SCANDAL STIRS A GRIM SPECTRUM OF EMOTIONS

Anger, Dismay Are Common Reactions

But many say most officers are honest.

From a busy San Fernando Valley bookstore to a ragtag corner of
Watts' Jordan Downs housing project, from a laundermat on a gritty
Pico-Union corner to an upscale Westwood flower shop, runs a current
of dismay about the deepening Rampart scandal in the Los Angeles
Police Department.

It flickers in the words of business owners in suburban Northridge and
central city Westlake, police supporters who want the department to
maintain an aggressive stance against crime and who fear that the
investigation could weaken that resolve.

It flashes explosively in the language of South-Central and Pico-Union
youths and immigrants who tell firsthand of police beatings and
intimidation and how their complaints were long ignored until one
corrupt officer turned against others.

It echoes in the bewilderment of Crenshaw professionals and Eastside
parents who see the feuding among government officials over the
Rampart investigation and wonder if the justice system will ever
punish all the guilty.

In dozens of interviews conducted across the breadth of Los Angeles,
residents responded to the scandal with emotions as varied as the city
itself. One thing they were not is indifferent.

The reactions were a kaleidoscope of anger, frustration, lost faith,
helplessness and resentment. Sometimes all of those welled up in the
same person, tumbling out in streams of conflicting emotions.

But the overriding sentiment was of a breach of trust.

"What kind of a message does this send to children?" wondered Sharon
Tucker, a 40-year-old graduate student who was sitting outside a
sun-splashed Westwood Village restaurant recently.

Tucker said she had always taught her sons, now 20 and 14, to trust
police and cooperate with them. But in Rampart's wake, "how are they
going to respect police?

It says everything is up for grabs."

Los Angeles may not be a city that fosters fervent politics and mass
rallies. Still, Rampart has seeped into the consciousness of all sorts
of citizens, the severity of reaction reflecting the differences in
how everyday lives are lived in this ethnic and geographic octopus of
a city.

Angelenos have read or heard a daily barrage of allegations offered up
to investigators by ex-Officer Rafael Perez about the Rampart
Division's anti-gang CRASH unit: young men beaten and shot unjustly
and at least one permanently crippled; false police reports; doctored
crime scenes; perjured testimony; and drug dealing.

Add to this an untamed mentality among rogue cops, including their own
skull and crossbones tattoos, that mimicked those of the gangsters
they were chasing.

Yet many residents maintain that those revelations are smearing the
vast majority of Los Angeles police who are honest.

They say the allegations only reinforce their impression that the
average cop faces perilous duties day in and day out and must be
allowed latitude to keep neighborhoods safe.

Business Owner Finds Officers Courteous

Walter Prince, a civic activist who runs a janitorial service in
Northridge, said his business has been burglarized three times in the
past six months and each time the responding officers proved to be
professional, thorough and courteous.

"I like the cops," said Prince, 64. "And I feel sorry for all the good
ones out there--and most of them are good--because of what those bad
apples down in Rampart have done. I guess it's a sympathy thing.

On the whole, these guys are just so darn impressive. You just don't
see many cops these days that you say, 'Man, I want to turn that guy
in to his supervisor.' "

Law-Abiding Citizens 'Have Nothing to Fear'

Bob Wooldridge, the owner of a Westlake hardware store, said the
stakes are even higher in his neighborhood, where he credits Rampart
police with reducing prostitution, drug dealing and gang violence.

"Some of us are willing to give up our rights, like with random
searches," said Wooldridge, who has lived in the area since 1961. "If
you're a law-abiding citizen, you have nothing to fear from the police."

"We couldn't keep our [store] door open during the day," said his
wife, Bertha, who, after she was robbed at gunpoint in 1992, helped
form a Neighborhood Watch group called the Westlake Protectors.

"We're not going to let eight years of work go down the drain because
one or two people screwed up," she said, referring to corrupt
officers. "If [police] get rough, it's probably because the gang
members deserve it."

But consider the scene that played out recently a few miles away.
Resentment toward what many in low-income neighborhoods view as
high-handed enforcement surfaced during a manhunt near Rampart
Boulevard and 6th Street last week. Rampart officers confronted a man
who allegedly bit one of them and tried to run away. As the police,
with guns drawn and German shepherds aiding them, chased the suspect,
scores of residents stood behind yellow tape watching the drama.

When the man, 23-year-old Walter Hamilton, emerged from an abandoned
building in handcuffs with a gaping, bloody gash on his head, the
anger in the crowd was palpable.

Police said they found a handgun on Hamilton, and he was charged with
assault with a deadly weapon.

But for many spectators, that wasn't the whole story.

"That's not right," Janet Ramirez, 19, said as Hamilton was carted
away by paramedics on a stretcher. "Look at how [messed] up they left
him. They didn't have to treat him like that."

Charlotte Jackson, a 48-year-old nurse, added: "Good ol' Rampart. They
can't get enough, can they?"

Leeland Willis, 22, quipped: "He's lucky he's not knocked cold. I
guess the Rampart Division is under too much heat now to do that."

