COLUMN ONE : ‘They Hit Me, So I Hit Back’ : The Christopher Commission spoke of 44 ‘problem officers’ in the LAPD. Now their names have been obtained, allowing an examination of their records. Some of them speak out.

Los Angeles Police Officer Henry J. Cousine--a police ring on his finger, an LAPD tattoo on his leg and battle scars on his body--says the officers accused of beating Rodney G. King swung their batons like “little girls.”

Then he ticks off some of his own episodes of violence during a decade as a beat cop: three fights and three shootings.

“You get in my face, I’m going to fight back,” Cousine said. “You swing at me, I’m going to knock you off your feet. And you pull a gun, I’ll kill you.”

Cousine, who has been suspended a total of 170 days, is one of 44 “problem officers” described by the Christopher Commission in its landmark review of LAPD operations after the King beating.

Their names were not published in the commission’s report last year and police officials have closely guarded their identities. But The Times recently obtained a list of the names, allowing an examination of the officers’ alleged misconduct and the LAPD’s response.

Interviews and a review of lawsuits, transcripts of disciplinary hearings and job evaluations show:

* The officers were accused of a variety of offenses such as clubbing handcuffed prisoners, pushing a suspect through a window and trying to hide improper behavior. One officer said he had so many citizen complaints that he could not remember them all.

* Thirty-seven of the 44 officers remain on the police force. Although some have been taken out of the field, the vast majority continue to work in jobs that involve contact with the public. One officer works as a police representative defending colleagues charged with misconduct.

* Three of the 44 have been fired, and four have voluntarily left the department. One officer who was fired now works as a special deputy U.S. marshal. A disciplinary board strongly recommended the firing of another officer for taunting people with gang signs, but his job was saved in one of Daryl F. Gates’ last personnel actions as chief.

* Many of the officers have not received extensive psychological counseling and new training recommended by the Christopher Commission. Several said months went by before they were officially informed that they were on the list.

Using confidential personnel records, the commission listed officers who had six or more complaints of excessive force or improper tactics between 1986 and 1990 and concluded that the department “did not do enough to control or discipline these officers.”

LAPD officials said the commission provided the department with a copy of the list, ranking the officers according to the severity of their problems. But the commission report did not fully explain the criteria.

Police Department and union officials said many of the 44 were unfairly placed on the list.

“At least half” do not belong there and “it was not fair to give them the title of problem officer,” said Cmdr. Rick Dinse, LAPD liaison to the Christopher Commission.

Dinse said the department has worked hard to counsel and retrain some officers but others needed no special attention. “I am comfortable in that a careful review (of their conduct) was done,” he said.

Gates said the Christopher Commission did not take into account whether the officers worked in high crime areas, had an extraordinary number of arrests or other factors that could result in citizen complaints. “We (already) knew who the officers were who had problems and we were dealing with it,” he said.

Bill Violante, president of the Los Angeles Police Protective League, said: “The great majority of (the 44) were put back in the field. They are back out doing their jobs, and doing it the way they were trained.”

Meanwhile, the union has filed a multimillion-dollar claim against the city on behalf of several officers. It alleges that the list was seriously flawed and has damaged the professional reputations of the officers.

Several officers reached by The Times said being on the list is a status symbol of sorts. “You’re totally infamous,” said Cousine, No. 33.

But others on the list, such as Officer William B. Harkness, believe that many good, solid police careers have been damaged, if not ruined.

“The list is just an excuse to screw with officers, to cause them some discomfort,” said Harkness, No. 25. “We are dedicated, hard-working officers who do the right thing, but because of this department’s sensitivity with kissing the public’s ass . . .they look at us as troublemakers.

“But I don’t go out beating people up.”

The officers have served from five years to a quarter century on the 7,850-member force. Several have been honored for their heroism, including at least two winners of the Medal of Valor, the department’s highest honor for bravery.

Most of the officers have not been linked to high-profile brutality cases or police scandals.

For example, Officer Juan M. Torres, listed at No. 42, has gone relatively unnoticed. But he was suspended for, among other things, striking a handcuffed prisoner, urinating in public, driving while drunk, accidentally firing his gun, illegally sneaking a concealed weapon into the United States from Mexico and striking an illegal immigrant.

Others have not escaped the limelight. Officer Carl A. Sims, No. 34 on the list, was suspended for two days for making false and misleading statements to justify a search warrant for a controversial police raid on apartments at 39th Street and Dalton Avenue in 1988.

