ACTIVIST SOFTENS OPINION ON JUSTICE

Fifteen minutes after a Santa Clara County grand jury indicted a state
narcotics agent in the shooting death of his brother, Raul Cardenas bent
down and kissed the steps of the old courthouse downtown. ``There is
justice,'' he said, framing a V with his fingers.

At 59, Raul is the patriarch of the Cardenas clan, 16 years his slain
brother's elder. For a week, he attended every grand jury session clad in
black, his shirt decorated with a United Farm Workers pin and an American
flag, his brother's death report in a battered manila file that he clutched
in his hand.

Somewhere along the line, he underwent a conversion from confirmed doubter
to cautious believer in a judicial system trying to find the reasons his
brother was killed.

That change reflected one of the chief benefits of the extraordinary
weeklong session of the grand jury: Regardless of the outcome, it was a
truth Commission, a chance to see a tragic case in all its chaos, all its
humanity.

In the moment that Raul kissed the steps Wednesday, whether narcotics agent
Michael Walker, 33, would ultimately be convicted was secondary. Against
what Raul saw as overwhelming odds, a jury of 18 people had found reason to
try a state cop who shot Rodolfo ``Rudy'' Cardenas in the back Feb. 17.

The point was not simply that justice was done: There was enough evidence to
indict Walker. More important, it was seen to be done. Had the grand jury
come back after a private session -- indictment or no -- prejudices on both
sides would have festered.

As it was, we got a glimpse of how tragedy unspooled: an unwise flight by
Rudy Cardenas, a series of fatal assumptions by state agents, the quiet
professionalism of San Jose police. Even Walker, whose story sounded
strained on a stage controlled by the prosecution, didn't come across as a
monster. He'll have another day in court.

A moment in history

For Raul Cardenas, Wednesday was a moment of history in a place he knows
well. Though he lives in Bakersfield now, caring for his elderly mother,
he's spent a good part of his life here. His family moved to San Jose in the
1960s, not long after he graduated from high school in McAllen, Texas.

Raul was the oldest of seven and was responsible for helping raise his
younger brothers and sisters. He remembers his youngest brother, Rudy, as a
mischievous but likable kid. The eldest and youngest had a bond, even a
physical resemblance: Each was 5 feet 4, with the same weight, the same
mustache and the same smile.

``Rudy used to always make you laugh,'' said Raul, recalling how his brother
once fell out of a tree and broke his arm but hid in the basement because he
feared his mother's wrath. ``People just liked being around him.''

A full decade and a half older than his brother, Raul gravitated to
community activism in the 1970s -- and there is something of the old
militant about him, fondly recalling the days of the cause, sprinkling his
tales with well-chosen profanity. He remembers working with Cesar Chavez on
the grape boycott and persuading then-Mayor Janet Gray Hayes to get into a
low-rider car. He wrote a column called ``Low Writer'' for the suburban Sun
newspapers and was a disc jockey at KSJS. He grew up knowing that political
change was possible -- with a struggle.

``It's always been an uphill battle for anything we feel is our rights,''
Raul said. ``It's not handed to you. You have to fight for it.''

New perspective

When the grand jury hearing began last week, that skepticism infused Raul's
thinking. After Deputy District Attorney Lane Liroff had given his opening
statement, Raul told reporters that he thought the prosecuting attorney was
``incompetent.'' He said he expected only 1 percent justice. And with the
rest of his family, he was doubtful about an indictment.

By the end of the week, he was referring to Liroff as ``Tiger'' after his
aggressive examination of the state agents. ``I think he's done a good
job,'' Raul said. ``He's been strong.''

Yet that was hardly a predictor of how the grand jury would decide. When the
bailiffs let the audience into the courtroom at 1:30 p.m. Wednesday, they
cautioned against outbursts.

They needn't have bothered with Raul. He sat with his fingers propped
against his head, occasionally closing his eyes as he waited for the
decision. When it came, even though the details of the charges against
Walker weren't clear, he exhaled in relief. Outside, he hugged his relatives
and friends. And somewhere the old militant softened just a bit.

``I wanted to know the truth. It's never going to lessen the pain for us,
missing Rudy,'' Raul said as he left. ``But at least this is some sort of
thing that will open the gates of justice in Santa Clara County.''