‘I Never . . . Beat on Nobody’ : Defendant Miller Says He Didn’t Hit Denny--and Saw No One Else Attack Trucker

Antoine Eugene Miller, one of three principal defendants charged with beating truck driver Reginald O. Denny, admitted Thursday that he was part of the crowd that swarmed around Denny’s vehicle. But Miller said he never hit the trucker and that his back was turned when the beating occurred.

“I never in my life beat on nobody,” Miller told The Times and Channel 9 news in an interview, the first public comments made by any of the defendants in the highly charged case. “I didn’t see the other defendants do anything. I would never testify against them.”

Miller’s lawyers, who sat in on the interview and stopped him from answering some questions, had previously told a judge that Miller was going to testify against his co-defendants, Damian Monroe Williams and Henry Keith Watson.

Based on assertions by lawyer James R. Gillen that Miller would testify against the others, an appellate court last month granted Miller’s request to remove the judge who had been assigned to hear that case.

But Miller insisted Thursday that he had never intended to implicate his longtime friend Williams or Watson.

“I didn’t even see the man (Denny) get beat,” said Miller. Miller added that although he was only four or five feet from Denny when the trucker was beaten, his back was turned and he did not see who did it. “I didn’t even know that happened to him.”

After the interview, Gillen said his client had once indicated a willingness to testify but had changed his mind. “He has now taken the position that he is not going to testify,” Gillen said.

Miller--a shy, baby-faced 20-year-old whose criminal history includes a variety of small-time offenses but no assaults or other crimes of violence--said he reluctantly agreed to be interviewed because his lawyers believed that it would help his case. Miller also said he was moved by a recent televised interview with Denny--touched and surprised to learn that Denny bears no grudge against his attackers.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry about what happened to him,” Miller said. “I’m hoping he’s all right now.”

The interview with Miller took place in a jail visiting room at the Peter J. Pitchess Honor Rancho, where Miller and his co-defendants are locked down in “supermax” confinement, the highest level of security at the jail. Six sheriff’s deputies escorted Miller, in handcuffs and shackles, down the long corridor to the room. Miller’s restraints were removed while he met with reporters.

Miller spoke haltingly and was occasionally overcome by emotion, especially when asked about the deaths of his grandparents. Family friends have said Miller’s grandmother shot and killed his grandfather when he was 12 or 13.

“If my grandmother and grandfather was living, I wouldn’t be here,” he said at one point, hanging his head and looking away. “I’d probably be in college.”

Instead, Miller was at a friend’s home on the afternoon of April 29 when a Ventura County jury returned not guilty verdicts against the Los Angeles police officers charged with beating Rodney G. King. Miller said he had not followed the case closely but was dumbfounded by the verdicts.

After the verdicts were read, angry people streamed from their houses and a commotion began at Florence and Normandie avenues.

“Some people was out there because of the verdicts. Some people were out there because of Latasha Harlins . . . (and) because whites keep getting off,” Miller said. “I heard people out there saying they were taking action now.”

Miller joined the crowd in the intersection, and he admitted Thursday that he jumped up on the side of Denny’s truck when it pulled to a stop. “It was the heat of the moment,” Miller said.

Denny was inside, Miller added, and was dazed because rocks or other objects had broken the windshield and bloodied him. In a statement that he gave to police shortly after he was arrested, Miller said he jumped up on the truck because he wanted to steal the vehicle or anything inside it. He was asked to elaborate on that statement Thursday, but his lawyers stopped him from answering.

Although lawyers for Williams have suggested that Denny provoked the attack by yelling racial slurs from his truck, Miller insisted he never heard Denny shout to the crowd.

“I didn’t hear him say anything,” Miller said. “I didn’t hear it.”

Instead, Miller blamed the Denny beating on the truck driver’s timing: “If it wasn’t him, it probably would have been somebody else.”

Like his co-defendants, Miller faces attempted murder, torture, aggravated mayhem and robbery charges. Videotapes of the beating do not show Miller hitting Denny. But he is charged with aiding and abetting the other attackers. All could spend the rest of their lives in prison if they are convicted.

In the interview, Miller said he is hopeful that he will be acquitted of the charges. But he believes that he and his co-defendants are being “railroaded” and that a fair trial may be impossible.

“Because of my color,” Miller said. “Everybody I talk to, my friends and my people out there, they tell me they feel they’re going to try a railroad.”

As the case against Miller and his co-defendants has worked its way through pretrial hearings, some community supporters have taken to calling the defendants the “L.A. 4,” a reference to these three men and one other arrested the same day. Partisans often show up in court to express their support for the men.

Miller--who said he spends his days alone in his cell, overwhelmed by all that has happened to him--added that he is tired of the moniker and of the political commotion enveloping him and his co-defendants.

“I ain’t no ‘L.A. 4,’ ” he said, shaking his head in exasperation. “I’ve never heard of no ‘L.A. 4.’ I’m Antoine Miller.”