utah execution | Murder Database

Taberon Honie Executed In Utah

Taberon Honie was executed by the State of Utah on August 8 2024 for a murder committed in 1998

According to court documents following a breakup with his girlfriend Taberon Honie would break into the home of his ex girlfriends mother, Claudia Benn, and proceeded to slash the woman several times before slitting her throat and stabbing her to death

Police would arrive at the murder scene and find Taberon Honie in the garage with blood underneath his fingernails. Honie would admit to the brutal murder

Taberon Honie would be convicted and sentenced to death

On August 8 2024 Taberon Honie would be executed by lethal injection

This is the first execution in Utah since 2010. The majority of inmates on Utah death row have requested to be executed by firing squad including Troy Kell

Taberon Honie Execution

A death row inmate in Utah set to be executed on Thursday maintains that he never meant to murder his ex-girlfriend’s mother, saying he has always taken responsibility and is sorry for the life he took 25 years ago.

Taberon Honie, 48, is scheduled to be put to death by lethal injection for killing 49-year-old Claudia Benn, a substance abuse counselor for the Paiute Tribe who was killed on July 9, 1998, at her home in Cedar City in southwestern Utah.

If the execution proceeds as scheduled, he will become the 12th inmate to be executed in the U.S. this year and the first executed in Utah since a 2010 execution by firing squad. It will also come just two days after an execution in Texas.

“Yes, I’m a monster,” Honie told the Utah Board of Pardons and Parole last month. “The only thing that kept me going all these years, the only thing I know 100%, this would never happen if I was in my right mind … I make no excuses.”

The board denied his request for a reprieve.

As his execution day approaches, USA TODAY is looking back at the crime, who Honie is and what led him down a path that ended in a woman’s horrific death.

On July 9, 1998, Taberon Honie was drunk and fighting over the phone with girlfriend Carol Pikyavit, who was staying at her mother’s house along with the daughter she shared with Honie, according to court records. At one point, records say, Honie threatened to kill everyone in her home and take the couple’s daughter if Pikyavit didn’t make time to see him, records say.

Not taking the threat seriously, Pikyavit left the home and headed to work.

Honie headed to the house, saying he had planned to sleep under the porch until Pikyavit came home. But as soon as he arrived, he began arguing with Pikyavit’s mother, Claudia Benn, who was babysitting her three granddaughters.

Taberon Honie told police that Benn started the argument and was calling him names through a sliding glass door before he snapped, broke through the door and went inside, saying he just wanted to scare Benn.

Benn had grabbed a butcher knife but was overpowered by Honie, who grabbed the knife and brought it to her throat, court records say. Honie says the two of them both tripped while the knife was at Benn’s throat and that she fell on the blade.

When police arrived shortly after, Honie − covered in blood − emerged from the home and said he had “stabbed and killed her with a knife,” court documents say. Benn was found face down in the living room, with numerous “stabbing and cutting wounds” to her neck and genitals, according to court documents.

All three grandchildren were found at the home with varying degrees of blood on their clothes and body. There was also evidence that one of Benn’s granddaughters was sexually abused at some point, court documents say.

Honie was arrested, charged and convicted of aggravated murder.

Honie was raised with five siblings in First Mesa, a village on the eastern side of the Hopi Reservation in northern Arizona, and is considered Hopi-Tewa. His childhood was marked by “neglect, violence and chaos,” according to a commutation petition filed in June seeking to have Honie’s death sentence thrown out in favor of life in prison.

Life on the mesa was “extremely difficult,” as the family of eight survived without access to basic resources like running water or toilets for nearly a decade, the petition says.

“We had no recreation center, no after-school activities, nothing,” Honie says in the petition. “We lived at a poverty level below the city slums. We all had a view that, ‘I will never amount to anything. I will never be able to leave the mesa, so what is the use?’”

Honie and his siblings often were left to fend for themselves, with the older children starting fires to cook or warm the house since Honie’s parents were always “absent, drinking and fighting,” the petition says.

Honie began to act out at the age of 10, turning to alcohol and drugs after falling in with the “wrong people,” and later stealing things to obtain booze and drugs. His substance abuse problems continued into adulthood until his arrest.

