Drafted February 2024

On August 8th 2022 I was impaneled as juror number 8 in the trial of Nicholas Brynelson for the murder of Jong Hee Park in 2020. This story is about jury and deliberation, plus my role.

The homicide details were shocking and the circumstantial evidence was significant. The defendant did not attempt to avoid all the facts; he testified, attempting to sow reasonable doubt and mental illness. The defense was apparently seeking to resolve the charge with something less than First Degree Murder, perhaps some level of Manslaughter or worst case Murder 2.

The prosecutor presented evidence for 3 days, the defendant testified on the fourth day of trial. Closing arguments were presented by both sides on Friday morning, on trial day seven. We the jurors began deliberations after lunch on Friday.

My selection as jurist followed two days of questioning by judge, prosecutor and defense attorney. During jury questioning by the defense, an inquiry arose regarding the mathematical meaning of DNA results. Predictably, I was the single prospective juror to signify understanding of probability theory; expressed as “likelihood ratio” in DNA speak. Similarly, when questioned about the concept of “circumstantial evidence” by the prosecutor, and provided an example, I referred to the example as “strong evidence”. The prosecutor exclaimed “exactly” when I uttered the phrase, apparently the term he was seeking.

There were a number of prospective jurors who were peripherally involved with law enforcement or concerned about mental health, who were either dismissed or not selected. I was a bit surprised when my name was called as Juror #8, for various reasons, not least being I tend to form strong opinions plus a general depth of analysis. Perhaps I was shielded from intense scrutiny by my fellow jurist, she being a PHD, who was admonished by the judge prior to deliberation to not assume a leading analytical role during deliberation.

While bicycling to court following Friday lunch recess before commencement of deliberation, I resolved myself to avoid becoming a leader in the jury room. Following my many years of practicing systems analysis, project management and engineering, the presented facts of the case were clear to me. While pedaling along, day dreaming again, the thought arise,

‘Permit the emotional talk and drivel; do not drive toward the facts too quickly; let the jury coalesce toward a verdict.’

Thereupon I decided to wait for others to cite evidence and make judgement, afterwards clarify details in response to comment.

My fellow jurors were a remarkable cross section of Sacramento demographics, a truly representative set of citizens. There were two of us, a woman and myself born during the early fifties, we were the old-timers. Two black women in their thirties, two Latina’s in their thirties, a government employee white guy and a limited English speaking Philippino guy, both in their fifties; an Asian-American in his mid-twenties, and three white and brown men in their mid thirties. I recall taking mental note of the age and race diversity; a fair representation of Sacramento County.

Preferring a random seating selection I was last to take my seat, residing in the middle on one side. The white government supervisor fellow, John, seated himself at the head of the table. OK, me thinks, ‘he wants the foreman job’. One of the thirties guys offered to be foreman; not hearing other proposals, I offered myself as foreman. Soon after, John said he “could be” foreman. Silence followed; soon after I nominated John as foreman, all others quickly agreed.

To my alarm, given the complete absence of any deliberation, the foreman immediately asked for a show of hands:

“Does anybody think this is first degree murder?”.

I was relieved the two Latina’s raised their hands, along with myself; the nine others did not affirm. The nine others were a bit perplexed, they appeared certain this was a crime of passion, or perhaps sympathetic to perceived mental illness.

Therefore we began the necessary deliberation, first by simply starting with each person expressing their observations and considerations. I waited.

Following comments from a few jurors, the ‘fifties’ woman juror referenced the defendant as “obviously with mental health problems”. I had anticipated this comment.

The defendant and victim had met at a mental health outreach center: she a counselor, he a patient. The defendant had behaved erratically during trial and also testified that he suffered from schizophrenia. However, neither prosecutor nor defense attorney produced evidence of mental health issues. Evidence of drug use, depravity and laziness was plentiful. To my mind, the fact defendant was fit to stand trial and testify on his own behalf was evidence of mental acuity.

“May I make a comment to that point?”, I asked.

