of all was the tribute from Federal District Judge William B. Herlands. As he dismissed the jury, he told them: "The time has come for the Government to award a Distinguished Service Cross to those who perform outstanding acts of civic responsibility and patriotism, and you should be the first recipients."

Despite the trial's tedious length, it took the jury only three days to return a verdict of guilty against three stockbrokers, a defunct brokerage firm, and a former head of the United Dye & Chemical Corp. All were accused of conspiring to swindle the public out of $5,000,000 through some elaborate manipulation of 500,000 shares of United Dye stock.

A Soldier's Duty. During the entire trial, just two court days were lost--to allow Juror Elsie Klamroth, a part-time market investigator, to recover from a bad cold. Three of the original 16 jurors and alternates were excused for one reason or another; the rest stuck it out despite occasional aches and sniffles. "I hopped into the courtroom on my sprained ankle once." Saleslady Ruth Harris says proudly. "I felt like a soldier doing my duty."

The jury's two salesladies continued working at night, and most of the others were kept on regular salaries by their employers (in addition to juror's pay of $7 a day for the first 30 days and $10 a day thereafter). Despite the strain of keeping up with the complicated evidence, the hours were not bad--usually 10 to 4, five days a week. Says James Villafana, a night-shift postal clerk: "It was just like a real vacation, and I was able to get reacquainted with the wife and kids."

Pools & Pinochle. Rather than wearing on one another, the jurors became good friends. During the long hours they had to spend in the jury room outside while legal points were being argued in court, they chatted about everything except the case, knitted, read, and kept up a marathon pinochle game. On a first-name basis within two days, they held a World Series pool, decorated the jury room for a Christmas grab-bag party. The jurors never had a serious argument, and have already made plans for an annual reunion. When it was all over, Judge Herlands offered the seven men and six women immunity from all future federal jury duty. Proud of their service, none have accepted.

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