COLUMN ONE : Looking for Faces With No Names : More than a year after the violence at Florence and Normandie, police say dozens of suspects remain free. Many were captured in photos or videos, but no one will come forward to identify them.

In the dozens of videotapes and photographs documenting the beating of Reginald O. Denny, one man stands out for the sheer viciousness of his attack.

Wearing a T-shirt with a portrait of Malcolm X, he emerges from the crowd of rioters and delivers a kick to Denny’s face as he lies bleeding on the pavement. With a claw hammer, he bashes Denny three times in the head. Finally, as the battered trucker struggles to his knees in an apparent effort to plead for help, the man administers a final kick that knocks Denny back to the ground.

In voluminous police files on the 1992 rioting at Florence and Normandie avenues, photographs of the man in the Malcolm X T-shirt, dubbed “MX,” are as clear as if he had sat for a family portrait.

But more than a year later, MX is still walking the streets. No one in law enforcement has any idea who he is.

MX is one of dozens of attackers at Florence and Normandie who have managed to elude capture because no one has stepped forward to identify them and police have been unable to track them down on their own.

Several of the unidentified suspects are responsible for some of the most brutal and bloody attacks against at least 53 identified motorists, passersby, emergency personnel and journalists.

Police know these attackers only by terse, sometimes brutal descriptions that go with the casework: “The man who threw the white plastic oxygenator,” “The man who pulled Denny from his truck,” “The man who hurled an ax.”

Despite the piles of photographs and videotapes, police have arrested only eight people in connection with the violence that occurred April 29, 1992, at the beginning of the riots.

The intense focus on the arrested suspects has created the impression that just a handful of men may have committed crimes at the infamous intersection.

In reality, those alleged acts were only a part of the violence that spread through the area that day.

Investigators have counted dozens of rioters involved in the most brutal attacks, captured by news photographers and camera-carrying bystanders. But the effort to identify more suspects has been hampered by diminishing resources and an overwhelming workload.

In the nearly 16 months since the riots, the task force investigating crimes committed at Florence and Normandie has dwindled from 22 to five. The remaining investigators have had to dedicate virtually all their time in recent months to preparing for the trials of the arrested suspects instead of pursuing new leads.

A thornier problem has been the silence of residents. Many may recognize suspects, but they will not identify them. Law enforcement agencies have held news conferences to display suspects’ photographs and, at one point, plastered the city with billboards, encouraging people to call a toll-free hot line with information.

“I wish I knew the answer,” said Arthur Daedelow, the Los Angeles police detective in charge of the Florence and Normandie investigation. “It’s been a mixed response.”

In the neighborhood around the intersection, some residents say their hesitancy to come forward stems from a fear of retaliation.

Others answer in bitter and angry voices, reflecting the continuing chasm between police and community. “Let them go out there and find them on their own,” said Donna Brown, 26, who lives a few blocks from Florence and Normandie and, like others, says she knows some who were at the intersection. “I wouldn’t tell them anything.”

Of all the cases, few have been as frustrating for investigators as that of MX.

The shots of his face are some of the clearest from the scene; his crimes are some of the most brutal and violent of the day.

According to court documents, MX appears by Denny’s body after the trucker had been thrown to the ground by one unidentified man and struck with a metal-and-plastic oxygen tank by another. MX assaults Denny three separate times.

“Other than the actual blow of the brick to Mr. Denny’s head (by another suspect),” prosecutors wrote in court filings, “probably the most chilling, and telling, aspect of the sadistic nature of the attack upon Denny was MX’s running up and administering the karate-like kick to the head as Denny was on his knees, covered with blood, appearing to reach out as if pleading for help.”

Daedelow said he believes that MX lives near Florence and Normandie because photographs and videos show him at the corner from the earliest moments of the violence.

“There is no question in my mind that many people know who this guy is,” Daedelow said, noting that MX’s picture has appeared several times on television. “I am very surprised we haven’t identified him yet.”

Another suspect who was clearly visible is known simply as “the man with no shirt.” Police have been able to track him from one crime to another as the rioting unfolded.

