Inside Ohio's death house, there is a room for executions and separate witness rooms: one for those connected to the victim and another for those connected to the inmate. Windows separate the death chamber from those watching, the condemned from the living.
I was there on July 18, 2018 – during Ohio’s most recent execution. Robert Van Hook was put to death that day for killing David Self in 1985. He sat on death row for three decades. I was one of three media witnesses to the execution.
On June 16, Gov. Mike DeWine called for an end to the death penalty, reversing his prior support. If Ohio legislators follow suit, Van Hook's execution may be the state's last.
That morning, I drove from Cincinnati to the Southern Ohio Correctional Facility in Lucasville, past miles of quiet, foggy farmland. My planning for the trip started months earlier. I spent several days looking through the archives to understand the case.
In Ohio, the state must allow some journalists to witness executions. The largest newspaper in the county where the inmate was convicted is guaranteed a witness spot, and I volunteered to fill it. I had never covered an execution before and that seemed like a good enough reason to go.
Robbery turned murder
In 1985, Van Hook was 25 and met David Self at a Downtown Cincinnati gay bar. He later told police he intended to rob Self and had been targeting gay men in robberies since he was 15.
Van Hook ended up at Self's apartment in Hyde Park.
Self, who was also 25, was later found by his neighbor nearly disemboweled. The gaping wound in his torso was stuffed with a cigarette butt and the murder weapon, a paring knife.
Van Hook also attempted to cut off Self's head.
Police tracked Van Hook down in Florida six weeks later. During his initial trial, Van Hook claimed he went "berserk" thinking that Self was a Viet Cong soldier.
During a later appeal in 2008, a psychological report would claim Van Hook may have attacked Self due to "homosexual panic." The term refers to a legal strategy arguing a defendant reacted violently due to distress over same-sex attraction. It has occasionally been used in court but is rarely successful. There have been multiple attempts to ban the use of the defense at the federal level, but none have been signed into law.
Van Hook's attempt to bring up the defense was also unsuccessful. The judges noted his history of robbing gay men.
3 double cheeseburgers
On the day of the execution, I was herded into a multipurpose room. Ohio Department of Rehabilitation and Correction spokeswoman JoEllen Smith explained how things would work and the schedule of the day.
While protesters gathered outside the walls of the prison, Smith gave us a report about how Van Hook spent his final day.
She said prison officials noted he was in good spirits and received visitors on the day prior to the execution. He had received communion. His final dinner was three double cheeseburgers, three orders of french fries, a whole strawberry cheesecake with whipped cream, a large vanilla milkshake and grapefruit juice.
Smith told us he had been restless the night before, sleeping for only an hour or so.
The process was well-rehearsed. When I'm taking notes for a story, I write down dozens of details. The amount of detail provided to the press struck me as odd given how hard it would be to find out things like this about any other inmate.
When the time came, I was told to leave all of my belongings behind. Smith handed me a fresh notepad and something to write with and we headed outside to the death house.
The clock with big red digits
When I hold a notebook in my hand, it acts like a shield for my emotions. There’s no time to focus on how I feel when I’m trying to observe and record everything – or at least that’s what I tell myself.
I remember scratching down notes about everything that I saw: the executioner in medical garb working under a single overhead light, a digital clock with red numbers hovering over it all.
Three straps across his legs. One across his chest. Seven witnesses attended on Van Hook’s behalf, including his lawyers. Three represented Self: his brother, sister and brother-in-law.
While the IV was being placed in Van Hook's arm, the curtain was drawn over the windows. No explanation was given. But a small TV hung in the corner allowing everyone to continue watching via a camera feed. Then the curtain came back up.
Van Hook turned his head to the witness chamber and, sobbing, apologized for killing Self. A microphone carried his voice into the witness room.
"I'm very sorry for taking your brother from you," he said. "I'm no good. I hope you have some peace. One day may you be reunited with him and your mother as well."
He then recited an adapted Norse prayer which appeared in the movie "The 13th Warrior," which ends with "they do call to me and bid me take my place among them in the halls of Valhalla."
At that point, the microphone was turned off and he sang, his words muffled by the windows.
He went silent at 10:30 a.m. according to the clock’s large red digits. Two minutes later, medical staff entered the chamber to ensure he was unconscious. His lips puffed with each breath.
At 10:33 a.m., he was gasping and wheezing. The sound was loud enough to hear in the witness room. His breathing became sharp.
At 10:34 a.m., his chest stopped rising and falling.
Then 10 minutes of silence until the time of death was announced: 10:44 a.m.
The black curtain was lowered again leaving the witnesses staring at their own reflections. A moment passed, then people began to exit. The tissue box left for Self's witnesses went unused.
As we made our way back to the multipurpose room, I noted the grey hearse was parked in the grass outside the death house with its engine running. Within 20 minutes, the hearse drove away through the high steel gates of the prison.
'Untreated through his entire life'
TV cameras were not allowed inside the death house, but they were waiting for us. As witnesses, we were expected to give a verbal statement about what we saw.
Afterward, I gathered with the other journalists. Given the quick progression of events and importance of our accuracy, we compared notes to help each other fill in the gaps. What was that name he said? How was that worded? What time did this happen?
Van Hook's lawyer also spoke to the press. Allen Bohnert said Van Hook suffered physical, mental and sexual abuse as a child.
"He went untreated through his entire life," Bohnert said. "The state of Ohio should not be executing mentally ill people. It is not a proud day for Ohio."
Testifying in court
In the fall of 2018, I was called to testify in the ongoing hearings in federal court on the constitutionality of the state's execution method. The Enquirer's lawyers attempted to quash the subpoena because the press generally argues that forcing journalists to testify in court about their report can have a chilling effect on our freedom of speech. We argue that anything of note we may have witnessed would be included in our reporting.
The following January, that court ruled that one of the drugs used to kill Van Hook caused unconstitutional suffering. That decision would later be overturned on appeal. But shortly after that ruling, DeWine issued a moratorium on the death penalty in Ohio.
In 2021, DeWine signed legislation that prevents people with a serious mental illness from being sentenced to death.
For months following the execution, I thought about Van Hook and Self every day. Now, nearly eight years later, that day still pops into my head at least once a month. If asked to report on another execution, I don't think I would volunteer so quickly. It is a memory that doesn't seem to fade. Like all of us, at the end I will have to look at my own reflection.
Source: cincinnati.com, Cameron Knight, June 17, 2026
"One is absolutely sickened, not by the crimes that the wicked have committed,
but by the punishments that the good have inflicted."
— Oscar Wilde
but by the punishments that the good have inflicted."
— Oscar Wilde
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