These are streets where crime is common and frequently brutal and
where the response of police is sometimes equally blunt.

But many residents in poor neighborhoods said they felt little comfort
from the anti-gang CRASH patrols, which were recently disbanded in
response to the scandal.

Kicking back with a group of young friends in a South-Central
frontyard on Century Boulevard, an area served by the LAPD's 77th
Street Station, Shannon Sims talked about one CRASH officer who had a
menacing tattoo on his forearm.

"He was showing it to us and was like, 'This is my gang. This is where
I come from,' " said Sims.

For Sims and his buddies, the alleged Rampart misdeeds were no
surprise. Sims said the officer who flashed his tattoo tried to set
him up by "putting weed on me." He was arrested on suspicion of drug
possession, he said, and then offered a deal by the police to inform
on a friend wanted in another case.

Eventually, Sims said, the court threw out his case because of a lack
of evidence.

More common than alleged police misconduct were reports of more
everyday slights and grievances such as traffic stops.

Scandal Comes as No Surprise

Anthony Sykes, a financial manager for Fox Family Channel in Westwood,
said he's never had difficulties with police in that neighborhood.
However, he said that may be because he always wears a suit and tie to
work.

As an African American, Sykes said he has endured numerous unwarranted
stops and interviews by police in other areas of the city,
particularly in his younger days.

Sykes, 35, who lives in Hollywood, said he wasn't so much shocked at
the Rampart disclosures as he was surprised that it eventually
surfaced in public.

"The people who are shocked by this have been living in the dark," he
said. "I think it's great that it's finally being exposed.

It's opening people's eyes, and I hope that now there will really be a
change."

White Angelenos said they too have been witness to police
abuse.

Their testimony is an indication of how strongly personal experience
can color perceptions of authority.

Shane Garrett lauds the efforts of local police when it comes to
safeguarding his tiny flower shop in Westwood Village. Just six months
ago, officers recovered a prized topiary that was dragged off from in
front of his shop one night.

Nevertheless, the 30-year-old business owner said he's always had a
low opinion of law enforcement in general, and Rampart has only
reinforced that view. He related an incident from 10 years ago, when
riot police, he said, overreacted in quelling disturbances in Westwood
accompanying the opening of a film on gang life: "I had 50 people
trapped in my store and the police had their batons out. A few people
got beat up."

Police supporters--in poor barrios as well as wealthy enclaves-- say
the department is being unfairly smeared and they fear that sinking
police morale will make it impossible for the overwhelming numbers of
good cops to do their job. What is most important, they say, is the
security of their families and businesses.

Many Fear Abuses Are More Widespread

"I think the police are doing a good job," said Yolanda Martinez, 48,
a school crossing guard in Boyle Heights, a working-class,
predominantly Latino neighborhood east of downtown.

Each day she shuttles schoolchildren across a busy Cesar Chavez Avenue
intersection. The neighborhood police she sees have a good
relationship with residents and store owners.

And she said she was not bothered by the Rampart revelations.

"There's a lot of danger around here," Martinez said. "The police are
doing a good job protecting people from it." Nevertheless, many
citizens feel that police abuses must be more widespread than in a
single clique of officers at one station.

Even those who support the rank and file say there have been too many
cover-ups, and too much incompetence in the Police Department's
internal investigations.

"When you look at the system, you see it's busted," said Prince, the
owner of the Northridge janitorial service. "It's time to stop
sweeping problems under the carpet and get some good
leadership."

For many Angelenos, Mayor Richard Riordan and Police Chief Bernard C.
Parks are major parts of the problem. "I think it's so bad that they
don't want to admit how bad it is," said Berlenn Cohall, a nurse who
was with a group of out-of-town friends having lunch at the Baldwin
Hills Crenshaw Plaza. "I heard Parks on a television show saying they
didn't need anybody from outside to look into this. But my theory is
that if you're not involved, you should be happy to find out what's
going on. It's hard for the police to look at themselves."

And many who are critical of the department were doubtful that the
scandal would lead to sweeping changes.

For them, the culture of the thin blue line is too
ingrained.

"It means cleaning out the department, top to bottom; that's what it
takes," said Michael Pipkins, 47, a businessman who commented while
visiting a Crenshaw-area art boutique. "They need separate,
independent civilian oversight.

That's the only way to get to the bottom of it."

He and many others also voiced a sense of futility. "For many people
in my community, everyday indignities and even brutality is so
prevalent that it has taken the life out of us," said Pipkins, who is
African American.

A march to protest the handling of the Rampart investigation drew
about 200 activists to downtown Los Angeles on Wednesday, a far cry
from the thousands who have packed New York streets in recent months
in response to the police shooting of African immigrant Amadou Diallo.

But 69-year-old retiree Doris Haynes said people in Los Angeles are
more ready now to speak out about the scandal.

"The citizens in the community should have some say," she said,
working on a crossword puzzle in a nook of the Baldwin Hills mall.
"There should be meetings in every community.

We need to get together to talk about all of these things going
on."