Daedelow said the shirtless man participated in a rock attack on a bus and car. He grabbed a purse out of another passing vehicle and is seen splitting the loot with a rioter across the street.

“This guy, he’s everywhere,” Daedelow said.

The problem in finding MX and the other suspects is that even with the vast amounts of information police have gathered, there is no simple way of tracking them without their names.

Because of the confusion and trauma of the assaults, many victims do not remember the faces of the people who attacked them. Even Denny, whose beating was one of the most widely broadcast scenes from the riots, says he has no memory of the incident.

Over the course of a year, investigators have collected 52 videotapes, 28 binders of police reports, a file cabinet full of documents and boxes of newspaper articles on the attacks.

Some residents have provided important information in the case, but the response has largely been lukewarm.

“We get some leads, but not as many as we’d like,” Daedelow said.

In the neighborhood of neat stucco bungalows surrounding Florence and Normandie, it’s no surprise that the police have not been overwhelmed by calls. Although many residents deplore the violence that swept the intersection, there is also a deep ambivalence.

“They don’t cooperate with us. Why should we cooperate with them?” asked the Rev. John Saunders, a 70-year-old Baptist pastor who lives in the neighborhood. “Who is justice for? It’s not for us.”

At the core of this bitterness are the cases of the eight men who were arrested by police last year.

For supporters of the group, dubbed the “LA4+,” the cases symbolize the treatment of African-Americans by the justice system.

The eight have been described by some as victims themselves--in this case, of unreasonable bail, excessive charges, a racist witch hunt. They have become scapegoats of a system looking to mete out quick justice, supporters say.

Four of the eight defendants have pleaded to a variety of charges and have been sentenced to prison.

Opening arguments are scheduled to begin Thursday in the trial of two of the most prominent defendants, Henry Keith Watson and Damian Monroe Williams.

“Everyone wants to blame them for everything,” said Williams’ mother, Georgiana Williams.

“There were a lot of people getting beat down, but they can’t get them all, so they get these two,” said Donna Brown. “They’re trying to prove a point, that we can’t win.”

Although Daedelow contended that the investigation is “still at full swing,” he conceded that the search for suspects has been temporarily set aside as detectives deal with the crushing workload of preparing for the trial of Watson and Williams.

With nearly 175 potential witnesses and 53 identified victims, he said his group has been swamped by the logistics of trial preparation.

“A lot of people don’t understand what it takes to prepare,” he said. “It’s massive--diagrams, photos, videos. . . . We’re not, at this point, trying to solicit leads. But if someone were to walk into the station, we wouldn’t shoo them away, either.”

Daedelow said he expects that more arrests will be made after investigators get past the trials of Watson and Williams.

Under the statute of limitations, investigators have until 1995 to press charges against other suspects from Florence and Normandie--plenty of time in the realm of investigations, he said.

But he added that even with more time and resources, some attackers may never be caught.

One of the more difficult cases is the attack on Fire Department Battalion Chief Terrance Manning as he passed through the intersection in a city vehicle.

His car was bombarded by a barrage of rocks and bottles like “a giant hailstorm,” he recalled.

As Manning and an assistant driving the car moved through the intersection, a man stepped from the curb and buried a pickax through the car’s roof.

Because of the commotion, Manning, who was not injured, said he could not identify his attacker. Daedelow said there is no footage of the man either.

“I seriously doubt we’ll find him,” he said.

Nor did any photo or videotape clearly capture the face of the man who stole an oxygen tank from a truck stalled in the intersection and used it to bash Denny in the head.

“I don’t ever recall seeing his face,” Daedelow said. “But I think someone out there knows who he is.”

He said what may prove to be his most powerful tool in persuading residents to identify suspects is the trial of Watson and Williams.

During the trial, prosecutors are expected to show a variety of video and photographic evidence, detailing the scope of the attacks on the first day of the riots.

Daedelow said the footage will show that it wasn’t just Denny who was assaulted but perhaps as many as 100 people of all races who were passing through the intersection.

“Every day, all people hear about is Denny,” he said. “But now they will see the Bejars, the Maldonados, the Tarvins beaten and robbed in the street. It was brutal out there.

“When people see what really happened, I truly hope our phone is going to start ringing.”