ALTHOUGH the judge entered and everyone stood in proper respect, the room never quite possessed the docorum usually attributed to a court of law. Hoffman and Rubin continued to wander around at will, amusing themselves and the spectators with their anties.

The first official court business was the showing of three films made in Chicago during the convention. The defense wanted to have these entered as evidence, and it was necessary to submit them to the judge before allowing the jury to see them.

In an ordinary court of law it would seem that marshals of the court would be responsible for setting up the projector and screen equipment, I laughed as Tom Hayden entered the courtroom with the screen rolled up under his arm. A young woman wearing black pants, a work shirt, and a big black floppy hat took charge of running the projector.

Defense exhibits 351 and 352 were films of interviews with various movement leaders who stated that they were not planning a revolution and had tried to gain protest permits but were turned down. The third film was actually made a short time after the convention; it showed interviews with Rubin and Dillinger which explained some of the philosophies of the socalled subculture, and included a few highlights on women's liberation.

Much debate followed on the admissibility of the three films. The prosecution objected to the first two because they could have been manufactured before the convention for the sole purpose of covering up the defendants' true intentions. The defense argued that the defendants were charged with using national radio and TV to incite a riot. And these films were, in fact, shown on national TV at the time of the convention, which countered the charges against the defendants. But it was "Objection sustained," and the films were thrown out.

The third film was also thrown out as evidence on grounds of irrelevancy. The defense submitted to another "Objection sustained," but pleaded with the judge that this film was truly relevant, if only for the fact that "it showed the state of Jerry Rubin's beard"- a former point of contention. The judge agreed to allow as evidence one frame of the film which showed the jury that valuable fact.

"Trial by peers" was certainly far from the case at the Chicago Conspiracy Trial. The jurors paraded in, and I could not help wondering if any of the defendants had a hope of winning the case. All but one of the jurors were women. They all looked like over-the-hill matrons who could not possibly understand the motivations or feelings of the defendants.

The defense attorney rose to call his first witness of the morning. Through a side door a black man with an Afro haircut entered the room. His friends, the defendants, immediately rose and joyfully shouted, "Bobby!" Bobby Seale, former defendant, was back in the courtroom, this time as a witness. His manner was mocking in its overpoliteness, and he managed to interject a few comic remarks despite the close observation of the judge and prosecution.

AT FIRST he was almost too quick to answer the question put to him. He began replying even before objections were made by the prosecution (and sustained by the judge). The judge explained to Seale that he should not be so quick to answer. "Well, would you say I should wait maybe three seconds before answering?" quipped Seale.

"Yes, that would be fine," agreed the judge.

One question that Scale was asked (and one of the few that raised no objection) concerned his occupation. "I'm chairman of the Black Panther Party," he explained.

"And what does that job entail, Mr. Scale?"

"Well, I'm a comedian," was part of his answer.

It was approaching 12:30 and lunchtime, so the judge excused the jury with the usual warning that they should not read newspapers or magazines or talk among themselves about the case. He then turned to Scale, who was still on the witness stand. "Mr. Scale, I also caution you against communicating with any person whatsoever."

Leaving the courtroom, we purchased tickets to Hair , ate lunch at Plato's Place, and walked to the subway station. On the way, Dave wondered whether he really wanted to go to law school, and I hoped that flying standby back to Boston would be no problem.