COURT DEALS GENTLY WITH ANGUISHED FATHER'S CRIME.

Byline: Michael Gougis Staff Writer

Martin Hernandez waited nervously in the back of the courtroom until his name was called. Then he gave his attorney a big, heartfelt hug and walked over to the bailiffs, who led him through a side door and into custody.

Shooting cases do not often end the way this one did Friday in San Fernando Superior Court.

Hernandez, 40, of Panorama City, an immigrant who built up a successful landscaping business with a clientele who trusted him, was surrendering to serve time for hunting down the man he believed had raped his daughter and shooting him three times.

He had pleaded guilty to a charge of assault with a firearm and was starting to serve 180 days in county jail. An eight-year state prison sentence was suspended, although he must undergo at least one year of anger management counseling.

``Yes I'm scared, I'm nervous,'' said Hernandez, a slight man dressed in black jeans, a striped buttoned shirt and cowboy boots, before being led away.

``I've never had any problems with the law before. It's too long in jail for me. But I don't know if I would do anything any differently.''

The case was unusual from the beginning.

Late last year, Hernandez, a father of four, overheard his daughter telling her brother that she'd been raped.

The daughter had come over to Hernandez's home, looking for her brother to find some friends and help her get back at the 25-year-old man she said had assaulted her in a van at the Sepulveda Recreation Park.

Enraged, Hernandez grabbed a handgun, hunted down the alleged assailant in the parking lot at Pacifica Hospital, fired three shots into the man's abdomen, then turned himself in to hospital security.

Up until the November shooting, Hernandez's life was pure working class, a Horatio Alger business tale laced with common familial problems.

Born in Michoacan, Mexico, Hernandez graduated from sixth grade and came to the United States in 1977, when he was 14.

He spent the rest of his teen years picking strawberries and working odd factory jobs. About two decades ago, he started his own landscaping business. Judging by the letters of support sent to the court - letters from doctors, dentists, professors, company CEOs, school principals, some of whom have known him for 20 years - you would have been lucky to have Hernandez as your landscaper.

Phrases like ``gentle man,'' ``reliable and trustworthy'' and ``never missed a day of work in years'' pop up frequently in the comments of those who know him.

``He is like a member of the family,'' wrote Santa Monica attorney Herbert Rubenstein, who said only two people outside his immediate family had the access code to his home property - and that Hernandez was one of them.

Hernandez split from his wife in 1998. His two boys lived with him. On the outside, things appeared to be going pretty well.

But inside, Hernandez had his own troubles.

Eight years ago, he was driving when he was involved in an traffic crash that killed an uncle who was close to him. Grief led to depression, according to court documents, a depression that was compounded by the breakup of his marriage. He readily admitted to a psychiatrist that he had days when he felt like crying.

The doctor noted that Hernandez was ``emotionally volatile'' but concluded that the shooting was an isolated incident.

Hernandez's attorney, Deputy Public Defender Jonathan Petrak, said the same.

``I've never worked with anyone who had so many letters of recommendation,'' Petrak said.

``The relationship between father and daughter is special. When someone injures your child, a temporary animal rage can overcome any father. What he did wasn't legal, but it was understandable.''

The man Hernandez shot survived and never was charged with any criminal wrongdoing. He said the sexual encounter with Hernandez's daughter was consensual, something the girl denied vehemently in court records.

``He ruined my life,'' she wrote.

CAPTION(S):

2 photos

Photo:

(1 -- color) Martin Hernandez sits in San Fernando Superior Court on Friday before going to county jail for shooting the man he believes raped his daughter.

(2) Public Defender Jonathan Petrak says goodbye to Martin Hernandez of Panorama City before his jail term begins.

John McCoy/Staff Photographer