Jurors André Dubois, left, of Woonsocket, Colleen Murphy of East Providence, and John A. Cassidy III of Cranston.

The Providence Journal / Kris Craig

They were given a task that some of the state’s highest officials couldn’t settle: sorting through who bore blame in the confrontations that grew from the state police raid on a Narragansett Indian smoke shop in July 2003.

And on April 4, a jury of seven women and five men returned a verdict in Superior Court, Providence, that pointed the finger at both sides, at least to a degree.

The nine jurors interviewed in the past week were unanimous about another fact as well: the ugly incident that pitted state police against the state’s only federally recognized Indian tribe shouldn’t have happened the way it did.

The jury of educators, a grocery store clerk, a senior citizens activity director and others knew little about the controversial raid at the outset of the six-week trial. By its end, after watching hours of news video and hearing from 25 witnesses, they knew intimately the events of July 14, 2003.

At least five jurors were so angered by what they learned that they plan to press the state’s congressional delegation to investigate the manner in which the state police executed the search warrant, around midday with customers and children at the scene, and why no troopers faced assault charges.

“I feel, at my age, it’s my duty to follow this through,” said John A. Cassidy III, 61.

Governor Carcieri — at Attorney General Patrick C. Lynch’s advice — ordered state police to execute a warrant to stop the Narragansetts from selling tax-free cigarettes. Seven adult Narragansetts, largely the tribe’s leaders, were arrested after a violent scuffle erupted as dozens of troopers surged onto tribal land in Charlestown. Those seven were tried on 17 misdemeanor charges, one of which Judge Susan E. McGuirl dismissed after the prosecution finished its case.

Arriving at a verdict on the 16 other counts was a long, hard road, jurors related in conversations and e-mails last week. Many became so consumed by the trial they couldn’t sleep more than four hours a night. It was their first thought in the morning, their last each day. Friends and acquaintances tried to badger them with opinions when they figured out which trial they were serving on.

Some couldn’t shake certain video images played throughout the trial. The forewoman, Heather M. Tompkins, of Barrington, was disturbed by tape of a police dog biting tribal Councilman Hiawatha Brown as he lay handcuffed, face down on the ground. Cassidy, of Cranston, remains troubled by clips of the arrest of another defendant, Bella Noka, which he referred to as “abuse.”

The case still occupies some jurors’ thoughts and dreams.

“It’s been on my mind a lot,” said Steven C. Knowlton, 55, the principal at Cranston High School West, who, like others, worked at night to keep up with his day job during the lengthy trial. “It keeps creeping into my mind.”

JURORS DESCRIBE a light-hearted relationship among themselves that turned south as soon as deliberations began the afternoon of Tuesday, April 1. Two camps formed, one calling for acquittal, the other for guilty verdicts all around, with the remaining jurors somewhere in between.

“Everybody had to work through being mad at the governor, at the state, at [Narragansett Chief Sachem] Matthew Thomas, and at some point for being forced to decide about this angry dispute,” said Donald A. Reese, 43, of Providence.

Tears, yelling, swearing and accusations erupted in the cramped deliberation room. The jurors couldn’t even leave the court- house for lunch.

“It was the worst experience of my life,” said Annette V. Lamaire, 63.

It seemed two jurors had their minds already set on guilt, said Lamaire, a Stop & Shop cashier who lives in Woonsocket. “I didn’t know some people could be so prejudiced.”

She became so upset that at one point she had an outburst other jurors later congratulated her on.

“I couldn’t take no more. I couldn’t take no more of their logic.”

“Nobody wanted to walk away feeling like our conscience had been violated,” said Reese, an English teacher at Brimmer and May School, in Chestnut Hill, Mass. “Our consciences were telling us different things.”

BY WEDNESDAY, April 2, the jurors seemed on the verge of a stalemate. They asked Judge McGuirl for clarification on the law regarding self-defense. Moments after McGuirl addressed them with the admonition that they couldn’t take the ball and leave the playground, a frustrated Tompkins sent the judge a note saying they were deadlocked.

“Go home. Clear your heads,” McGuirl told them. “You’re in the best place to make a decision that anyone can be.”

McGuirl gave the jury instructions Thursday morning, April 3, for a second time about how they should evaluate the charges. She urged them to talk more and to listen to each other, saying, “You need to keep your minds open.”

Instead of considering each defendant as a whole, jurors recall, the jury began dissecting each charge individually. Jurors made their cases for and against convictions, with their perspectives as varying as their zip codes.

