The San Francisco Examiner from San Francisco, California • 18

Pag 14 8.F. EXAMINER Nov. 28. 1978 'A casualty of- pressure9 From Page 1 dean cut, clean living 1 lit 'a ivi ExaminerBob McLeod Fighting to overcome the shock, Acting Mayor Dianne Feinstein vows, 'The City will continue' Sorrowful Feinstein looks ahead in the year she had received death threats. The New World Liberation Front claimed responsibility in both cases.

On December 13, 1976, a bomb was placed on a window sill of Feinstein's Pacific Heights home. The device misfired, and no one was hurt Nonetheless, she waged an active and visible re-election cam paign last fall, and once again demonstrated her skills at political infighting when she outmaneu-vered Supervisor Quentin Kopp for the board presidency. Feinstein was married for 16 years to Dr. Bertram Feinstein, a distinguished brain surgeon who died this year after a long fight with cancer. She has a teen-age daughter, Katherine.

From Page 1 the right since her first term, when she co-authored The City's landmark gay rights ordinance. She was a determined opponent of district election of supervisors, and after the system was approved she supported Proposition A in the 1977 special election. The measure would have repealed the new method of electing supervisors had it succeeded. She has become an increasingly vocal advocate of restricting the areas in which pornography stores and movies would be able to locate. Feinstein is no stranger to the dangers of holding elective office.

In March 1977, 13 holes were found shot in the windows of her Pajaro Dunes vacation home, and earlier Murders at City Hall Retracing the killer's steps Moscone family's benefits Gina Moscone, widow of the slain mayor, will receive about $41,800 in death benefits, spokesmen for The City's retirement system reported today. The sum Includes the contributions Mayor Moscone paid into the retirement system while he was in office about $14,000 plus six months salary, which is $27,798. The Moscone family also will be eligible for state workman's compensation because of Moscone's death in the line of duty. For a widow with two children the payment is $55,000 apportioned over a number of years In weekly payments from the state. Additionally, there is a $1,000 burial benefit from the state.

While the mayor, was a full-time salaried officer, the supervisors are not Thus, slain Supervisor Harvey Milk was not a member of the retirement system and survivors Milk has none would not be due death benefits from The City. When White's son was born last June, the proud father sent a bottle of wine to each of the supervisors. During each holiday season, he gave supervisors and their staff members boxes of Sees candy. White described his own values best: "Basically, I'm still a believer in the American dream that a person can do anything he wants when he sets his mind to it. "I believe in the old values especially the value of work.

The election, for example. I was determined from the beginning to prove people can raise themselves up by determination and hard work." In White's neighborhood of working class people and retired workers, White was highly thought of. "Just say that he was a hell of a nice guy," commented a retired white-haired Italian baker. "He would always wave to you, but he was busy we never talked to him much." His father and his stepfather both were firemen. Unlike other young people his age, White was no rebel.

He spent four years as a paratrooper in Vietnam. His career as a police officer had been undistinguished but as a fireman he had made his mark. He was scheduled to receive a medal from the Fire Department this Thursday for helping save the lives of a mother and trapped on the 17th floor of the Geneva Towers during a fire in August 1977. "The man still deserves the award," said Fire Chief Andrew Casper yesterday, "and we'll do it as discreetly and best we can." But it was White's reaction to his saving the mother and child at the Geneva Towers fire a year ago that upset one early White supporter and made her uncomfortable. Goldie Judge, the woman who set up the early mechanics of the White campaign, said that at "4:05 a.m.

in the morning I know because of my digital clock" she received an excited call from candidate White. "I think we got the line for the campaign," she said he told her. "I just saved a woman and a baby in Geneva towers." Judge favored sticking with "the All-American kid image," opposing the selling of the hero fireman because, she said, the fire had been "a misfortune for the other people." Over her objections, a printed copy of the White hero fireman story was left on her doorstep and that of all her neighbors the next morning. She left the campaign shortly afterward and last week, along with other onetime White supporters, was lobbying Moscone to appoint someone else to White's seat. His campaign appealed to the conservative elements, to the people who put grillwork on front windows and worried about their children's safety.

White won with 4,284 votes 30.6 percent of the votes. But early in his 10-month political career, he had problems. Meetings were called to recall him. And when, plagued with financial problems, he bowed out and then asked for his job back, there were vocal community leaders who vehemently opposed him. Although he had lost some community support, he had picked up the support of real estate interests that viewed him as a reliable friend.

As late as yesterday morning, he had not given up. Some of his staunchest supporters gathered 1,100 signatures over the weekend and went to City Hall early yesterday to present the petitions to the mayor. "All we wanted to do," said Nestari, a member of White's election steering committe, "was put the petition in (Moscone's) hand to (show him) that Dan had the support of the neighborhood." They had to settle for Moscone signing for the petitions instead. Late Sunday night, White spoke by telephone with KCBS reporter Barbara Taylor. He told Taylor he hadn't heard anything about who was going to be appointed.