Honie has also grappled with bouts of depression, getting a formal diagnosis in 2009 following various suicide attempts.

Honie’s traumatic childhood, brain damage, long-standing substance abuse and extreme intoxication all had a “synergistic effect,” impacting his ability to control his judgment and behavior on July 9, 1998, the commutation petition says.

“Honie also inherited generations of trauma from his parents, extended family, and his Hopi-Tewa community, which is referred to as intergenerational trauma,” the petition says.

Honie may have done a “horrible” thing but he has paid for it by serving nearly 25 years on death row, according to the petition. And even if his death sentence is thrown out, he will continue to pay by spending the rest of his life in prison

“Mr. Honie does not have to be executed and is worthy of mercy,” according to the commutation petition, which says Honie has led a positive and productive life in prison, earning a high school diploma, learning a trade (plumbing) and staying close with family.

Honie’s execution would only “create more pain,” devastating his daughter Tressa and his granddaughter Alana, who have spent years worried about “Mr. Honie and his circumstances in the prison.”

“His family loves him very much,” the petition says. “His family has suffered much throughout their own lives and losing Mr. Honie to an execution would be devastating to them.”

Utah Attorney General Sean Reyes argued against Honie’s clemency petition, citing “Honie’s horrific acts, their life-long impact on Claudia’s family and her tribal community.”

He said combined, they all demonstrate a “failure to own up to the terror and gravity of his conduct.”

One of Honie’s daughters, Benita Yracheta, told USA TODAY that she’s feeling relief that she can soon put her mother’s death behind her, saying that justice for her mother is “finally happening.”

“I had told them that I had cried for this man that killed because now that he knows his death date, he’s trying to throw everything out there to stop it,” she said. “My mom, she never knew her death date. She didn’t know she was gonna die that night, but I know that he needs to end it.”

https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2024/08/07/taberon-dave-honie-utah-death-row-execution/74679003007

John Taylor Executed For Charla King Murder

John Taylor was executed by the State of Utah for the murder of Charla King

According to court documents John Taylor would break into a home where he would sexually assault and murder eleven year old Charla King

John Taylor would be arrested, convicted and sentenced to death

John Taylor would be executed by firing squad on January 26 1996

John Taylor Photos

John Taylor Case

Child killer John Albert Taylor, strapped to a black metal chair with a white target over his heart, became the nation’s first convict in 19 years to die before a firing squad early Friday.

Taylor, 36, was executed at approximately 12:04 a.m. MST at Utah State Prison with a four-bullet volley fired by anonymous marksmen using .30-.30 caliber deer rifles – the type used to execute Gary Gilmore at the same prison in 1977.”The execution was carried out without any incident of any kind,” said Attorney General Jan Graham.

Utah is alone among the states in offering the condemned a choice of lethal injection or firing squad.

Taylor said he chose the firing squad because it would be costly and embarrassing to the state and because he feared “flipping around like a fish out of water” if given an injection. He also hoped the method would more dramatically underscore his claim that his death would be state-sanctioned murder.

Wearing a dark blue jumpsuit, he was strapped into a steel chair 23 feet from five executioners, a white cloth target pinned over his heart and a pile of sandbags behind him. A black hood was placed over his head.

The executioners – all law enforcement volunteers paid $300 each – fired through rectangular openings. One gun is traditionally loaded with a blank round; none of the shooters knows which.

Prison spokesman Ray Wahl said Taylor was pronounced dead at 12:07 a.m.

At first, Taylor had waited calmly in the deathwatch cell Thursday, downing antacid when he complained his stomach was “doing flip-flops.” He ate pizza with an uncle, wrote up his last will and testament and discussed the afterlife with the Catholic priest, Reverend Reyes Rodriquez, who baptized him last week.

Just over an hour before he was executed, Taylor, after singing hymns with two attorneys and Rodriquez, bowed his head and wept as the priest read scriptures. Rodriquez accompanied Taylor to the death chamber

Like Gilmore, Taylor could have demanded to halt the execution right up until the moment he was strapped into the chair. In fact, a federal magistrate was standing by Thursday night to issue a stay if needed.