Like officers in the King case, Officer Andrew A. Teague, No. 41, was caught on videotape as he pushed a man off a porch and struck him several times with a baton. The tape was aired on television last year, and the LAPD launched an investigation that is still pending.

The following portraits illustrate the wide range of offenses allegedly committed by officers during their careers and how LAPD officials reacted:

No. 1: Officer Nick Savala

During his eight years with the LAPD, Savala, 35, received a number of favorable performance reviews and was promoted to training officer. According to one job evaluation, he was “eager, enthusiastic and motivated in the performance of his duties.”

But there was a dark side, too.

The Christopher panel, referring to Savala as “Officer D,” said his personnel file contained at least “nine sustained complaints and eight unsustained complaints for excessive force or improper tactics” in one nine-month period.

Michael P. Battle sued Savala over a 1987 incident, alleging that his nose was broken and the bones around his right eye were shattered when he was “beaten repeatedly with batons, fists and flashlights” near USC. The suit is pending.

One night in March, 1988, Savala fractured John Ware’s jaw with a flashlight while arresting him for drunk driving in the Mid-City area.

“He told me to turn around and the next thing I knew I was on the ground spitting up blood from my mouth,” said Ware, a visitor from Pittsburgh who sued the city and won a $12,500 settlement.

In a third incident two months later, Savala and Officer Leonard Mora, No. 13 on the list, allegedly beat suspected car thief Tyrone Carey after a chase. Mora and Savala were accused of kicking or striking him after he was handcuffed.

Mora was fired after a Board of Rights concluded that he “clearly acted in callous disregard” of his duties, but the Los Angeles County district attorney’s office last year declined to prosecute him or Savala because there was evidence that Carey charged the officers.

It is unclear whether Savala was disciplined in the Carey case or the earlier incidents. However, he was fired in 1989 over a fourth beating case.

Savala took a handcuffed prisoner out of a holding tank on three occasions and punched him in the head when he refused to give his real name, the department charged. Then the officer allegedly attempted to cover up the beating.

The prisoner, parolee Heyward Henegan, said he pleaded with Savala to stop beating him.

“I explained to him I had a bag on my stomach,” recalled Henegan, who was recovering from a colostomy operation. “And he said he would kick it off my stomach.”

Savala denied striking Henegan and said the prisoner cut his eye when he “struck the side of his head against a door” during questioning.

In urging that Savala be fired, Capt. Martin H. Pomeroy, a Board of Rights panelist, told the officer: “Your complaint history indicates that you have had previous lapses of judgment. . . . You apparently have not learned from your mistakes.”

Savala went on to work as a private investigator. He declined to be interviewed by The Times, except to say of the list of 44: “I knew I was on there, but I didn’t know I was No. 1.”

No. 5: Officer Jerry D. Fritz

Among his peers, Fritz has a reputation as a proactive cop, a gang expert who never shies away from confrontation and who is always looking to make an arrest.

“He doesn’t just sit in his car waiting for another call to come in,” said one of his former partners. “He goes around West Valley in a manner designed to prevent crime.”

But Ernest Menchaca Jr. remembers how Fritz, a karate enthusiast, pushed him through a plate-glass window in Canoga Park in 1981, severely cutting his right leg.

“He dragged me out of the window,” Menchaca said in a disciplinary hearing. “And he gave me a chokehold. And from there I just remember I fell to the ground.”

Fritz was cleared of misconduct after Sgt. Ruben Delgadillo told a Board of Rights that Fritz is a “very aggressive policeman.”

“He has the ability to get along with people,” Delgadillo said. “He has a good rapport with most of the gang members. I have never known him to be dictatorial with them. . . . He smiles when he talks to them.”

Menchaca sued the city and settled for $3,000. His lawyer, Eliseo Gauna, predicted more trouble ahead for Fritz. “He’s the kind of officer who loves action,” the lawyer said.

Fritz, 47, said he has had his problems with the department.

He was suspended for five days for not properly safeguarding a pipe bomb, and 10 days for smashing a computer screen in his patrol car. “I couldn’t get the thing to come on like it was supposed to, so I banged the side,” he said.

Fritz estimated that he has been the target of 30 to 35 citizen complaints. “I don’t know how many I have for sure,” he said. “There’s no sense in keeping track.”

Fritz said he was not told he made the list of 44 until almost a year after the Christopher report. He said he subsequently was put on desk duty at the West Valley station and was ordered to make one visit to a police psychologist. He said he has not been given any new tactical training.

