Jerry Ganas Jr. is no cream puff.

He's been around, been in and out of prison, has taken falls for dope, guns, assault, and has sometimes slipped off the grid. His older brother was killed by a police officer and his 22-year-old son was murdered in a drive-by shooting.

Six feet and 190 pounds, Ganas doesn't rattle easy.

But there was one time, he says, he was "scared, really scared." Around 2 o'clock on a Sunday morning he was driving his 30-year-old van on Palm Avenue just off Auburn Boulevard when two sheriff's deputies pulled him over for no reason he could discern.

Within minutes, he was sitting handcuffed in the back of a cruiser. The deputies were demanding he admit using methamphetamine, and one of them was holding a .25-caliber semiautomatic revolver within 2 feet of his temple, Ganas recalls.

"It clicked; it dry-fired," he says. "It was pointed at my head. You know, I ain't stupid. I've been in the game. I know what I seen."

That was a year ago. On Friday, attorney Stewart Katz filed a federal lawsuit, alleging violations of Ganas' constitutional rights to be free of torture, excessive force, and unreasonable search, seizure and detention.

Named as defendants are deputies Matthew Tamayo and Donald Black, Sacramento County and Sheriff John McGinness. Which deputy allegedly pointed the gun at Ganas' head is not spelled out in the suit.

Black has a long history of excessive force, and numerous citizens have been compensated for damages caused by his conduct, according to the suit. He was once a sergeant but was busted back to deputy.

It alleges the county "has paid over $1 million as a result of Black's malfeasance. It is believed that he is the only million-dollar man still with the department."

Black is under investigation and on paid administrative leave in an unrelated matter.

Ganas, 48, is seeking compensatory and punitive damages in unspecified amounts.

In or out of prison, he took what came his way and dealt with it. A scornful laugh is his answer to whether he ever cut a deal by snitching.

Nor, he says, has he ever complained about a police officer. He made an exception, however, in the case of Tamayo and Black. Against the advice of family members, he filed a citizen complaint with the Sheriff's Department.

He didn't feel right about it, he says, but "that dude's going to kill somebody."

"We could not support the claim of the complainant," McGinness said Friday. "Both deputies denied it, and there is no independent corroboration of his story."

Neither deputy could be reached for comment.

"I've had guns pulled on me before and it's been all right," says Ganas. "But this dude scared me. You know, he had that look in his eye when he pulled that gun out."

Despite Ganas' repeated denials, the deputies demanded that he tell them where he hid his meth and name his supplier. An officer produced a gun and told Ganas he found it in the van. He pulled the clip out, slid it back in, and then slid the hammer back to put a bullet in the chamber, according to Ganas' citizen complaint.

He quotes the deputy: "Since it's your gun, you wouldn't play Russian roulette, since you know that is a bullet in the chamber."

Ganas told him to pull the trigger if that's what it would take to convince him the gun was not his.

"And the dude pulled the trigger," says Ganas. "Two feet. It's pointed in the back window at me. At my head."

He then demanded, "Take me to jail," figuring he would be safe there.

"They say, 'See this dope in this cup?' " indicating a cup the officers had removed from the van during a warrantless search. "And I say, 'What dope? Let me see.' And before I can see, they slung it. They … told me, 'It's your lucky day. Get in your car. Get out of here.' "

One of the deputies "said he would kill me if I went back on the streets again," Ganas recalls. There were no charges and no report.

"As a result of this incident, Ganas lived in fear, afraid to leave his own home," the suit recounts. "He canceled doctor appointments and his health deteriorated. He also sold his van for fear that if he crossed paths with these deputies again they would recognize him, harass or even kill him."

Call The Bee's Denny Walsh, (916) 321-1189.