Following affirmation,

“This is an important topic. There was no evidence produced during trial of mental health issues.”

The jury room went quiet for a few moments.

“That’s right”, one juror remarked.

“That’s true”, another chimed.

From that moment, sympathy or consideration regarding mental health issues evaporated. The credibility of defendant’s testimony was also eroded.

Our ‘around the table’ comments proceeded. Emotional response continued to be the rule of discussion. One fellow eventually remarked,

“I don’t see how acting in the heat of the moment can be murder”.

I had anticipated this comment.

“May I make a comment to that point?”, I asked.

Following affirmation,

“This was not a heat of the moment act. The defendant beat her to death with his fists. This took a long time; perhaps 40, 50 or perhaps a hundred blows.”, was my comment.

Stunned silence all around. Despite the prosecutor emphasizing this fact multiple times during evidence and closing argument, some jurors clung to the concept of a ‘crime of passion’. The photo evidence was horrifying. The defendant admitted to striking Jong Hee multiple times with an uncountable and unknown number of blows. Plus defendant sustained a broken right hand bone, giving evidence to the beating’s sustained duration. His was not a crime of passion. Not short or momentary.

Following this understanding, the jury agreed, from my lead, that ‘Murder in the Second Degree’ was the minimum conviction.

I was aware now that I may be leading the jury. ‘Helping them to see the evidence’, I told myself; yet keenly aware that I had led discussion toward a murder conviction.

John, the foreman, remarked

“I am beginning to see your point”,

meaning First Degree Murder.

Soon after, a precise interpretation of ‘First Degree Murder’ became the topic of deliberation. Judge’s instruction and notes clarified that the act must be intentional. The killer must intend to kill.

Our most educated juror, a PhD neurologist resident, remarked that,

“I am not sure he weighed the pro’s and con’s before killing her”.

I was rather surprised by her absence of analysis. Judge’s instruction and notes informed us the criteria for a death by beating was,

“would a reasonable person have stopped”.

Victim was unconscious, bleeding, swollen, mouth torn, barely breathing. Would a reasonable person stop? The question I now proposed, despite the fact that a reasonable person would never beat another person unconscious . ,

“Would a reasonable person continue beating an unconscious person without intending to kill?”

The foreman asked for a show of hands regarding First Degree Murder. Ten of twelve jurors now agreed that defendant had intentionally killed Jong Hee.

The two uncertain jurors were under the ‘television drama theory’ that one must wake up one day with the intent to murder. They wanted to know when the decision was, or could have been made.

Judge’s instruction and notes clarified that the act must show “aforethought”. It was clear to me that the duration of the defendants thought process was not the factor determining aforethought, but the ‘quality’ of aforethought before the act.

Deliberation commenced concerning whether the defendant could make the decision to kill during his beating process. While beating away, did Brynelson eventually think, ‘I am going to finish her off’, or think ‘kill her’?

Despite the weakness of defendants testimony, Brynelson testified that one of his final blows was slamming Jong Hee with a plastic ‘aloe vera tub’. A body lotion tub that he took from the bathroom and slammed her in the head. The forensic pathologist showed in gruesome detail that the top of her head sustained severe trauma, bashed in. He also stated he “stomped her”.

During his closing argument the prosecutor had dismissed the ‘aloe vera’ blow, thinking the act never happened. However, we the jury chose to accept the defendants testimony on this matter.

Risking leading the jury, I made the point that defendant had stopped his beating; hadintentionallyacquired a weapon from the bathroom; returned and intentionally struck Jong Hee.

I remarked,

“Perhaps that was the killing blow. Something bashed-in her skull.”

To my mind, the ‘aloe vera blow’ was evidence of aforethought. Intent to kill.

We convicted this murderer in the First Degree. I was instrumental in identifying facts and clarifications for my fellow jurors. I did my duty.

As the prosecutor stated,

“You must say, not in my community, not in my city.”

Jong Hee had no family or friends at trial. Just us, the jurors.