Complaints About a Crackdown

By SYLVESTER MONROE LOS ANGELES

Lying facedown in the dirt -- the place where young men netted by the Los Angeles police department's vaunted antigang sweeps frequently wind up -- Javier Gonzalez, 18, watched in terror as an officer slammed Lewayne Williamson's head into the ground. "The cop asked if he was in a gang. Lewayne said no and was hit," Gonzalez recalls. "He said no again and was hit again. By the time they got to me, five or six people had already been whacked." Fearful of being beaten, Gonzalez blurted yes when asked if he was a gang member. Over the next two hours Gonzalez was tripped and shoved, called a "beaner," asked if he had a green card and told to get back on the predominantly Hispanic east side of town. Gonzalez and Williamson were released without charges.

Last month Gonzalez, who plans to attend college this fall, and 25 other Hispanic and black teenagers filed a $5.2 million suit against the L.A.P.D. claiming that their constitutional rights were violated during that incident in a Pacific Palisades park last February. The suit, which asserts that none of the detained youths were gang members, is the latest in a swelling number of complaints charging that the L.A.P.D. and Los Angeles County sheriff's officers' much publicized all-out war against gangs and drugs is being waged indiscriminately on law-abiding black and Hispanic citizens.

The most common targets of an alleged epidemic of police brutality are teenage males, whose very age and color make them suspect. "It's open season on youth as far as the police are concerned," says American Civil Liberties Union attorney Patricia Erickson. "When it comes to probable cause, youth, especially minority youth, are guilty until proven innocent." But critics say that even adult residents of gang-plagued neighborhoods occasionally have become victims of curbside justice dispensed in the name of fighting crime.

Charges of an increase in excessive police force were recently borne out by a Los Angeles Times investigation. Last May the newspaper reported that 151 excessive-force lawsuits were filed against the sheriff's department in 1989, nearly double the number five years ago. It also disclosed that over a three- year period ending last September, Los Angeles County paid $8.5 million to settle brutality suits against the sheriff's department.

The settlements included a $1.75 million payment to a 55-year-old woman who was shot in the stomach during a 1981 drug raid on her Lake Sherwood ranch and a $500,000 payment to a former movie-studio employee who suffered back injuries and was disabled after he was allegedly kicked by a deputy sheriff for failing to follow instructions promptly when stopped for a traffic violation in Marina del Rey in 1982. In 1983 Charles Porter and his wife were leaving a restaurant in City of Commerce when they were detained by deputies investigating what turned out to be a false alarm for a robbery. According to Porter, he was repeatedly clubbed by a deputy and his wife was struck with nightsticks. Says Porter, a 58-year-old, white, retired maintenance worker: "I objected to the deputy's swearing at my wife, and I didn't stand exactly where he told me to stand. That's all it took." Five years later, the Porters received $57,500 to settle a suit they brought against the department.

L.A.P.D. records, which do not list excessive-force complaints separately, show an overall drop in claims and lawsuits against the 7,900-man force since 1985. But statistics from the Police Misconduct Lawyers Referral Service, a nonprofit civil rights advocacy group that counsels police-abuse victims, suggest the department's figures are misleading. The group's executive director, Karol Heppe, says the agency receives more than 200 police-abuse and rights-violation complaints each month. L.A.P.D. spokesmen concede that the department's reputation for no-nonsense law enforcement is justified. But they deny charges of widespread overaggressiveness or brutality. "L.A. is a city that gets talked about for its professionalism, proficiency and toughness," says police lieutenant Fred Nixon. "But there is no policy within this police department that allows for the abuse of anyone." Richard Shinee, general counsel for the Association of Los Angeles County Deputy Sheriffs, contends that it is law-enforcement officers who are the targets of increasing violence. "Los Angeles is the capital of gang warfare throughout the country," says Shinee. "If you look at what's happening in the street -- the lack of respect for authority, police attacked with automatic weapons and assault rifles -- how can you expect that violence associated with law enforcement is going to decrease?"

Critics reply that cracking down on gangs is but the latest in a long list of official excuses for the rough-and-ready justice that has become routine in minority neighborhoods. In 1982 the L.A.P.D. was forced to ban the controversial bar-arm choke hold they had been using to apprehend suspects after several people died while in custody. Contends Don Jackson, a former police sergeant in the suburb of Hawthorne who has become a crusader against racially motivated police brutality: "They don't have white kids sit on the curb when they talk to them. They don't have white men and women put their hands out of the car and dump the contents of their pockets and purses on the car. What they get away with is intentional violation of these people's civil rights."

The L.A.P.D. claims it has the support of crime-ridden minority communities for the harsh crackdown on the gangs. But residents retort that whatever support they give the police stems from their even greater fear of trigger- happy gangs. Says Regina Jones, a black publicity consultant and former police department radio operator who lives in South Central Los Angeles: "People are frightened of the police, but they are more frightened of our own youth." Epigmenio Alvarez, a factory worker, complains that roadblocks set up by police to disrupt the movement of gang members and drug dealers in mostly Hispanic East L.A. have been a mixed blessing. "The narcos close this street today, and the droguros move to the next one," he says. "Meanwhile, my kids, who are all clean, get harassed and frisked by a different patrol every day."

Because Los Angeles has no civilian review board to investigate excessive- force charges against the police, most victims believed they had no way to seek redress except to take the officers to court. But the current spate of lawsuits and settlements seems to be spurring lackadaisical city officials into taking a closer look at the problem. In January, after repeated clashes between black Muslims and police and sheriff's deputies climaxed in the shooting death of a 27-year-old member of the Nation of Islam, community outrage forced a series of sensitivity sessions with top L.A.P.D. and sheriff's department commanders. Last month, Mayor Tom Bradley ordered a police commission investigation of alleged brutality during a violent clash between police and striking janitors that resulted in 40 arrests and 16 injuries. Even teenagers are starting to believe they can do something. L.A. Youth, a citywide high school newspaper, ran a front-page story last month on police abuse of teens. It included a special "clip and save" column explaining minors' rights and offering advice from lawyers on what to do when stopped by police.