Taylor responded: "Well, I can tell you from a very good source in the mayor's office that you definitely are not going to be reappointed. Can you comment on that?" White said he wasn't going to talk about it. Taylor persisted, and White hung up on A few hours later he headed downtown for his last trip to City Hall. said his baby was down for the night. Dan said to me, 'You know how that But White apparently stayed up late that night A neighbor, Stella Sorbi, noticed the lights still on at 1 a.m.

By early yesterday, White's wife, Mary Ann, was headed as usual for The Hot Potato, the french fry and baked potato concession owned by the Whites at Pier 39. At about 10 a.m., White was seen by a neighbor leaving his green stucco bungalow on Shawnee Avenue in the Outer Mission. A neighbor spotted White in a three-piece suit entering a red foreign car driven by a woman, and driving off. While reporters were phoning in stories about his replacement, White entered the office of Mayor Moscone and allegedly fired the shots that killed the mayor. Moments later he crossed the second floor of City Hall and allegedly shot and killed Milk, who had been urging Moscone to appoint someone else to the seat vacated by White.

Board President Dianne Feinstein, who had been trying to reach White yesterday morning to head off any confrontation between White and the mayor, heard the shots and feared, she said, that White had killed himself. "He went through a few months of very hard work, financial problems and a new baby," she said later. "It had triggered a sense of hopelessness" in him. Ironically, White professed strong support for gun control. Last December, he was the principal speaker at the annual convention of the Northern California Coalition for Handgun COntrool and advocated a ban on private ownership of handguns.

White's career had been fast-moving from Woodrow Wilson High School football captain to San Francisco cop, fireman and then, despite all predictions, supervisor. Now, at 32, he was facing financial problems and the first great failure of his until-then vertical career. Some said he took the game of politics much too seriously, that he was an amateur playing in the big time. "He was really politically naive," said former Supervisor Terry Francois, who owns a concession at Pier 39 about 50 feet away from White's potato stand. White, said Francois, was unable to separate personal relationships with the mayor, for example from political ones.

He couldn't see any reason why he shouldn't be reappointed because the mayor said he was doing a good job. "He saw this as very serious." In fact, he had told some people that he felt betrayed. Moscone, after all, had told White how sorry he was that White was stepping down. Then, five days later, when White, whose family and friends offered to help him pay his bills, sought his job back, Moscone told him it would be his. But the city attorney's office intervened, saying reappointment could not be automatic.

Meanwhile, District 8 residents who wanted the job moved in, and White's reappointment no longer was assured. The murkiness and the indecision and what White thought was the unfairness of it all preyed on him. Yet he hinted at it only occasionally. The rest of the time he appeared in control. "He never broke as a fireman or a policeman," said his friend Dolson.

"He was and is a person who, when called upon, was willing to risk his life. He was able to contain himself." But, said Dolson, what happened can be explained: "Dont for a minute think that inside you or me or any other person, no matter how normal we are, that we are all not capable of this. We are all capable of this." Dolson referred to war and then said, "Life is war." Indeed, until yesterday, Dan White often carried the banner of the "All-American supervisor." It was said he was as good looking as a Norman Rockwell choirboy, as wholesome as apple pie and as decent as the boy next door. "If White were a breakfast cereal," wrote The Examiner's W. E( Barnes shortly after White's election, "he could only be Whea-ties.

Color him All American From Page 1 sources, however, came some details of the fatal shootings. White apparently used the basement window in order to escape passing through the metal detector at the main City Hall entrance on Polk Street although he simply could have walked through the basement door. Supervisors have keys to that door. But White apparently didn't have his keys. He said this to the building engineer, according to various reports, and there are also reports that, later, an agitated White demanded his keys when he went to the supervisors' offices.

It is the custom of public works employees with samples for the testing lab to rap on the same window, hand in the samples and go on their way without having to enter the building. Bill Melia, who runs the lab, said he had no comment on what happened yesterday. Jeffrey Lee, public works director, said: "I can't comment. We filed a police report It may be germane to the case. I can't comment." White proceeded to the mayor's office and asked to see Mos-eone, who was about to announce the appointment of Visitacion Valley community leader Don Horanzy to White's old supervisorial seat.

Horanzy was waiting in an anteroom to see the mayor, and when White arrived Moscone's press aide, Mel Wax, greeted White and asked what he wanted. White, who did not have an appointment, said that he wanted to see the mayor and at that point Moscone stepped out of his office, saw White, and invited him into his inner office. When Moscone said he didn't need anybody else attending his meeting with White, Wax and others in the mayor's office returned to their work. According to one account, Moscone invited White in, poured him a drink, and began to explain why he his head, one in his right lung, and one in his liver. Police recovered all four slugs.

Milk, Stephens said, was shot twice in the back of the head and three times in the body, one of the bullets going through his right wrist and another through his left arm. Four of these slugs were recovered. The bullets, Stephens said, were hollow-pointed, the kind that expand on impact. He estimated that the head wounds caused almost instant death. "With the trauma teams we have now, It's my opinion that if it were not for the head wounds both of these men would still be alive," Stephens said.

