IS A BLACK MAN SAFE FROM POLICE ON STREETS OF NEW YORK CITY?

What Alton White most remembers about ``New York's Finest'' who cuffed
him and took him in for questioning and held him for five hours was
how polite they were.

There were no racial epithets, no yelling, no strong-arm tactics. It
apparently was all by the books. Everyone was so nice that one of
their black detainees got up off his knees and let an officer in the
front door with his cuffed hands.

White is the star of ``Ragtime.'' Last July he was stopped in his
apartment building as he was on the way out to the bank.

He and three other African- American men were cuffed and taken into
custody for five hours by police who had been told two young Hispanic
men were dealing drugs in the lobby. There, he was strip-searched and
forced to miss his evening performance, even though police had not a
shred of evidence to suspect that he was involved in drug dealing or
any other crime. He was so upset he could not return to the cast for
several days.

Somehow it makes it worse that the police were nice about it. They see
no problem in what they did. ``A man's home is his castle'' may be one
of the most powerful principles of English-speaking law. But a
roundup in a respectable apartment lobby - a place where jazz legend
Duke Ellington used to live - seems to be a price some are willing to
pay for law and order.

Daren Briscoe of Media General and I hopped up to New York to take
White to lunch.

White was born and raised in the projects in Cincinnati. ``I always
had nothing but complete respect for the police,'' said White. His
mother, who encouraged his acting career, was ``in disbelief ...
stunned'' when he phoned her.

Alton White doesn't seem much of a threat to public safety. He is
soft-spoken, tall and athletic with an engaging smile of a performer
who wins nightly ovations in the role of ``Coalhouse,'' which he has
played for three years. There is not a whisper of militance, anger or
even edginess in him, only an overhanging sadness as he talks about
what happened to him and the other black men in the lobby of his apartment.

``My life is changed by this,'' White said. ``There is no way I'll be
the same.''

The New York media have reported this story, but have obtained few
answers from the overseers of Mayor Rudolph Giuliani's New York
plantation, where African- Americans say ``breathing while black'' can
land you behind bars. If the offense against Alton White had happened
in today's Mississippi or Alabama, would it be treated with such easy
tolerance?

Giuliani has cleaned up the city and made it a nice place for all
people to go. The polls indicate his ratings are up despite a series
of offenses against people of color.

The networks headquartered in New York go to Haiti to report on abuses
of the justice system, but don't seem interested in the abuses now
taking place under their noses. New York Times col umnist Bob Herbert
has tried to keep this story alive, and the Los Angeles Times thought
it important enough to put on the front page. But mostly, it has been
ignored.

We went to the ``three-three'' - the 33rd precinct police headquarters
where White was held - to try and understand why the police feel they
can swoop into a respectable residence and hand cuff every black
person they see. The public affairs sergeant professed to know nothing
and said all the records had been shipped downtown. But, when the
situation was described, he said what happened to White was perfectly
normal when someone calls the police and reports two suspicious
characters in an apartment lobby and there are two kilograms of
cocaine in their possession.

WHITE WAS GLAD he didn't blow up or lose his temper or break anything
while he was in the cell, because it would only have made things
worse. But the police apology when they were done didn't help matters
much.

``You fit the description,'' he was told as he was released. ``You
were in the wrong place at the wrong time.''

``I don't look Hispanic. I don't look 17 to 21.'' he replied. ``And I
was in my own apartment building.''

He and the three other men refused a ride and walked the 25 blocks
back home - back to their castle - trying to console each other and
make sense of the burden they must bear in New York in 1999 because of
the color of their skin.