Martin Whitfield

The state Supreme Court has agreed to review a lawsuit filed against a gun maker by a police officer wounded in the 1997 North Hollywood shootout. The lawsuit by former officer Martin Whitfield claims negligence by Heckler & Koch Inc., which made the gun used by assailant Emil Matasareanu, attorney John P. McNicholas said Monday. Matasareanu and Larry Eugene Phillips Jr. robbed a Bank of America and then died in one of the most dramatic shootouts in city history.

The state Supreme Court has agreed to review a lawsuit filed against a gun maker by a police officer wounded in the 1997 North Hollywood shootout. The lawsuit by former officer Martin Whitfield claims negligence by Heckler & Koch Inc., which made the gun used by assailant Emil Matasareanu, attorney John P. McNicholas said Monday. Matasareanu and Larry Eugene Phillips Jr. robbed a Bank of America and then died in one of the most dramatic shootouts in city history.

Just two days before the first anniversary of the North Hollywood bank holdup, a Los Angeles police officer who was permanently injured in the dramatic gun battle with the two robbers, sued the bandits' estates Thursday and the manufacturers of the assault weapons they used.

Just two days before the first anniversary of the North Hollywood bank holdup, a Los Angeles police officer who was permanently injured in the dramatic gun battle with the two robbers, sued the bandits' estates Thursday and the manufacturers of the assault weapons they used.

Most of the 10 officers wounded in the gunfight with heavily armed bank robbers in North Hollywood escaped serious injury. Eight were treated and released and two were still hospitalized Friday night, police said. The most seriously injured was Officer Martin Whitfield, 29, of the Van Nuys station, who underwent surgery for a broken right leg, glass in his chest and shrapnel in his left side, arm and chest. Whitfield has been an officer for six years.

A former police officer who was seriously wounded in the North Hollywood bank robbery shootout testified Friday that rescuers were unable to reach him for at least half an hour because of persistent gunfire. "I was thinking about dying," said Martin Whitfield, who walks with a limp as a result of his injuries. "I was shot four times, and nobody was coming to rescue me. All I could hear was the automatic gunfire."

Patrol officers from four Los Angeles police divisions began their first three-day, 12-hour workweek Sunday as part of an experiment that officials hope will boost morale and decrease burnout. The new schedule--unlike the usual five-day, eight-hour-a-day week--will cut department costs, decrease commuting hours, allow officers more time with their families and, they hope, curb burnout. "It's a morale booster. . . . It makes for happier employees, which makes for better service," said LAPD Capt.

More than a year after the North Hollywood shootout in February 1997 left two robbers dead and 11 police officers hurt, the most seriously wounded officers--Martin Whitfield and Stuart Guy--are too injured to work but are without pensions or other police in comes. Since their Injured On Duty pay, which lasts a year, ran out last month, the officers have been living on $465 a week in state workers' compensation payments.

Patrol officers from four Los Angeles Police Department divisions, including one in the San Fernando Valley, began their first three-day, 36-hour workweek on Sunday as part of an experiment that officials hope will boost morale and decrease attrition rates. Under the yearlong program, officers at the Van Nuys, Rampart, Wilshire and Harbor divisions will take the new 12-hour shifts while detectives work four 10-hour days.

Re "Suit Tarnishes Anniversary of Bank Shootout," Feb. 28. I object to [Stephen] Yagman's verbal assault on the LAPD. Anyone can sue anybody for anything. Have at it, Mr. Yagman. But the final court of appeals will be the people. On that infamous day, the people witnessed the truth. That truth is that every LAPD employee who wears a badge or is connected with a badge deserves to be called a hero. Civilians who put their lives on the line should be called heroes, too. You, Mr. Yagman, seeking notoriety and money, are playing to the few who take advantage of a wounded legal system.

Nothing, we are told, is new under the sun. But if there is a correlation between sunshine and not-newness, then this must be especially true in sunny, cliche-hardened Southern California. Here in the city that made Jack Webb say, "This is the city," the televising of true crime long ago eclipsed make- believe as a source of . . . well, not entertainment exactly, but certainly dreadful fascination. The helicopter video you have just seen is true.

Somehow, Sgt. Larry "Dean" Haynes, a Los Angeles police officer for 16 years who had never before fired his weapon in a confrontation, survived. Somehow, Haynes escaped from a furious gun battle with a robber armed with an AK-47. And somehow, Haynes is home in Canyon Country today with his wife and two sons, recovering from a bullet wound to his shoulder and a graze on his leg.