McVeigh's final chapter

TERRE HAUTE -- Paul Howell, whose daughter Karan Shepard died in the blast that ripped apart the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in 1995, wanted to hear words of remorse.\nThey never came.\nDefiant and stone-faced even at the end, convicted Oklahoma City bomber Timothy McVeigh remained silent as a lethal chemical cocktail coursed through his veins Monday morning. \n"What I was hoping for is that we could see some kind of 'I'm sorry,'" Howell said shortly after viewing the execution in person. "You know, something like that."\nStill, McVeigh's execution soothed Howell's grief and gave him some sense of resolution, a sentiment echoed by other relatives of victims.\n"My emotions were that it was just a big relief," he said. "Just a big sigh came over my body and it felt real good."\nWarden Henry Lappin announced that the man who took 168 lives -- and left so many other bitter and broken -- was pronounced dead at 7:14 a.m. McVeigh declined to make a final statement. \nThe decorated Gulf War veteran, who was 33 years old, instead released a few hand-written stanzas of "Invictus," a 19th-century poem about stoicism in the face of adversity.\nIt closes with the lines: "I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul."\nMedia pool representatives said McVeigh, who was responsible for the worst act of terrorism on U.S. soil, failed to show any emotion after technicians inserted a needle in his right leg. He died with his eyes open.\n"The last time I saw Tim McVeigh was in a courtroom in Oklahoma City," said Linda Cavanaugh of KFOR-TV in Oklahoma City. "He had changed markedly -- he was paler, he was thinner, he did not have the same look of arrogance."\nAfter receiving his last rites from the penitentiary chaplain, McVeigh was strapped down to the gurney and covered with a white sheet. A camera hung just above the gurney, transmitting a live feed on a closed circuit to 232 survivors and relatives of victims in Oklahoma City. \nIn Terre Haute, more than 24 people witnessed the first execution carried out by the federal government in 38 years -- including two survivors and eight family members of victims.\nAfter the restraints were secured, a needle was stuck into McVeigh's right thigh.\nThen the green curtains rolled back.\n"He deliberately lifted up his head and looked at each of us one by one," said Susan Carlson of WLS Radio in Chicago. "He took the time to make eye contact."\n"He seemed to be resigned to his fate, that this was what had to be done, that what happened today was all part of his plan. He almost looked proud of what happened."\nStraining his neck against the restraints, McVeigh attempted to squint through a tinted window into the room where the relatives sat.\n"I wished there might have been some eye contact so he would know he didn't know he didn't break our spirit," said Anthony Scott, who survived the bombing but saw eight of his closest friends die.\nLappin asked McVeigh if he had a final statement -- about 20 seconds of silence followed. The warden then recited the charges on which McVeigh was convicted -- conspiracy, using a weapon of mass destruction and eight counts of murder.\nU.S. Marshall Frank Anderson picked up the red phone to ensure that no last-minute stay had been granted. After a brief exchange, he gave the final authorization.\nThe drugs were administered at 7:10 a.m.\nRex W. Huppke of the Associated Press said McVeigh's eyes rolled back once the first drug took effect. After four minutes, his lips turned blue and skin appeared jaundiced. He puffed heavily, trying to draw breath.\nVigo County Deputy Coroner Kevin Mayes, escorted into the death chamber by prison guards, then pronounced him dead. \n"The most remarkable thing to me was how remarkably subtle the process was in which he slipped from life to death," said Crocker Stephenson of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel. "There was no point in which he looked as if he turned a corner." \nMost witnesses testify that his carefully planned execution contrasted sharply with the chaotic horror McVeigh unleased six years ago with a rented Ryder van filled with 7,000 pounds of fertilizer and explosives.\n"He didn't suffer at all," said Sue Ashford, who survived the bombing. "The man just went to sleep, or as I said, the monster did. I think they should have done the same thing to him as he did in Oklahoma."\nIn the days leading up to the execution, McVeigh told those closest to him that he still felt that the bombing had been a justified retaliation against the federal government for FBI raids at Waco and Ruby Ridge. \nIn a letter to the Buffalo News, his hometown newspaper, he said he was "sorry those people had to lose their lives. But that's the nature of the beast. It's understood going in what the human toll will be."\nAt noon Sunday, McVeigh ate his last meal: two pints of mint chocolate chip ice cream.