But Beverly DeVoy, a freelance journalist who was one of Taylor’s three invited witnesses and had corresponded with him for years, said it was the inmate’s health problems – an enlarged heart, bleeding ulcers and swollen legs and feet – that bound him to his death wish.

With his deteriorating health, he was afraid would die alone in his cell, said DeVoy, and the only alternative was execution. He made her promise to keep his health a secret until he was dead.

Taylor, diagnosed at 17 as “a remorseless pedophile,” was convicted of raping 11-year-old Charla Nicole King and strangling the girl with a telephone cord in 1989.

“They say executing him is so barbaric,” said the victim’s mother, Sherron King. “Tell me what’s barbaric. My daughter was alive (while being raped and choked). He won’t even hear the sound of the bullets.”

Taylor had insisted he was wrongly convicted. But he abruptly dropped all appeals and fired his lawyer in December, determined to die now rather than spend years confined to a death-row cell for 23 hours a day

Gov. Mike Leavitt said Thursday the state had an obligation to make the execution dignified and orderly.

“There is nothing but sadness in this event,” Leavitt said. “This is the highest penalty that society can exact and the most difficult task government could be delegated.”

In Delaware, a killer went to the gallows early Thursday in the nation’s third hanging since 1965. Billy Bailey, 49, was executed for the shotgun slayings of an elderly couple at their farmhouse in 1979.

Gilmore was the first person put to death in the United States after the Supreme Court lifted its ban on capital punishment in 1976. His execution ended a 10-year moratorium on the death penalty.

It was during a visit to his sister in Washington Terrace that Taylor entered a neighbor’s apartment and attacked Charla Nicole King. The girl’s nude body, underpants stuffed in her mouth, was found on a bed by her mother.

Taylor’s own sister, Laura Galli, who testified at his sentencing that he had raped her three times when she was 12, tipped off police that he may have murdered the child

Taylor’s fingerprints were found on the bedroom telephone. He claimed he had merely burglarized the apartment, taking $3 from under the phone.

His strategy of requesting a non-jury trial backfired when Judge David Roth found him guilty and sentenced him to death.

Over his final dinner of pizza and Coke, Taylor told his uncle, Gordon Lee, that he was comfortable with his decision to die, but “he said he had butterflies and he didn’t know why.

“I said I had butterflies and Johnny said, `It must be the pizza,”‘ Lee said.

Lee said he tried to talk Taylor into appealing to get a stay of the execution, but, “It’s like he told me, he couldn’t live my life for me and I couldn’t live his.”

https://www.deseret.com/1996/1/26/19221528/online-document-child-killer-executed-by-utah-firing-squad

Joseph Parsons Executed For Richard Ernest Murder

Joseph Parsons was executed by the State of Utah for the murder of Richard Lynn Ernest

According to court documents Joseph Parsons was picked up hitchhiking by Richard Lynn Ernest. Somewhere along the ride Joseph Parsons would murder Richard Lynn Ernest and assume his identity

Joseph Parsons would be arrested, convicted and sentenced to death

Joseph Parsons would be executed by lethal injection on October 15 1999

Joseph Parsons Photos

Joseph Parsons Case

Strapped to a gurney and just minutes from being executed, a flippant Joseph Mitchell Parsons called himself a “warrior,” boasting of murdering his victim 12 years ago.

“Love to my family and friends. And Woody, the rainbow warrior rules. Thank you.”With that, Utah State Prison warden Hank Galetka gave the signal for two paramedics to inject the lethal chemicals that dripped through an IV into Parsons’ body. Galetka backed away, standing at Parsons’ left side as the death quietly unfolded. Parsons never flinched, lying there quietly, peacefully, as his breathing slowed.

A white paper sheet that covered a portion of his body moved slightly as he inhaled, and then stopped.

Within eight minutes and after a stethoscope detected no heart beat, the convicted killer was pronounced dead. The sheet was lifted over his face. The curtains in the witness rooms were closed and Utah’s first execution in three years was concluded.