“I believe it was not an easy task for some on that jury to grapple with the realization that it wasn’t our job to ‘send a message’ to either the tribe or the governor and state police,” said Catherine Carpinelli, 45, who lives in Providence and works for Blue Cross & Blue Shield of Rhode Island.

André Dubois, 35, said he argued for the assault charges. “Even though a police officer is wrong, you don’t touch a uniformed badge,” said Dubois, a pest control worker and part-time security guard.

Charge by charge, however, they gained ground, though they occasionally split 11 to 1. They returned to some counts over and over again. They revisited testimony, with many finding discrepancies in most of the troopers’ recollections.

Reese said he went home discouraged after the first few days of trial because he believed the troopers were “outright lying or inventing another story,” possibly under orders. “None of them were forthright, which was rather depressing.”

A couple found Thomas equally evasive, but most believed most of the testimony of the other tribe members who took the stand. A review of video clips, however, revealed some inconsistencies, Reese said, adding, “It was hard to believe any of the witnesses, really.”

“I think Matt Thomas and the Narragansetts knew the state police were coming down there,” said Knowlton, of Burrillville. “I found fault on both sides.”

By Thursday night, when they headed home, a verdict seemed in sight.

MOST OF THOSE interviewed said they liked lead prosecutor Pamela Chin, and found amusement in her occasional struggles to run video from her laptop. They were split on the effectiveness of Special Assistant Attorney General Maria Deaton’s closing argument, with some noting that she referred to the movie Pretty Woman while defense lawyers quoted Martin Luther King.

Defense lawyers Kevin J. Bristow, William P. Devereaux and Gary Pelletier outmatched the prosecution in resources — such as their massive video screens and sophisticated equipment — and in skill, several said. They largely praised Judge McGuirl.

In the end, it came down to the video footage and photographs of the alleged crimes — a rarity at criminal trial. For instance, video showed that Hiawatha Brown looked directly at Trooper Ann Assumpico and shifted his weight as he leaned against a door while her arm was in it, they said. The jury found Brown guilty of assault and disorderly conduct, while clearing him of resisting arrest.

“If all I had was testimony, it would have been a lot harder,” said Dubois.

But, several said, Assumpico was the fuse that lit the incident off by breaking into a run as officers entered tribal land. “She’s the one who made the place go wild,” Lamaire said.

In addition, the jury found Thomas guilty of assaulting a trooper, while finding him innocent of disorderly conduct and resisting arrest. The jury convicted First Councilman Randy Noka of disorderly conduct, while clearing him of resisting arrest.

Four others — Bella Noka, Councilman John Brown, Adam Jennings and tribal conservation officer Thawn Harris — were exonerated. The jury acquitted the Narragansetts of 12 counts in all.

Asked why they cleared the Narragansetts of all resisting-arrest charges, Reese explained it was because of the excessive force used by troopers — particularly in light of the minor nature of the underlying charge of selling unstamped cigarettes, for which no one ended up being arrested.

“I would’ve let everybody go, but you can’t have anarchy,” said Cassidy, a former Marine who works in home improvement. He described the raid as “an awful, awful attack.”

But, he conceded: “Both sides did wrong.”

THOSE INTERVIEWED agreed the verdict was hard-fought but ultimately fair. Yet some hesitancy lingered.

“For the most part, I went along with everybody,” Knowlton said. “Am I completely satisfied? I would say yes. The verdict is indicative of fault on both sides.”

He remained perplexed about the way the raid transpired, stating — as did other jurors — that the troopers and tribe members were pawns in a larger struggle.

“I think the whole thing was a huge mess that probably didn’t have to happen if decisions had been made differently on both sides,” he said.

Reese put it more simply: “It was a p- - - - - - contest between the governor and Matt Thomas. The governor had a bigger hammer, so he won.”

But, Reese said, “You can’t let people attack the state police no matter how wrong they were.”

Colleen Murphy, 50, a library aide from East Providence, said the verdict “didn’t settle well” with her.

“People were pushed to the point where it was inevitable for them to react the way they did,” she said.

Several of the jurors said they were sorry to disappoint Bristow and Devereaux, who many grew fond of, as well as the tribe. Several jurors recalled the tension of being individually polled about the verdict before the packed courtroom filled with state police and tribal members.

“I just hope the tribe ain’t mad at me,” said Lamaire, who cried in the courtroom as she was individually polled. “I don’t smoke but if they open their store, I’ll be the first one there.”

And one more thing most interviewed agreed on: they’ve never been so happy to be back at work.

kmulvane@projo.com