“It pisses me off. I’ve busted my ass for 21 years,” Fritz said. “But nowadays, if you’re a good copper, either the bad guys will get you on the street or the department will. Since Rodney King, the department is always out to flat bury you when a citizen complains.”

No. 14: Officer Taroo A. Mason

In 1982, Mason--his hair catching fire--climbed a fire escape to help rescue a woman and child in a burning Hollywood apartment. For his bravery, he won the LAPD’s Medal of Valor.

Eight years later, he was fired.

During the intervening years, Mason, 45, a martial arts devotee and Vietnam War veteran, was suspended without pay for a total of 75 days.

In 1988, he was found guilty of improperly releasing drivers license information, moonlighting without department permission, being absent from duty in Hollywood and ignoring a subpoena.

As the hearing panel issued a 13-day suspension, Capt. Keith D. Bushey noted that Mason had received positive personnel evaluations in the past. “We think you are one heck of a fine police officer,” he said.

Two years later, another disciplinary board was not so kind. This time Mason was accused of 23 counts of misconduct. He was found guilty of almost a third of the charges, including engaging in sex with a prostitute while off duty and the unprovoked beating of a 40-year-old man.

Theodore Long Sr. said he had just left a doughnut shop on Aug. 11, 1989, in Hollywood when Mason suddenly “turned around and came toward me and punched me in my face,” severely injuring his eye.

“Then he came over and he wrestled me down, face down into the sidewalk and he handcuffed me,” said Long, a gas company employee. “I didn’t know why this was happening.”

Mason’s partner, Officer Kim Minton, also was stunned by Mason’s behavior. “This was the first time I had ever run into anything like this,” she said. “I went home and I had a restless night.”

Mason told the board that Long was “belligerent and cursing” so he grabbed him by the arm and Long simply fell to the ground. “I had no personal animosity toward him,” Mason said.

A number of officers spoke up in support of Mason. Officer Greg Dust said: “He’s been commended for his production, for his citations, for his aggressiveness, for his undying devotion to go out there and put people in jail.”

On the recommendation of the board, Mason was fired. Capt. Joseph C. Ladurantey told him: “Somewhere you crossed the line between being an officer who does good police work and a street person who knows the street.”

In March, 1991, Mason filed a suit seeking reinstatement to the LAPD.

Prior to his dismissal, he had started working as a special U.S. deputy marshal.

Mason declined interview requests but said that because of his expertise as a black belt in karate “the LAPD’s loss was the marshal’s gain.”

U.S. Marshal Craig Meacham said Mason was hired by a private company, then was chosen to work for the marshal’s office as a “special deputy” performing courthouse security.

Mason told the marshal’s office that he had “retired” from the LAPD, and the LAPD advised the marshals that Mason had no sustained complaints for excessive force, Meacham said.

“Officer Mason is a quiet individual and gets along well with his peers and supervisors alike,” said an LAPD evaluation of Mason in 1990, shortly before his firing. “His contacts with the community have always been positive. He also has not been the subject of any personnel complaints.”

In response to The Times’ inquiries, Meacham said U.S. marshal’s officials in Washington are rechecking Mason’s background.

No. 24: Sgt. Craig D. Lally

The West Los Angeles sergeant has the distinction of being singled out by Gates in his best-selling book, “Chief: My Life in the LAPD.” Gates devoted Page 349 to Lally, who complained that he was unfairly placed on the list of 44.

In a letter to Gates, Lally wrote that he was assigned to the elite Metropolitan Division during most of the late 1980s, where “we have the reputation of being an aggressive proactive division.” He also noted that he has made more than 1,500 arrests in his 11-year career “without a single sustained complaint” and received 57 commendations.

“My reputation as a field sergeant has been severely damaged,” he told Gates. “There is no justification to put me on a ‘problem officer’ list.”

Lally, 36, said he believes he is the policeman identified as “Officer B” in the Christopher report. But he said his complaint history does not correlate with the misconduct described in the report.

According to the commission, Officer B was accused of several acts of misconduct:

In 1982, he allegedly struck a kneeling and handcuffed arrestee on the back of the neck with the butt of a shotgun. The department found the officer guilty of using improper tactics.

In 1988, he allegedly used excessive force against a 13-year-old, but the administrative charges were not sustained.

The next year, he allegedly threw a handcuffed arrestee from a chair and kicked him in the back and head while he was on the ground. Those excessive force charges also were not sustained, the panel said, “despite corroborative medical evidence and testimony.” But Officer B was admonished for not notifying his supervisors about the incident.

The panel also pointed out that despite his complaint history, Officer B received high performance evaluations from his superiors.

