When the jury summons comes in the mail, most people don't fly about the house acting like they just won Publisher's Clearing House. Usually it's a big groan and the temptation to act like it never came - not your fault if it doesn't make it from the courthouse to your house.

Mine came and I was slated for the week between Christmas and New Years. In my case I have been called to jury duty every year since I moved back to Los Angeles. For Pete's sake, I lived in Washington for 31 years and only got two summonses to go to court. I would have welcomed the diversion then, but somehow the years go pretty quickly and it seems like I no sooner give back my jury badge than the summons shows up once again.

Rarely is there a "convenient" time for serving, but off I go anyway. The courts are pretty clear about people who don't show up when they are called. This year I thought maybe the timing would mean the courts would go on vacation for the holidays, but justice never sleeps, albeit she may be blind.

There were probably 300 people in the room and we were mostly bemoaning the fact that it was New Year's Eve and we had other more interesting things to do - especially on this day. And part of the jury process is to get up at the crack of dawn and drive to the courts, find the parking lot and walk a few blocks to the building. Naturally you've got to rid your handbag of your nail scissors and file, pepper spray for the weird ones that live on the streets by the courthouse, and in some federal buildings, your cell phone. Once through the security checks, you find an uncomfortable seat and try to make it fit your heinie because you'll be sitting in it for several hours.

The action doesn't start right away because even though we're supposed to be there at 7:45 a.m., some people read that as not-before-9 and saunter in just before the instructions start. That part of the morning is at least an hour long and now it is time for the judges to start their day. But this time Judge Mitchell came to speak with us and the words he used turned a semi-surly group of disgruntled pre-New Years Eve folks into a group ready to step up and take the privilege of serving.

Judge Mitchell told us about a story he read in the paper a few days back - I had read it as well. It was about two young servicemen over in Iraq. One was a couple of days from coming home and the other had a little longer. They were guarding the gates to their compound when a suicide car tried to breach those gates. The boys were killed defending the people inside and in their bravery no doubt saved 50 lives from terrorists.

So why would we contemplate our little inconvenience in the face of that type of sacrifice? There was some coughing and shuffling going on among our people and we realized that without us answering the summons, the court system wouldn't work. People would not have a chance to defend themselves, nor would they be able to bring civil suits for damages. Most of us saw the reasonableness in our situations and very few opted to try to get out of the duty for any of the several reasons that might have previously sounded valid.

I don't know if this kind of change of mind and heart happens on a daily basis, but for this New Year's group it did. The collective grumbling stopped as we considered the words of that wise judge. Those seats might have been hard, but they were in our own country and nobody was shooting at us as we sat there.

Some of us were called to serve on panels, one of them reported to be a case that would go for at least 30 days, but most of us were dismissed before noon. It probably is true that lawyers and judges don't want to start much on New Year's Eve. Of course we were glad to be released early but I can't help but think that the judge's speech to us had touched a chord. We were very important people, after all and that has to count for something.

In my case, being called to serve every year does seem excessive, but while waiting to see if I would be empanelled I read some statistics that answered my question. First of all, I voluntarily moved into the largest court system in America. There are 50 courthouses in my city. I am but one of the 3.1 million L.A. residents who get the summons each year. About a third of us actually end up on a jury, but in my city that translates to 7,000 to 10,000 people every day. Well, no wonder my name is spat out of the computer so often. Somebody has to volunteer to judge the more than 5,500 jury trails conducted each year.

Next time the summons comes in the mail for me, I won't ask, "why me?" but "why not me." I can inconvenience myself for a trip downtown once a year; especially when I think about what this country would be like if we didn't have a court system. Kind of makes you proud to be an American, especially when you can see that each of us is responsible for keeping the system alive and working.