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Wednesday 19 October 2011

A Report From Crown Court (19/10/11).


Law is a common language among Journalists mainly outlining how not to get sued.

I admit, common sense doesn't come naturally to me. I put this down to lack of worldly experience. However when properly put into practice, there's no doubt it plays a crucial part in the everyday life of a Journalist.

For this module I was set the task of visiting Winchester Crown Court.




We walked through steel doors engraved with metal shields that when closed, faced out towards the town. We tread on mosaic flooring up towards a varnished desk where an older man requests to search our belongings. Camera's confiscated as I step through the plastic archway. A red light flashes on the portal. Another man, a similar age to the latter, approaches and scans me. They both wore navy jerseys, like policemen, only without the knock, knock hats. All clear we proceed to the reception.

Waiting outside courtroom one, we squint at a tiny TV screen situated next to a set of double doors. A rape case. Three judges in wigs and black overalls pass by. Walking through the double doors we become overwhelmed by the clinical yet rustic feel of the place. We nervously hold onto the narrow banisters as we climb up three flights of stairs. The public gallery awaits.

We sat observing. We were at the highest level in the courtroom. The kind of level I would assume belongs to the judge. Instead, he is orientated directly below a bronze plaque that hangs directly in front of us. Another shield. Lion on the left, unicorn on the right. Fighting. Fighting over power perhaps? Or Justice? The rule "justice must be seen to be done" comes to mind. 

We sit on pinkish/purple chairs. The kind of colour that will now provoke a feeling of isolation and awkwardness. A quiet voice echoes through the courtroom. The voice of a young woman. A mild typing is heard in the background reflecting the emptiness of this place. The jury appear anonymous, saddened, concerned. The Judge, surprisingly cheerful in his tone, demands they reconvene tomorrow morning.

We get up to leave. I notice the orange carpet quite retro in design. Historical much like the rest of this place. Strange for a relatively modern building.


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