He was lauded for “his calm . . . approach while dealing with the general public.” One evaluation said “he always comes through with flying colors.” Another said: “There is nothing in patrol work that (the officer) cannot handle with the utmost competence and expertise.”

Lally did not return calls from The Times.

“To look at him you would never have a hint that he could be an aggressive cop,” said one officer who has worked for Lally. “He’s very laid back and very relaxed. He comes across almost as a pansy.”

The Christopher Commission has refused to discuss individual officers. Cmdr. Dinse, the LAPD liaison to the commission, said Lally is an example of an officer whose personnel records are not consistent with the commission’s findings. “Lally is not alone,” he added.

No. 25: Officer William B. Harkness

Harkness still wears his blue uniform and gun to work every day, but instead of sitting astride a police motorcycle in the San Fernando Valley, he sits behind a desk in the Employee Representation Unit on the 8th floor of Parker Center.

The 48-year-old officer now works as a police representative defending other cops accused of misconduct.

Harkness is defending one of the bystander officers at the King beating and another LAPD officer caught up in the narcotics skimming scandal that primarily involves Los Angeles County sheriff’s deputies. He also has defended Officer Cousine, a colleague on the list of 44.

The notoriety of being one of the 44 has not prevented officers from seeking his help, Harkness said. “Nobody has ever said they didn’t want me,” he said. “Guys pick me because of my reputation. I work hard, and I like a little confrontation if I think somebody is getting screwed over.”

As a traffic officer, Harkness estimated he wrote as many as 300 tickets a month--a high number. He said his worst penalty was a seven-day suspension for screaming at an elderly woman during a traffic stop.

He said he received a two-day suspension for sneaking off to a Denny’s restaurant while working a special drunk driving detail. The penalty was light because Harkness previously had demonstrated “high standards of productivity and expertise,” according to the Board of Rights chairman, Capt. Sidney K. Mills.

But Mills also cautioned the officer that he might be “at some type of a crossroad in his attitude toward the department and toward himself.”

About nine months ago, a sergeant quietly told Harkness he was on the list. But he said he has never been officially notified by the department, nor has he been provided additional training or psychological counseling.

His only visit to the department’s psychological services unit occurred several years ago when supervisors sent him for counseling. The counselors “said I was as normal as the day is long,” Harkness recalled. “They called me ‘Mr. Wonderful.’ ”

No. 32: Officer Michael A. Falvo

Falvo is 36 years old. He has been a Los Angeles police officer for 10 years. And he has not been without controversy.

In 1987, a disciplinary board found him guilty of striking two narcotics suspects with his baton while they were kneeling in front of him, their hands behind their heads. One suspect, Ricardo Daniels, recalled that Falvo “started beating us like we were animals or something.” Penalty: 10-day suspension.

In 1989, he pleaded guilty in a Board of Rights hearing to unnecessarily kicking a man, then omitting the incident from subsequent police reports. Penalty: 20-day suspension.

Yet all the while, his police superiors were lauding his work. Falvo “usually conducts himself in a manner that inspires respect for the law and instills public confidence,” one performance review said. “ . . . (he) has a positive effect on morale and works well with his peers.”

In the summer of 1991, just a few weeks after the Christopher Commission report was released, Falvo’s actions again were called into question.

He allegedly taunted housing project residents who were outraged that a sheriff’s deputy had killed a man there the night before.

A police board unanimously concluded that Falvo flashed offensive hand gestures at the residents in a mockery of gang signs.

Cmdr. Martin H. Pomeroy told Falvo: “Your actions were so egregious, so inflammatory, so unthinking and so likely to result in serious consequences, that this single incident requires the most severe of penalties.”

The panel urged Gates to fire Falvo. But on April 21, Gates reduced the penalty to 44 days of suspension.

Gates said he saved Falvo’s job after conducting an extensive review and receiving “very, very strong” recommendations from the officer’s supervisors. “He is a very aggressive officer,” Gates said. “But he is aggressive in a very good way.”

But Gates expressed anger that Falvo sued the department to get the 44-day suspension overturned. “I’m hurt that he would do that,” he said.

Falvo, who now works in the Hollenbeck Division, refused an interview request but said of the Christopher Commission’s list of 44: “All they’re trying to do is screw us over.”

No. 33 Officer Henry J. Cousine

Hank Cousine gestured wildly and leaned halfway across the dinner table.

His forehead, stomach and wrist are scarred from encounters in police work and his other lifelong love: football. He has been named the most valuable player and captain on the LAPD’s team. He plays linebacker.