Parsons’ last words, which came at 12:08 a.m. today, were a final communication to fellow death row inmate Doug Lovell, nicknamed “Woody.” The two were close friends.

The word “rainbow,” in the context Parsons used, was referring to the gay community.

“He views himself as a rainbow warrior,” prison spokesman Jack Ford said. “He was referring to the victim.”

Parsons long maintained he stabbed Richard Ernest on Aug. 31, 1987, at least nine times because the California motorist made a sexual pass at him. Ernest’s widow, Beverley, said her husband wasn’t a homosexual.

In a letter Parsons wrote to the Deseret News to be released only after his death, the 35-year-old man detailed his feelings about the crime and his time on death row (see related story).

“It is said I ‘murdered’ Richard Ernest, but the truth is I ‘killed’ Richard Ernest. . . . I do regret the anguish I’ve caused to all those who cared about Richard Ernest. But, know this, I feel no remorse toward Ernest himself as I am dead, in part, because of his actions.” Parsons rejected being described as “cold-blooded” and said his own death was pointless.

“If you ask those who know me, the idea of me being a cold-blooded murderer is utterly ridiculous. The evidence used to kill me does have inconsistencies, and the truth was clouded by indifference. . . . My death served only one purpose, to quench the thirst of vengeance.”

Nearly 12 years ago, and five months into his prosecution, Parsons surprised Iron County Attorney Scott Burns by asserting the stabbing happened after Ernest put “hands” on him in the close confines of a car.

Medical evidence contradicted Parsons’ story, indicating Ernest, who offered the hitchhiking Parsons a ride, was more than likely stabbed as he slept, suffering a six-inch wound to the heart and four-inch wound to his throat. His body was found dumped alongside I-15 near Cedar City.

“It wasn’t fair. The way he died, it was not fair,” Janet Salais, Ernest’s sister, said after viewing the execution. “He took the easy way. He just laid there and went to sleep.”

Parsons became the fourth man in Utah to die by lethal injection since the U.S. Supreme Court’s ban on executions was lifted in 1976.

His death came quickly, not only as he lay strapped to a tan gurney in front of about 25 witnesses but because he cut short his appeals, telling a U.S. magistrate this summer he wanted to die.

Today he got his death wish, and Beverley Ernest says she believes she will be able to close this ugly chapter in her life.

“I think our life as a family is solidifying,” she said afterward. “I think this brings a sense of feeling it is over, of not having to worry about Parsons anymore.”

Ernest said she was not surprised at Parsons’ last disparaging remark directed at her former husband, adding she never expected to witness any remorse by the killer.

“It wouldn’t have made it any easier; he still did it. I’m sorry doesn’t bring anything back,” she said. “And I don’t feel sorry for him. I get very angry when other people judge. I think Joseph Parsons decided his fate when he stabbed Richard the very first time.”

Although she was reluctant to come to Utah, she said she was less fearful about viewing the execution than reliving the memories rekindled by her return here.

“It brings all of it back. You rehearse and go over and over it again. It opens the wound every time.”

She, like Salais, was dismayed at what she described as Parsons’ sterile, painless death.

“Richard was brutally murdered. Parsons was just anesthetized, put to sleep, it is not the same.”

Parsons’ death, she says, brings her peace, but not in the way it happened.

“You don’t want to sound cold-blooded,” she said, “but Parsons went in for a medical procedure, and Richard got murdered

https://www.deseret.com/1999/10/15/19470687/parsons-gets-his-death-wish-br-he-takes-a-final-dig-at-his-victim-before-execution

Ronnie Lee Gardner Executed By Firing Squad

Ronnie Lee Gardner was executed by the State of Utah for the murder of a man during an escape attempt

According to court documents Ronnie Lee Gardner was being tried for murder when he attempted to escape from the courtroom. In the process he would shoot and kill lawyer Michael Burdell, 36.

Ronnie Lee Gardner would be arrested, convicted and sentenced to death

Ronnie Lee Gardner would be executed by firing squad on June 18 2010

Ronnie Lee Gardner Photos

Ronnie Lee Gardner FAQ

When Was Ronnie Lee Gardner Executed

Ronnie Lee Gardner was executed on June 18 2010

Ronnie Lee Gardner Case

In a darkened car park high on a hill overlooking the sparkling nightscape of Salt Lake City, two young women are clinging to each other and weeping. Their embrace conveys more than a thousand speeches.

