“Most New Yorkers” have an opinion about subway crime. Does this affect Daniel Penny's jury?

A retired attorney who lives in Yorkville with her husband and their little golden retriever. A woman from Lincoln Center who works in marketing and teaches yoga. An East Village software developer who reads the New York Times and plays video games.

These are some of the Manhattan residents who will decide whether a former Marine is guilty of manslaughter and involuntary manslaughter for putting a homeless man in a chokehold on an uptown F train in May 2023. Prosecutors, defense attorneys and a Manhattan judge spent nearly two weeks selecting 12 jurors and four alternates for the high-profile trial of Daniel Penny, the 26-year-old white man charged in the death of Jordan Neely, a 30-year-old black man schizophrenia, is accused. The final jurors were selected Wednesday and their identities will remain anonymous. Opening arguments are scheduled to begin Friday morning.

Penny said Neely was screaming on the subway, trying to subdue — not kill — Neely and protect frightened passengers. Prosecutors argue that Penny was reckless with Neely's life. A video that captured several minutes of the chokehold went viral and became a Rorschach test. Some praised Penny as a hero for frightened subway riders, while others protested the death and called on prosecutors to file charges.

The case touches on some of the most personal and politically charged issues facing New Yorkers: subway safety, homelessness, mental illness and race, to name a few. Over days of intense questioning, Judge Maxwell Wiley and attorneys for both sides interviewed dozens of people about their personal experiences and deeply held beliefs, hoping to find 12 jurors and four alternates who can listen to the evidence impartially and reach a single verdict.

“What we need is your unequivocal assurance that you can be a fair and impartial juror in this case,” Assistant District Attorney Jillian Shartrand told potential jurors Monday. “Can you assure us of that?”

Many nodded and vowed to follow the facts and the law as lawyers repeatedly asked them versions of the question. Others wavered as they shared personal stories of harassment on the subway or praised family members who served in the military.

“I don’t know if I could be impartial about this,” said a native New Yorker who lives in Midtown East with her cat. “Sometimes I feel like people should intervene when they see a woman being harassed.”

She was released soon afterwards.

More than 100 prospective jurors filed through Wiley's 13th-floor courtroom in Lower Manhattan. Some read books as they waited for their numbers to be called, others leaned forward in their seats and listened intently to the questioning. Reporters and members of the public, including Neely's father, filled the few extra seats at the back of the courtroom. Up front, Penny sat quietly next to his defense attorneys, craning his neck toward the jury box to watch the testimony.

Assistant District Attorney Dafna Yoran described Penny to prospective jurors as a “nice young man” with “very good” intentions.

“But,” she said on Tuesday, “he went way too far.” He went way too far and took another life unnecessarily and unjustifiably. And that’s what I want you to think about.”

Penny's defense attorneys often referred to their client as “Danny” and emphasized that he was presumed innocent. They also hinted at other possible causes of death that they might mention at trial, including, they said, that Neely suffered from sickle cell anemia and that he may have had drugs in his system when he died. They described Neely as “threatening” and “threatening.” Attorneys also urged potential jurors not to rush to a verdict as their deliberations continue into the Thanksgiving holiday.

“I don't think it gets much more serious than what's going on in this courtroom,” defense attorney Thomas Kenniff told prospective jurors.

“Most New Yorkers have experienced this.”

After spending several days whittling down the jury pool to those who could sit in court for six weeks at a time, the judge asked potential juror after potential juror the same questions. Some inquiries were more innocuous, such as asking where the jurors lived and whether they had served on a jury before. Others were more closely related to the case.

Wiley asked everyone whether they took the subway – and if so, how often. Many said they frequently use public transportation, while one Chinatown resident said he had stopped taking the train during the pandemic. A SoHo man said he hasn't taken the subway since the 1980s.

The judge also asked the subway riders whether they had ever witnessed an outbreak of violence or felt personally harassed or threatened. Many said yes, and some told stories of people yelling at them, being near them, or pushing them.

“Most New Yorkers have experienced this at least once in their lives,” said one man, who told the judge he felt threatened on the train but was not particularly afraid and moved to another car at the next stop.

A woman who lives in Chelsea said someone hit her on the subway a year ago and that the experience affected her ability to be fair. She was fired.

Since Penny was in the Marines, Wiley asked everyone if she or anyone close to them had ever served in the military. Several said they were veterans or mentioned family members who served. Kenniff asked if anyone might be biased for or against Penny based on his service. A prospective juror with a relative in the Marines said, “No, sir.”

The judge also asked everyone if they had any personal connections to drug addiction, mental illness or homelessness. A number of potential jurors admitted this was the case. An Upper West Side woman told the judge that her niece had been hospitalized for psychotic attacks. A Harlem man said his son is in therapy and has been arrested twice for driving while impaired. A military veteran who now lives on the Lower East Side said she has been homeless in the past. None of them made it onto the jury.

Because Penny was white and Neely was black, race was also part of the discourse surrounding the case and was discussed during jury selection. According to pool reports, prosecutors on Wednesday morning accused Penny's lawyers of illegally striking people of color from the jury. Prosecutors said eight of the nine people the defense excluded on discretionary grounds were people of color. It is illegal to remove jurors based on their race.

Penny's lawyers called the accusation “outrageous” and cited reasons other than the race of the prospective jurors, including that a man close to the Green Party might not be favorable to her case and that a homeless woman might sympathize with Neely Pool reports.

The judge decided to let the strikes stand and the questioning continued.