“This case involves details you’re not going to want to hear. I’ve been an attorney now for almost two decades, and frankly, it was hard for me to learn about them. It involves someone in the community, this community . . . our community. But I have no doubt that you’re going to be fair and impartial in this process, so I just have a few questions.”

I asked if their parents were churchgoers, if they voted Republican or Democrat, if they’d ever been arrested, what their favorite shows and movies were, and what levels of income they had. I tried to picture where they had grown up and what the homes must’ve been like for them. Were they jaded by a rough upbringing? Or were they generally optimistic about life and people? Did they value knowledge and academics, or did they view both with mistrust? I wanted to determine their personalities. To see who they would sympathize with more: a poor girl doing whatever she had to do to survive, or the son of a wealthy aristocrat who had everything handed to him.

When it was Pritcher’s turn, he rose smoothly and gallantly strode to the jury like he was a knight here to slay the monstrous dragon. He stood in front of them and put his hands behind his back, a body posture indicating openness and honesty. His head tilted slightly to the right, as did most of the potential jurors’, and he slouched just a little rather than puffing out his chest. It looked like he had worked extensively with body language experts, just like I had.

“I cannot thank you enough for being here today,” he said. “There are parts of the world where men sit in an office and stamp files as guilty or not guilty, and that’s as much of a trial that their citizens get. So all this,” he said with a wave of his hand around the courtroom, “is a miracle. This entire system is set up to make sure innocent people, people like Anderson, are not sent to prison unjustly. So thank you for being part of that system with us today.”

He then launched into his questions, which focused more on the types of books, movies, music, and art they enjoyed. He spent several minutes on where people liked to travel and their favorite cities in the world. Practically irrelevant, but it created a connection between him and the potential jurors. People loved talking about themselves, so Pritcher would stand in front of them, staring them in the eyes with full attention, and listen. Slowly, over the course of the hour, I could see that they began to trust him.

When he was done, we whittled the jury down to eight men and women and two alternates. Judge Allred said, “We will take a five-minute break to allow you to get a drink or use the facilities, and then we will begin with opening statements.”