Both women are nieces, and both have lost their much-loved uncles at the end of a gun. Donna Taylor’s uncle, a lawyer called Michael Burdell, was shot through the right eye on 2 April 1985 by a convicted criminal who was trying to escape from the city’s central courthouse having been on trial for a previous murder.

Ashley Gardner’s uncle was Ronnie Lee Gardner, that same convicted criminal. In the early hours of Friday morning, just minutes before the two women’s locked embrace, Ronnie Lee Gardner was executed inside Utah state prison, becoming the first person in America in 14 years to be put to death by firing squad.

There was precious little of the positive to be garnered during a long night spent waiting outside the prison for Gardner’s execution to be announced. We learnt that the prisoner had spent much of his final hours sleeping and talking to a Mormon clergyman. We heard that at midnight he had been restrained in the execution chair with six straps applied across his head, chest, wrist and ankles. We discovered that the expert marksmen who had volunteered to be the executioners had been issued with Winchester 30-30 rifles. We were told that they had taken aim at a circular target that had been attached to Gardner’s prison jumpsuit using Velcro by a doctor who placed it right over the condemned man’s heart.

We found out that the executioners were given a countdown but that for some unexplained reason they had decided in advance that they would all fire at the penultimate number.

Five. Four. Three.

And on the count of two they opened fire.

Gruesome detail piled on top of gruesome detail. But then there was this: the simple embrace, away from the cameras, of two bereaved nieces, brought together across a massive and violent divide by their common loss and their common disgust towards the death penalty.

“I love him, he was a great guy,” Ashley Gardner said about her uncle whose body was even then being wrapped in a black bag, placed on a gurney and sent on its way to a local morgue to await cremation. “I’m hurt because I don’t believe murder justifies murder.”

Donna Taylor wouldn’t speak to the Guardian after the execution; her weary look made clear this was not the time and place. But earlier in the night, before the firing squad had assembled and done its business, she talked about her uncle Michael Burdell.

The day he died he was doing voluntary legal work at the courthouse – that was the kind of man he was, she said. All his life he had a visceral dislike of violence and killing of any nature, so much so that when he was drafted to the Vietnam war he made sure he was put in a role that did not involve carrying a gun.

“Mike was totally against the death penalty,” Taylor said. “He would not have wanted this; he would have said this doesn’t do any good.”

It was only the third time since 1977 that execution by firing squad had been practiced in the US. All three occasions took place in Utah, a state that is unashamed about its fondness for guns and has a history, dating back to its Mormon roots, of equating justice to the principle that blood begets blood.

Of 49 executions in Utah over the past 160 years, 40 have been by firing squad.

That confidence in the rightness of judicial killing was reflected outside the prison on Friday morning by some of the people gathered there, as a counterpoint to the sentiment reflected in the women’s embrace. On the far side of the car park, separated from the nieces only by a bare patch of tarmac, Barb Webb was rejoicing.

Her father, Nick Kirk, was a bailiff at the courthouse where Gardner tried to make his 1985 escape, and was shot in the stomach by the convict. He lived, but spent the final 10 years of his life in constant pain and fear that his assailant would go on the run again.

“I’m mighty relieved,” Webb said. “It’s like a hundred pounds has come off my shoulders. I don’t have to hear Gardner’s name any more; he won’t have another appeal. I won’t hear that date, 2 April 1985, over and over again.”

The execution was carried out in a specially designed chamber inside the prison. A simple room measuring 20 by 24 feet, it is separated from two adjacent rooms by bullet-proof glass to avoid injuries in case of a ricochet to the witnesses who gather there.

There were 14 witnesses on Friday morning, though none from Gardner’s family. “My Dad didn’t want us to see him like that, he wanted us to remember him as he was alive,” Gardner’s daughter Brandie said.

At midnight Ronnie Lee Gardner was taken from his cell, walked to the execution chamber and strapped to the chair. When he was asked if he had any last words, he replied. “I do not. No.”

