His last, blinding grin startled reporters.
Strapped to a gurney, IV tubes running into both arms and moments from death, William Andrews lifted his head and flashed his toothy grin.But when he saw his sister, niece and friends watching him through a window from a nearby room, his face broke into a radiant smile. He blew them a kiss and mouthed the words, "I love you."
Family, reporters and government witnesses were ushered into three separate witness rooms shortly after 1:30 a.m. Thursday to watch the final minutes and the execution of Andrews, sentenced to die for the deaths of three people 18 years ago in the Ogden Hi Fi Shop. At 1:46 a.m., Andrews, 37, was pronounced dead, ending the country's longest stay on death row and a string of appeals to save him.
Curtains on the windows of all three rooms swept open at 1:33 a.m., revealing the barefoot Andrews clad in a white prison jumpsuit, his arms spread out.
After his first smile, Andrews laid his head back on the gurney for a moment. Then he lifted his head again and mouthed the words, "Hi, Mom," to his sister Audrey Minter Boson. Minter is 14 years older than Andrews and was a mother to him, she told the Deseret News in an earlier interview.
Andrews was alone in a whitewashed room with two prison officials. The IV tubes in his arms ran through a small opening in a wall less than a foot away from the gurney. On the other side of the wall, two executioners and Lane McCotter, director of the Utah Department of Corrections, waited for word from the Utah attorney general's office that the execution could proceed.
The two officials in the room with Andrews gathered at the gurney and asked him for his final words.
"Thank those who tried so hard to keep me alive," Andrews said. "I hope they continue to fight for equal justice after I'm gone. Tell my family goodbye and I love them."
While strapped to the gurney and waiting for witnesses to arrive, Andrews had chatted with Kim Thompson, director of the state Division of Institutional Operations.
"This has been a long haul for you, hasn't it?" Thompson asked.
"Yes," Andrews replied. "I'm actually very tired."
Thompson later told reporters, "He was calm. There was no struggle. No anxiety. Just before we gave the signal (for the execution to begin), he took a deep breath. That was, in effect, the close of his life."
But first Andrews blew another kiss at his family and once again mouthed the words, "I love you."
Thompson and a colleague signaled the unseen executioners to begin the execution at 1:35 a.m.
Less than minute later, Andrews' eyes closed and his fists - which had been partially closed - relaxed.
A moment later, his chest stopped rising.
Family, reporters and government witnesses watched as he lay motionless on the gurney for nearly 10 minutes. Thompson and Bruce Egan, deputy director of the Corrections Department, stood nearby.
At 1:46 a.m., prison physician Robert Jones entered the room, examined Andrews and pronounced him dead.
Nearly two hours earlier, six prison guards were in the process of strapping Andrews to the gurney when the prison received word that the U.S. Supreme Court had requested a delay in the execution.
Guards had strapped Andrews' legs down and had started to strap his arms when McCotter came into the room and told Andrews there would be a delay.
McCotter asked the convicted killer if he understood. Andrews said, "Yes."
"He didn't express any relief or anything visible," McCotter said.
Guards released Andrews from the gurney, and he was led back to the death watch cell some 50 feet away.
Andrews' family, reporters and government witnesses were en route to the execution chamber from a training facility across the freeway when the prison learned of the delay. Vans containing the three groups of witnesses were halted at a security checkpoint under the freeway and turned back.
When Andrews was led into the execution chamber again nearly 11/2 hours later, after the high court denied his latest request for a stay, he seemed more relaxed than he had the first time, Thompson said.
Thompson and Andrews visited for several minutes as he lay on the gurney the second time. Andrews talked with Thompson about the next life.
"He told us he thought he had it pretty well figured out and he was ready," Thompson said. Andrews described the next life as "getting on with something better than (life) was now."
Andrews did not discuss the three April 1974 murders he was dying for, Thompson said. Andrews did not mention the crime at all.
Prison officials watching Andrews during a daylong death watch said his mood swung from cheerful to meditative. At about 8 p.m., alone in his cell, Andrews broke down and wept, Thompson said.
But in the moments before he died, Andrews suggested several ways prison officials could make a prisoner's last moments more pleasant. He criticized the ceiling of exposed girders and heating ducts, coated with grimy insulation.
The ceiling was a repulsive last view, Andrews said. He talked with Thompson about the movie, "Soy-lent Green," where those who died were surrounded with music and the sounds and sights of nature.
Andrews suggested the prison paint a mural on the ceiling and pipe music into the silent death chamber, Thompson recounted.
After the execution, Andrews body was turned over to the state medical examiner's office. Andrews has requested that his body be cremated and his ashes given to his sister.
Last day in the life of William Andrews
11:20 p.m. Tuesday. Andrews was moved to the death watch cell and given a change of clothing. He slept from midnight to 2:30 a.m., paced his cell until 4:45 a.m. and slept again from 4:45 to 7:56 a.m. 7:56 a.m. Wednesday. He received his mail one piece at a time. He refused breakfast and asked only for some juice to drink. He read his mail and a newspaper. 11:48 a.m. Wednesday. Andrews received information from the Board of Pardons, which he read. He visited with his sister and niece at noon. 12:21 p.m. Wednesday. He was given his last meal, which was a banana split. He shared it with his niece and sister. 1:32 p.m. Wednesday. He continued to visit with his family and was joined by attorneys Steve Hawkins and Ashanti Chimurenga. 4:05 p.m. Wednesday. His attorneys left, but they were expected back later in the evening. He continued to visit with his family and seemed in a jovial, positive mood. 6:17 p.m. Wednesday. His family left to go to a rally at the Governor's Mansion. He visited with Bishop Heber Guertz. He then made his first phone call. 7:01 to 7:46 p.m. Wednesday. Andrews spoke on the phone. At 8:00 p.m. he seemed to be getting depressed and asked to see Bishop Guertz again. Guertz arrived at 8:15 p.m. 8:30 p.m. Wednesday. He spoke with attorneys, and his spirits seemed to be rising. 9:52 p.m. Wednesday. Andrews continued to talk with attorneys about black history and racism. 10:17 p.m. Wednesday. Andrews' attorneys notified him they were waiting for a response from 10th Circuit Court. Andrews responded with a smile, "Win, lose or draw, we did all that we could. We can't win every battle. We haven't lost yet." 11:13 p.m. Wednesday. Andrews' attorneys left. He talked to the warden and then visited with Bishop Guertz again. 11:41 p.m. Wednesday. Andrews and the corrections staff left for the execution chamber. 11:52 p.m. Wednesday. The information center received a call asking for a delay in the execution until faxed information could be received by the U.S. Supreme Court. Moments later, Andrews was escorted back to the death watch cell. 12:20 a.m. Thursday. Andrews waited on his bunk with his eyes closed and breathing deeply. 12:30 a.m. He spoke briefly with Bishop Guertz and then a prison social worker. 12:50 a.m. Bishop Guertz told Andrews the courts had turned him down. Andrews spoke to Guertz until 1 a.m. 1:14 a.m. Andrews was escorted to the execution chamber. He was declared dead at 1:46 a.m. Thursday, July 30, 1992.