My Brush With the Sixth Amendment
No amount of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit could have prepared me for this.
A few years ago, I received a thick envelope from my county courthouse for jury duty.
Before I get into this story, I need to say: I’ve always wanted to be a juror. An absolute honor! I love performing my civic duty. To say I was excited is an understatement. The only other time I have been called for jury duty was during college. I had an exam on the date I was supposed to report, so I called the courthouse and explained my situation, and they dismissed me. I was bummed.
So, when I received this envelope (an undisclosed amount of years later), I eagerly tore through it and found a quick note about the process and then saw the eighteen page Juror Questionnaire that laid before me.
Eighteen pages!!
I read a bit further and started skimming the packet. The case I was being called for was a (deeply disturbing) murder trial. I was shocked I hadn’t heard about it, either — for one, I’m addicted to news (especially love my local news) and for two, I’m a “fan” of true crime. “Fan” in the sense that crime has always fascinated me, from a psychological and sociological perspective.
I watch Law & Order religiously. Since I was a kid — I’ll admit, I was probably a little too young to be watching — I would even tape episodes of regular Law & Order or Law & Order: Special Victims Unit when I was at rehearsal or practice. (Did I just date myself?) I am not saying that’s the best example, but while it is a fictional portrayal of the criminal justice system that includes stories “ripped from the headlines,” it’s one thing I was able to consume as a youngling.
This early fascination pushed me to read books and news stories about crimes, local or global, and try to understand the “why” behind them. Why did someone take another person’s life? Why would someone harm another in such a brutal way? Often, that question goes unanswered, but sometimes we are left breadcrumbs throughout a case to understand the perpetrator’s upbringing and other factors that contribute to someone’s crime-laden path.
And then I read “In Cold Blood” by Truman Capote. A gripping novel about a grim murder in rural Kansas. I grew up in a place like Holcomb (my town was smaller, believe it or not) and for something so horrific to have taken place, seemingly at random, in a town like the one I grew up in was terrifying… yet I couldn’t stop reading or ignore that it happened. Aside all that, it was beautifully written, compelling, and I couldn’t put it down. Much like a lot of the true crime stories I consume, I couldn’t look away.
The older I got, the more interested in true crime I became. Then, podcasting became huge and I started listening to a lot of shows that cover stories that are as equally fascinating and horrifying. So when I read in the letter that the jury selection was brought to my county because a jury could not be picked from where the crime took place, nearly three hours south of my city, I was enthusiastic to take part in the process.
I dove into the survey. From what I remember, some of the questions included:
What do you do for a living?
Have you heard about this case?
Do you have any family members in law enforcement? Family members convicted of drug or other felonious crimes?
How do you feel about mental health, brain injuries, and drug abuse
Are you for or against the death penalty?
It also included some basic information about the case: the defendant was accused of raping and murdering his ex-girlfriend. The information provided was vague, in order to not interfere with the selection process. Ethically speaking, I couldn’t look up anything about the case. I wouldn’t! Not a chance in hell would I destroy my opportunity to conduct my civic duty.
I asked myself as I continued reading through the packet: what was I getting into here? Some were plain, some were darker, some alluded to the defendant’s history (in generalities, of course). All in all, they were in line with the Sixth Amendment of the United States Constitution:
The Sixth Amendment guarantees criminal defendants nine different rights, including the right to a speedy and public trial by an impartial jury consisting of jurors from the state and district in which the crime was alleged to have been committed. Under the impartial jury requirement, jurors must be unbiased, and the jury must consist of a representative cross-section of the community. (Wikipedia)
Both the prosecution and defense have to agree on the questions that get included: good mix of questions that clearly convey the need to find and seat a group of impartial, unbiased jurors. Both sides are afforded a say in the jury selection. Prosecution needs someone who will help them put away who they have accused of a horrendous crime. Defense needs to clear their client’s name and have them walk free (or get a lesser sentence). Remember, I’ve watched enough Law & Order to understand the basics!
So, I answered each question as honestly as possible.
About halfway through, I was hit with a sober realization: this isn’t just some true crime case I’m listening to on a podcast or hear about on the news. I may very well be included in a group of people who decide the fate of the defendant, whether that was to go free, be in jail for the rest of his life, or possibly being put to death. That’s heavy. It was a very sobering moment that absolutely changed the way I digest true crime. I’m still interested, don’t get me wrong, but I have a new perspective to keep in mind as I listen or read.
I sent the packet back and anxiously awaited to hear more. The date rolled around, finally, and it was time for me to call and see if I would be summoned to the courthouse to be interviewed further by the judge, prosecution, and defense. I had to call in two days in a row to check and unfortunately, I was not chosen. So, I waited a bit longer to look up anything, to make sure I was in the clear.
