Officers Revel in Their Day of Vindication : Police: After 14 grueling months they are exuberant. One attorney says defense team was able to get the jurors to look at the case through the eyes of the defendants.

It was the moment they had all been dreaming of for nearly 14 anguished months.

It was 3:15 p.m. Wednesday, April 29, 1992. Not guilty. Ten glorious times.

“A lot of my emotions had to go over my heartbeat that was pounding in anticipation,” a beaming Officer Laurence M. Powell gushed to reporters. “I am very happy. Very happy.”

For Powell and the three other Los Angeles police officers acquitted in the beating trial of motorist Rodney G. King, it was their long-awaited day of vindication.

Forget the 81-second amateur videotape of the officers striking King, and the worldwide outrage it provoked. A jury of six men and six women decided that what happened that March night in Lake View Terrace was not criminal. There was just one hang-up, but no one seemed too concerned: On one count of excessive force against Powell, the jury could not reach consensus and a mistrial was declared.

“I think we were able to do what we set out to do, which was to get the jurors to look at this case not through the eye of a camera, not through the eye of an amateur video, but through the eyes of the police officers confronting this situation on March 3, 1991,” said attorney Michael Stone, who represents Powell.

The jury and officers were called into Courtroom No. 3 at 3 p.m., but it took 15 tense minutes before the outcome was known. Judge Stanley M. Weisberg questioned the forewoman, and then methodically paged through the written verdicts. The quiet of the courtroom was interrupted only by the sound of Weisberg turning pages.

Seconds dragged into minutes, which hung like hours. The four police officers and their families could do nothing but wait--and hope.

Weisberg then instructed the clerk to read the verdicts. Not guilty. Not guilty. Not guilty. Ten times in all.

Powell’s sisters and mother wept softly in the front row, relieved, exhausted, finally able to let go. Officer Theodore J. Briseno jumped to his feet, embraced his attorney and shook his brother’s hand. The four defendants, not always on friendly terms during the trial, slapped each other on the back and offered words of congratulations.

“Everyone has been acquitted so there is no reason for bitterness,” said attorney John D. Barnett, who represents Briseno, the only defendant to testify against his fellow officers, accusing them of being “out of control” during the beating.

“It is a time of tremendous relief,” said Paul DePasquale, a lawyer representing Timothy E. Wind, the probationary officer who was fired last May for his role in the incident.

Outside the courtroom, Powell’s sister, Leanne, 22, was weeping. “I am ecstatic, so relieved,” she said, wiping her eyes.

Other relatives took sanctuary in a private waiting room off limits to scores of reporters and camera crews, but Leanne Powell chose not to hide. It was her brother’s day of reckoning, and she wanted the world to hear the good news.

“It hurts to see what they have done to my brother, to hear people telling lies about him,” said the unemployed paralegal, who lives with her brother and attended most of the trial. “He did nothing wrong. And today I saw his first real smile since March 3, 1991.”

Of the four defendants, only Powell agreed to withstand the media frenzy and talk to reporters in a second-floor briefing room set up by court officials. Asked if he had anything to say to King, he replied: “Nothing.” In hindsight, would he have handled the arrest differently? “I don’t think I can answer that,” he said. “That would be a hard one to answer.”

Attorneys for the other defendants said the emotional toll of the trial had been great on their clients, and they simply did not want to confront the media.

“He was . . . psychologically (battered) in substantial measure (and) his life was placed on hold for almost 14 months by this incident,” DePasquale said of Wind, who was accompanied by his wife in the courtroom. “Only at 3:15 this afternoon was he able to even begin to reconstruct his life in a practical meaningful way. . . . The emotional element, I think, it will be critical probably for several hours.”

Barnett said his client, Briseno, went directly home to be with his wife and children, who avoided the courthouse because of the publicity.

“He is delighted that he is not going to prison, that he is not a convicted felon,” Barnett said. “He can get on with his life. This has been a terribly traumatic experience for him. It is unbelievable the pressure that has been on him since Day One.”

Sgt. Stacey C. Koon and his attorney tried to slip out a side door of the courthouse, but a near melee ensued when he was spotted by a throng of reporters, well-wishers and protesters.

A stern-faced Koon refused to respond to questions as he and his attorney were whisked by sheriff’s deputies to a waiting car in the parking lot. The two men ignored protesters, some of whom shouted: “You’re guilty! You’re guilty!” Once in the car, attorney Darryl Mounger shifted into reverse, and high-tailed out of the parking lot.

A stream of angry protesters ran after the car, followed by camera crews and reporters.

Inside the courtroom, an upbeat Powell was taking about his plans for an evening celebration. “I am not going to tell you where it is,” he said smiling.