Extra police were assigned to Feinstein, who now is mayor as well as president of the Board of Supervisors, and other supervisors after the shootings. Lt. John Jordan, head of the homicide bureau, announced that a team of six inspectors, headed by Frank Falzon, had been assigned to investigate the killings. Sheriff's Lt Charles Smith said White was placed in a cell by himself and that guards were assigned to keep extra close watch on him because it is expected he will suffer from "anxiety." After White was taken to the Hall of Justice he was questioned for about 95 minutes before being taken from the homicide detail office upstairs to the jail to be booked. While he was there he was visited by his wife, Mary Ann, who talked to him privately in a small interview room and then, after he was taken to be booked, left weeping.

Attorney James Purcell, who said he was called by White's wife, spent about 30 minutes with White while he was in the homicide detail office. "He looked distraught," Purcell said. "I instructed the police and the district attorney's office that they were not to comment on the case unless I was present." White today retained lawyer Gilbert Eisenberg, of the firm of Filippelli Eisenberg, to join Purcell on his defense team. Michael OToole, police public information officer, told reporters: "If you want to find out anything, go to court," meaning when the case comes up. Purcell offered no opinion on how White would plead and said it had not been determined whether he would continue to represent him.

Freitas, asked about the possibility of a change of venue. couldn't reappoint him to his old board seat. But Moscone's fiscal deputy, Rudy Nothenberg, said he saw no evidence that the mayor and White had been having drinks, and said it would be rather uncharacteristic of the mayor to drink anything but coffee in the office. The sounds of the gunfire were barely heard beyond the mayor's office. Secretary Cyr Copertini was looking out a window, thinking a car had backfired, when Nothenberg entered.

Nothenberg had seen White come out a side door to the mayor's private office. "Dan came running," Nothenberg said later. "He was flying down the hall. So I thought, well, he's through seeing the mayor." Nothenberg said he then went into Moscone's inner office and saw him lying on the floor and saw the blood. He rushed back out, shouting: "The mayor has been shot.

Call the police." Minutes later. White was on the other side of City Hall, where he reportedly said to Milk, "Harvey, may I see you for a minute?" Then there was another burst of shots and Milk was dead. Police inspector Gary Womack, who was stationed in the mayor's reception room in plain clothes, said he never saw White, and it's assumed he entered the mayor's office through one of the locked doors on the corridor as someone stepped out According to police sources, White left the mayor's office through a door to the hallway, crossing over to the supervisors' offices in Room 237. Peter Nardoza, an aide of Supervisor Dianne Feinstein, saw White enter the room and disappear down the corridor, off which the legislators have little offices. Inside Milk's office Carl Carlson, a radio newsman and old friend of the doomed supervisor, was talking with Milk.

The door was closed. according to sources, told police that White rapped on the door and asked to talk to Harvey. Milk left his office, stepping across the corridor to White's old office. According to some reports White was angry at seeing his nameplate removed from the door of his former office, but other observers noted that the nameplate had been gone since at least last Wednesday. Milk, according to one account, saw White's agitation and tried to placate him.

The pair went into White's former office, where Milk was shot. The shots, according to Feinstein, who was sitting down the hall in her office, were fired at a slow, deliberate pace. Police sources said that when White surrendered he handed over his weapon along with nine spent shells and eight live rounds. They noted that nine shots were fired to kill Moscone and Milk and that the gun would have had to have been reloaded between the shootings. There was no word from White or police on where he might have gone between the time he left City Hall after Milk was shot and the time he showed up at Northern Station, a few blocks away, about 30 minutes later.

The weapon police believe was used in the shootings carries a maximum load of six rounds. Coroner Boyd Stephens said after preliminary autopsies last night that Moscone was hit with four bullets, two in the right side of Service in rotunda for slain city officials Persons wishing to make a memorial contribution may send money to: A United Fund, 1 United Nations Plaza, San Francisco, 94102. The fund is a political and social action fund established by Mr. Milk and his friends. The Richmond District Clergy Association also will hold a special memorial and prayer service for both Mr.

Moscone and Mr. Milk at 7 p.m. tomorrow at the Park Presidio United Methodist Church, Geary Boulevard and Seventh Avenue. Carew English is handling the funeral arrangements for Mayor Moscone and Halsted Company is handling the arrangements for Mr. Milk.

From Page 1 been scheduled for Mr. Milk. They are: A "celebration of hope" at Glide Memorial Church at 6 o'clock tonight. A service at the San Francisco Opera House at 5:30 p.m. Thursday.

As part of the regular Sabbath service of Congregation Sha'ar Zahav, a memorial will be held Friday, 8 p.m., Dovre Hall, 3543 18th St. Mr. Milk's associates have requested that no flowers be sent to any of the services. This story was produced by Examiner staff writers Andrew, Cur-tin, Dexter Waugh, Malcolm Glover, Ernest Lenn, Maura Dolan, Ken Wong, Raul Ramirez and Al Cline..