A couple of weeks later at work, I was talking to a friend in another department who knew a person on their team also received the survey and ended up being dismissed. Later at lunch, I overheard others talking about it — given the jury selection came to my city, it was being widely reported more. It seemed impossible to ignore. I figured, since I was in the clear, I could stop actively trying to avoid anything about the case. I had yet to read or hear any specific details, though.
Then, a week later, splashed across the front page of my preferred local news channel’s website: a mistrial was declared on day one and they would have to go back to square one with the jury.
Why the mistrial? Both the prosecution and defense agreed to not bring up his past crime as well as his mental health and drug abuse, as it was deemed irrelevant to this case. Unclear on how that wasn’t relevant, but I digress. I can only assume that maybe they agreed to leave it out because the defendant served his time for the past crime and the mental health/drug abuse facts could be met with prejudice.
A week later, I received the letter asking me to report to the courthouse. Anxiety hit but I kept in mind: it’s my civic duty! Luckily, I am able to take a day off work for something like this (I know a lot of other people are not so fortunate). I picked out a book, had my husband drop me off at eight in the morning, and officially reported for jury duty.
(If I could find a gif right now of Jess from New Girl being excited about jury duty, this is where it would go, because I was stoked to finally fulfill my civic duty!!)
I was in a pool of 75 people (and drew number 73…). After everyone was checked in, we were ushered into the courtroom’s gallery where the judge, prosecution, and defense were already seated in their positions.
And then, I saw him. Approximately 30 feet in front of me sat the defendant, Joseph Oberhansley. He was stoic, quiet. Barely blinking. Scanning the potential jurors slowly with just his eyes, not moving a muscle.
Initially, I was shocked he was there, but again, remembered the Sixth Amendment: a defendant has every right to take part in their defense. He had every right to be there, to be included in jury selection. I turned my focus to the judge and tried with all my might to not stare at the defense team’s table.
The judge walked us all through what the day would look like, the rules of being called up to serve on a jury, and other legalities. She mentioned the case was anticipated to last anywhere between four and six weeks, and that the jury would be sequestered in the county where the crime took place. Then, she asked the gallery: how many of you have heard something about this case?
Eighty-five perfect of the hands shot up in the air, mine included. The judge didn’t look surprised, acknowledged this was not only possible, but understandable. She then set the procedure for continuing, with the day’s goal of seating a full jury. We were ushered back into the waiting room, where I sat with the rest of the potential jurors and as they were called in one by one, most were dismissed. A few people didn’t come back to the room, so it was assumed they were chosen. Despite the judge getting through the potential pool pretty quickly, I wasn’t called in until about three-thirty. But at about one, another potential juror who worked in logistics and I (a project manager by day) decided to start making people queue up in their number order to speed up the process.
And that, ladies and gentleman, is why we have project managers. 🤗
When I was finally called, the administrator escorted me back to the courtroom. I was directed to walk into the jury box and the only path was to walk directly in front of the table where the defendant and his team sat.
A chill ran down my spine as he looked at me. More like a cold, empty stare. Again, I directed my focus to be solely on the judge. I couldn’t look anywhere else; I was too nervous. My stomach was doing somersaults like it was training for the Olympic gymnastics team.
The judge was very kind, warm. Understanding this was an anxiety-ridden situation. It was very apparent she wanted the defendant to have a fair trial. She asked me three simple questions, which I answered honestly:
You indicated you heard about this case, is that correct? Yes.
Can you tell me what you know? Yes — I heard about the mistrial and saw detailed headlines on the local news. I also overheard co-workers talking about the case.
What did you hear about the mistrial? That a witness called mentioned the defendant’s drug and criminal history.
She nodded and thanked me for my service, then dismissed me. It took less than five minutes. I couldn’t leave the room fast enough. I confirmed I wouldn’t be called back in for this matter and breathed a sigh of relief. I couldn’t imagine being sequestered away from home for this amount of time, especially considering the circumstances.
I hated that I felt this way about it — a person’s life had been ended too soon and the person on trial was facing life in prison (the possibility for the death penalty had been taken off the table). My discomfort for four weeks wouldn’t be a big deal in the grand scheme of things.
I went outside to decompress while I waited for my husband to pick me up and immediately started to look up details about this case. I was horrified by the details.