Cousine is very animated. At this moment, he is defending his former boss, Sgt. Stacey C. Koon, the supervisor charged in the King beating.

“I have a lot of respect for Stacey Koon,” he said. “Without blinking an eye, I can say that.”

As for the other three officers accused in the beating, Cousine said: “They were swinging those batons like little girls. They should have laid some good chops on him. Three or four good chops. Chop! Chop! and that would have been the end of it.”

His own run-ins as a police officer have cost Cousine 170 days in suspensions.

In 1987, he was involved in a brawl in an Arizona bar on the night before an LAPD football game. His opponents in the melee turned out to be sheriff’s deputies. Cousine was charged with felony assault against a law officer. He pleaded guilty to disturbing the peace and was fined $150. The LAPD suspended him for four days.

The year after that, he was suspended another four days for a fight while he was moonlighting as a private security guard outside of a church. During the altercation, he said, a man spray-painted his face, so Cousine knocked him to the ground and poured ammonia all over the man’s face.

And the next year he took a 44-day suspension for another fight, this one with a group of Asian-American youths after a traffic squabble. “They hit me so I hit them back. Simple as that. No harm, no foul.”

In June, 1991, a month before the Christopher report was released, he was penalized another 22 days for shoving a private security officer who was trying to arrest Cousine’s friend for public drunkenness.

Cousine said he has been involved in three shootings, all of them justified. One was a fatality--a Cuban who was frightening pedestrians on Broadway with what turned out to be a plastic gun. Asked how he felt about the man’s death, Cousine responded: “I’m only sorry he lived so long.”

Cousine said he made four visits to an LAPD psychologist after the Christopher report. But he said he was given no new training, although his captain recently told him to read the report to get ready for a test.

For awhile, Cousine was moved to the department’s public affairs section and worked on the department’s charity golf tournament. Now, he works the desk at the Southwest station, although he was called into the field during the riots and is available for other patrol duties.

“I came on this department to be a policeman and put bad guys in jail,” said Cousine, 32. “I used to love my job so much. Now I answer phones and hate coming to work every day. Now they got me doing the job of a pregnant woman.”

Officers Listed by Christopher Commission

The Christopher Commission, in its examination of excessive force in the Los Angeles Police Department, compiled a list of 44 “problem officers” with six or more complaints of excessive force or improper tactics between 1986 and 1990. The list was not released by the commission in its report last year or by the LAPD, but a copy was obtained recently by The Times. Some department administrators and police union officials contend that the commission’s research was faulty and that many officers included on the list do not belong there.

RANKING NAME STATUS* 1. Nick Savala Fired 2. Conrad R. Cota Hollenbeck 3. Stephen M. Carmona Rampart 4. Raymond A. Bennette Metro 5. Jerry D. Fritz West Valley 6. William Merchant Van Nuys 7. Leslie C. Wyeth Hollywood 8. J. Mitchell Resigned 9. Donald J. Jenks Harbor 10. Thomas J. Hickey Van Nuys 11. Abiel Barron Newton 12. Benjamin Warren Harbor 13. Leonard Mora Fired 14. Taroo A. Mason Fired 15. John P. Edwards Van Nuys 16. Donald W. Murphy Foothill 17. Pedro J. Ugarte Van Nuys 18. John A. Pasierbowicz Traffic Coordination 19. James C. Hagerty Metro 20. Maurice L. Landrum South Bureau Homicide 21. J. Herbst Resigned 22. Fernando O. Cardona Hollenbeck 23. Sean B. McGee Air Support 24. Craig D. Lally West Los Angeles 25. William B. Harkness Employee Rep. 26. Steve V. Kolb West Valley 27. Richard C. Madison South Traffic 28. Michael S. Tosti Resigned 29. John D. Williams Narcotics 30. Richard M. Womack Narcotics 31. Andrew Wunderlich 77th Street 32. Michael A. Falvo Hollenbeck 33. Henry J. Cousine Southwest 34. Carl A. Sims Retired 35. Joseph M. Doherty Air Support 36. Joe L. Moore Central 37. Jerry J. Greenfield Rampart 38. Rudy V. Vidal Newton 39. Jimmy V. Provencio Southwest 40. Scott H. Shepherd Hollenbeck 41. Andrew A. Teague Newton 42. Juan M. Torres Central 43. Rigoberto Gutierrez Foothill 44. Stephen C. Geon Northeast

* NOTE: Assignments as of summer of 1992, according to LAPD.