JOLIET, Ill. -- John Wayne Gacy sputtered, heaved against six leather restraints, then died in absolute silence early Tuesday at the Stateville Correctional Center.
An autopsy found nothing remarkable, and the cremated remains of the 52-year-old serial killer were turned over to his family members.
Funeral plans were secret, according to Gacy's last wishes. "He doesn't want people desecrating his grave," says defense lawyer
Greg Adamski.
The death of one of the nation's most notorious serial killers - Gacy was convicted 14 years ago in the sex slayings of 33 young men and boys, most of whom were buried in the crawl space beneath his home - seemed to satisfy law enforcement officials.
"Justice was served," says former prosecutor Bill Kunkle, who witnessed the execution.
But relatives of Gacy's victims seemed less than sated.
"The whole time, I was thinking how much we suffered, and this guy got a needle," said Richard Szyc, whose son, John, was the third body unearthed at Gacy's house. "It'll never be finished for us. "
Many of the 23 family members at Joliet were angry because they weren't allowed to witness the execution. They were kept in a basement room and provided a portable TV to watch the newscasts.
"It's just something we needed for closure," says Tim Nieder, whose brother, John Mowery, disappeared in 1977.
Gacy's last words admonished the warden: "Taking my life won't compensate for the lives of others. This is only a state murder."
Gacy was pronounced dead at 12: 58 a.m. in an execution that took 18 minutes - twice as long as expected - because of a clog in the line hooked to the lethal injection apparatus.
The execution began at 12: 40 a.m. with the first thunk of the plunger on the lethal injection machine as 34 witnesses and 10 prison officials stood by.
The intravenous line jumped as a double dose of sodium pentothal coursed into Gacy's right arm to anesthetize him.
His body heaved and he gasped, slightly pursing his lips. His eyes remained closed. His clenched fists went slack.
A second thunk of a plunger cut through the silence. The minutes ticked by. Then the curtain in the theater outside the chamber was closed.
Many of the witnesses assumed it was finished. A phone rang. From somewhere in the theater, someone whispered, "It's too late for that now."
Behind the backlit cloth, shadowy figures moved wordlessly to replace a shunt connecting the IV catheter in Gacy's right arm and the surgical tubing from the machine.
The second drug, pancuronium bromide - intended to stop Gacy's breathing - had jelled, clogging the apparatus and blocking a third drug, potassium chloride, that would stop Gacy's heart. "He was probably already gone at that point," says Corrections Department spokesman Nic Howell.
When the curtains were pulled back, Gacy's skin was blue. More minutes passed, more thunks, and the curtain was again drawn. The witnesses began to chatter nervously.
One man, who refused to give his name, gave a hearty thumbs-up to another man seated in the front row.
Convicted in 1980, Gacy spent more than 14 years on death row. He spent his last day at Stateville visiting with eight family members, including his two children.
He ate a final meal of fried chicken, shrimp and fresh strawberries, purchased for $ 18.21 at the Catcher's Trap restaurant here.
He spent his last hours alone, in a barren cell, 30 feet from the execution chamber.
Two hours after the execution, Vito Mazzara, whose brother, James, 20, disappeared a month before Gacy was caught wondered if anyone would mourn Gacy. It wouldn't be Mazzara.
"Gacy should be cremated and his ashes dumped in the garbage," he said.