In 1998, Oberhansley shot and killed the mother of his child, Sabrina Elder, before attempting to kill himself. They were both seventeen. His failed suicide attempt resulted in a bullet being lodged in his brain. According to The Salt Lake Tribune, “doctors said the 17-year-old had given himself a partial lobotomy.” Oberhansley had admitted to being under the influence of drugs (some reports say meth, others are vague about which substance) and not in his right mind. He pled guilty to manslaughter and attempted murder, and was sentenced to serve fifteen years in a Utah prison. When he was released on parole in 2012, he moved to Indiana.
It only took him eight months to be arrested for another crime: strangulation and resisting law enforcement. A month later, he was arrested again but no charges were filed… then, a month later, he was ticketed for speeding and driving on a suspended license (the charge ended up being dropped).
From what I can tell, he was only supposed to be on parole for a year. Maybe I misinterpreted or misread the reporting, I’m not sure. Seems like a short amount of time to be parole for such a crime, but I’m not an expert. The Salt Lake Tribune reported that “the day before Oberhansley’s parole was set to expire — he was charged with criminal recklessness with a deadly weapon and resisting law enforcement after a bar fight.” The bond ended up getting reduced and his then girlfriend, Tammy Jo Blanton, bailed him out.
In September of 2014, police were called to conduct a welfare check on Blanton because she had missed work. When they arrived, Oberhansley answered the door. The police were able to search the residence and discovered Blanton’s body in the bathtub under a tarp. The News and Tribune of Southern Indiana reported that the cause of death was from “25 or more sharp force injuries to the head, chest, and torso and so many more overlapping that the pathologist couldn’t be certain how many there actually were.”
From there, more was discovered at the scene. I will spare you the grisly details here, but what’s important to know is that “a frying pan, dinner plate, and utensils were among the items that tested positive for both Blanton and Oberhansley’s DNA, and the pathologist testified that a substance found on the plate was consistent with organ material.”
It took the prosecution nearly six years to get a conviction.
They weren’t able to seat the jury in my county — they had to move the jury selection just short of three hours north of where I live, in hopes people hadn’t heard about the case. That was successful; the trial was held and Oberhansley was found guilty on two of the three counts against him: murder and burglary. He was found not guilty on the rape charge, assuming that accusation was difficult to prove in the eyes of the law.
I loosely followed the trial via our state’s public courts portal where some cases are available via live stream. I read anything I could to understand the case against Oberhansley and I was shocked, saddened, and quite conflicted in the end.
On one hand — what this man did was wrong, there is no disputing that. He took another person’s life in a horrific manner. I read somewhere that he even admitted to the cannibalism, but not to killing her. But he had also killed someone else, several years ago, and fully admitted to what he did back then. He does not deserve to be free because he’s proven he can and will harm again. Should he have been let out before? I don’t know if I can make that determination with the information I’ve read, or knowing his mental health history after the suicide attempt.
Which leads me to the other hand — Oberhansley, in my opinion, probably shouldn’t be in a typical prison/jail. He needs to be in a facility that can monitor his behavior and mental issues, which appear to be a result of the bullet lodged in his brain and maybe also due to his previous hard drug use.
Oberhansley now continues to appeal his verdict (which is his right), with his latest appeal hearing having been held earlier this month before the Indiana Supreme Court. I haven’t been able to find an official update on the appeal, outside of it was held on April 6 and that a petition has been filed for the cost of appeal’s final payment. Maybe the court is still reviewing? I’m not sure how long this process takes.
I remind myself of the experience I had, and even though I wasn’t selected as a juror, going through the selection process made a lasting impact on me. When I listen or read stories now, I will still catch myself being quick to judge — quick to assign guilt or innocence without understanding all of the information of the case. It’s human nature, I think.
It’s also human nature to be fascinated by such heinous crimes and the ones make the choice to commit them. Case by case, we might be able to figure out the “why” behind it, but it’s apparent there isn’t a one size fits all answer to the issue. People kill for numerous reasons — in self defense, out of anger, accidentally, out of passion (just to name a few). Sometimes we get answers, and other times we never will. For the ones left behind (of the victims or perpetrators alike), closure may never come.
It seems impossible, but I truly hope Tammy Jo Blanton’s family has found some sort of closure with the Oberhansley verdict, after all this time.
Additional Reading:
The Salt Lake Tribune // Utah suspect in cannibal case should have been behind bars
The News and Tribune // Jury finds Oberhansley guilty of murder, burglary
Louisville Public Media // Joseph Oberhansley, convicted of killing and dismembering his ex-girlfriend, appeals sentence
WAVE // Man convicted in murder, cannibalism case sentenced to life
People // Mistrial Declared in Case of Man Accused of Killing Ex, Eating Organs After She Broke Up With Him
Law & Crime // Indiana Man Who Dismembered Ex-Girlfriend and Ate Her Brain Appeals Life Sentence for Murder