A black hood was placed over his head. By then the five local law enforcement officers had lined up behind a brick wall some 25 feet away from Gardner. They could not be seen, to preserve their anonymity.

They placed the barrels of their rifles through a slot in the wall and aimed at the target above Ronnie Lee Gardner’s heart. Four of the rifles were loaded with a single live bullet. The fifth contained an “ineffective” round – which unlike a blank gives the same recoil as a live bullet; that way none of the five executioners could know whether or not they had delivered the fatal shot.

Nine journalists from local TV channels and newspapers described what happened next. At 12.15am, when the countdown reached two, a very loud eruption of noise signalled the discharge of the guns. The target had holes in it and began to turn a darker colour.

At the point of impact Ronnie Lee Gardner clenched his fist and his left arm convulsed, rising up and down, then up and down again. He continued rubbing his thumb and finger together for so long that some of the reporters thought he was still alive and wondered if the firing squad would have to reload.

Then, two minutes after the gunfire, the doctor came in and lifted the hood. Gardner’s face was revealed, looking ashen, and his head was slumped backwards. He was pronounced dead at 12.17am.

“It was cleaner than I expected,” said Sheryl Worsley of the local news station KSL. “But he moved and that bothers me. It mirrors the last couple of weeks – he was fighting to stay alive.”

Once the doctor had confirmed that Ronnie Lee Gardner’s 49 years of life were at an end, the news was put out. This being the 21st century, even in Utah, the prison authorities made the grim announcement via Twitter.

Gardner’s family was told that he had gone by his lawyer, and they immediately marked the moment by releasing 25 coloured balloons into the night sky above the parking lot.

“He’s free now,” his sister Diane said. “He’s not in pain any more, he’s not locked up, he’s up there with the rest of his family.”

In the run-up to his execution, Ronnie Lee Gardner did not try to protest his innocence. Instead he told the authorities of his broken childhood and pleaded with them to take that in mitigation.

He reminded them that aged two he was found wandering the streets alone severely malnourished and dressed only in a nappy. At five, he was sexually abused by an older sister and her friend. At six he was sniffing glue. By 10 he was addicted to hard drugs, and by 14 he was being put out to work as a prostitute by a paedophile who was allowed to become his foster parent.

When his daughter Brandie asked him recently why in April he chose the firing squad rather than the more conventional lethal injection method, he said: “I lived by the gun, I murdered with a gun, I will die by the gun.”

In the last few years Ronnie Lee Gardner worked with his brother Randy to set up a project for abused children. With Randy’s money, supplemented by a little Gardner had saved selling craftworks he made in prison, they bought a plot of land in northern Utah where they planned to teach troubled kids how to farm.

It would be organic, Gardner insisted, because he was convinced that chemicals in food were killing people. He told Brandie that if the farm could help just one child who was on the wrong path and save them from his fate, then it would all have been worth it.

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2010/jun/18/utah-execution-ronnie-lee-gardner

Arthur Bishop Executed For 5 Murders

Arthur Bishop was executed by the State of Utah for the murders of five boys

According to court documents Arthur Bishop would be fired from Big Brothers for molesting young boys

Through the period of 1979 to 1983 Arthur Bishop would sexually assault and murder five boys:

Alonzo Daniels, age 4, October 14, 1979
Claude Kimley Peterson, age 11, November 8, 1980
Danny Davis, age 4, October 20, 1981
Troy Ward, age 6, June 22, 1983
Graeme Cunningham, age 13, July 14, 1983

Arthur Bishop would be arrested, convicted and sentenced to death

Arthur Bishop would be executed by way of lethal injection on June 10 1988

Arthur Bishop Photos

Arthur Bishop FAQ

When was Arthur Bishop executed

Arthur Bishop was executed on June 10 1988

How was Arthur Bishop executed

Arthur Bishop was executed by lethal injection

Arthur Bishop Case

After four years, families of missing boys finally had answers.

Their sons who had vanished beginning in 1979 were murdered.

And the man behind those killings was Arthur Gary Bishop.

“Here you have four years, terrorizing the community trying to figure out if there’s a monster or a series of people that are monsters kidnapping or killing our kids,” said former deputy Salt Lake district attorney Creighton Horton. “And a lot of people who were interacting with him thought he was a great guy.”

But little did anyone know, Bishop was actually the devil in Salt Lake City.

Bishop had at least two aliases; Roger Downs and Lynn Jones.

Beginning with the 1979 murder of Alonzo Daniels, Bishop lived near all of his victims.

He lived across the street from the grocery store where Danny Davis disappeared. He took up residence near the bowling alley where Kim Peterson disappeared in 1980, and lived in the same neighborhood where Troy Ward and Graeme Cunningham vanished in 1983.

In fact it was Cunningham’s disappearance that Bishop became a suspect. The teen was a friend of Bishop and his so-called stepson named Jeff. All three were headed to Disneyland in July 1983.

But the night before they were leaving, Cunningham got a phone call, left his house, and was never seen again.

At the time, Bishop was known as Roger Downs. He and Jeff were brought in for routine questioning in hopes of finding Cunningham.

But according to Horton, the detective thought something was odd when he started to question Jeff.

“He asked Jeff how long has Roger been abusing you?” Horton said. “And basically said ‘my whole life.’”

Bishop was then questioned about their relationship, and in a startling development, he confessed. But it wasn’t about his relationship with Jeff; it was for the murder of Cunningham. Horton said the detective noticed Bishop was using the word “they” and asked him about that. Bishop said he killed all five boys. Bishop was charged with five-counts each of aggravated murder, aggravated kidnapping, and a single count of sex abuse.

In an infamous statement played during Bishop’s sentencing trial, he was relieved it was over.

“I’m glad you caught me, ’cause I couldn’t stop and I would do it again if I had the chance,” said Bishop.

The statement was Bishop’s confession to the detective and was never played before the public until that moment at sentencing, according to Horton, who was co-counsel along with Robert Stott, the lead prosecutor.

“And to have all those cases having been committed by the same person and to have all of those cases solved at one time was truly remarkable,” said Horton.

Bishop took the detectives to where three of the bodies were. Alonzo Daniels, Kim Peterson, and Danny Davis were buried near each other in a remote area near Cove Fort in Utah County.

Bishop dumped the bodies of Troy Ward and Graeme Cunningham in Big Cottonwood Creek. Their bodies were found in a logjam. Each of the boys were given a proper burial.

As for Bishop, he was a former eagle scout and belonged to the Big Brother organization.

But he was also a pedophile.

In a 1984 exclusive interview with Phil Riesen, anchor at ABC4, Bishop knew he had problems.

“I tried all my life to reach (my parents) and I couldn’t,” Bishop said. “I don’t know what to do about this.”

In 1984, he was convicted of aggravated kidnapping and murder and sex abuse, and was sentenced to die.

Troy Ward’s mother recalled seeing Bishop in the courtroom.

“I was sitting right behind him and it took a lot of holding back,” Cheryl Sorensen recalled.

Four years later, Bishop suddenly stopped his appeals. Through his attorneys, he did this to spare the victim’s families from further pain.

But back then, Cunningham’s mother told ABC4 his show of mercy was shallow.

“He has not given up his life to make our lives easier,” said Shona Cunningham. “I am sick and tired that he is (considered) this martyr.”

In June 1988 Arthur Gary Bishop’s reign of terror in Utah ended by lethal injection.

For Danny Davis’ family, Bishop’s execution was fitting.

“The devil incarnate,” said his cousin Brenda Davis Fellows. “He was cruel and pure evil.”

More than 41-years has passed since Troy Ward died. His mother now understands that voice she kept hearing when he first disappeared; that he’s no longer in pain and that he’s okay.

Still, she sometimes lives in a world of “what ifs.”

“I felt that he’d be like a good father, live life to the fullest,” his mother said.

In 1979, Bishop was questioned by police when Alonzo Daniels disappeared. He lived in the same apartment complex. His apartment was across the hall from the Daniels.

According to Horton, Salt Lake police questioned him at the time and thought of him as odd. But he was never questioned again until 1983.