The Last Public Execution in America

by Perry T. Ryan

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CHAPTER 23

THE HANGMAN

George Phillip Hanna was born, at Epworth, White County, Illinois, on September 16, 1873, the son of George L. and Mary J. Hanna. Epworth is a tiny community located a few miles south of the City of Carmi. Hanna was born in a house that was built by his great grandfather John Hanna, a pioneer of the community of Epworth and a wealthy landowner. He continued to live in this house throughout his life. He had one brother, Harry, and a sister. After his wealthy father died, he and his brother inherited the enormous farm, which consisted of over 2,000 acres of prime farmland. He married late in life to Martha Crebbs (Lichtenberger), the daughter of Charles and Mary Lichtenberger.

Although he was a farmer, he was one of the wealthiest landowners in White County, Illinois. Known for his generosity, he was not thought to be selfish with his wealth. Some describe him as religious in philosophy but not in practice. He was known to drink often, and although he was no drunkard, he would impair his faculties.

Phil Hanna suffered from algophobia, a psychological condition which is characterized by a morbid, irrational fear of pain. Ironically, while he would himself supervise the hanging of a man, he could not bear to watch someone slaughter a chicken. He turned his head in another direction because he did not want to watch the chicken suffer. Supervising the hangings caused him to become a "nervous wreck" for several days each time he returned home.

When Hanna was only twenty-two years old, he witnessed his first hanging, that of Fred Beheme at McCleansburg, Illinois, in 1896. The officials who conducted this execution were so inexperienced that the hanging became an accidental exercise in brutality. Deeply troubled by what he had seen, Hanna was moved to learn more about the proper manner to conduct a hanging. He read various materials and studied the subject until he became an expert. He began to officiate at hangings, directing the authorities how to proceed. Although Hanna never requested to officiate at any hanging, he was widely known for his skills, and local sheriffs and other officials across the country often requested his assistance prior to an execution.

The execution of Rainey Bethea was Hanna's seventieth hanging.

Hanna never accepted payment for conducting the hangings. He fancied his services as a contribution to humanity. He never himself pulled the trigger of the trap doors which sent a man to his death; this responsibility he left to the local law enforcement officials who were charged with the legal duty to carry out the death sentence. In all of his various executions, Hanna only requested that he be given the weapon which was used to commit the crime. He collected pistols and other weapons which had been used to commit murders and robberies.

Hanna followed a certain protocol with the prisoner. When he arrived at the site of an execution, he visited the condemned person and announced, "I am here to help you." Hanna told people that he hoped to spare the individual some misery. He sometimes counseled the prisoners, assuring them their death would be painless. He went to great lengths to see that the subject's last request was fulfilled.

Hanna seemed to enjoy his notoriety, but said he disliked being called "the hangman."

It is noteworthy that he officiated at each of the five hangings which were conducted publicly in Kentucky under the rape law, the first of which was not actually implemented until 1927. The Bethea hanging was the last public execution, which was conducted in 1936.

Besides the hanging in Daviess County, Hanna supervised the double hangings of Nathan Bard and Bunyon Fleming, two blacks who were hanged in Madisonville for rape on November 25, 1927. He also supervised the hanging of Sam Jennings, conducted in Hardinsburg, Breckinridge County, Kentucky, on June 17, 1932, as well as the hanging of Willard T. DeBoe in Smithland, Livingston County, Kentucky, on April 19, 1935.

The equipment Hanna carried with him in his many travels was designed to conform with his desire to minimize cruelty. The hoods which were placed over the head of each prisoner were sewn by his wife. The prisoner was given his choice of colors, black or white.

Concluding that he could better perform his art using his own equipment, Hanna later built a portable scaffold, which was disassembled and re-erected. Over fifteen feet tall, the scaffold was first used at a hanging of a black man in Murphysboro, Illinois, some twenty-one years prior to the Bethea hanging.

The trap door Hanna used in his hangings was acquired from another hanging. Weighing some 200 to 300 pounds, the trap consisted of a metal frame which supported two heavy metal doors hinged at both sides of the frame. The trigger which operated this device was a long narrow handle which was attached to the metal frame. The trigger was locked with a padlock until shortly before an execution. When the trigger was sprung, a metal support which held the two doors together was released, and the doors fell downward, parting in the middle. After the trap had been used in several executions, Hanna asked Buck Reynolds, a resident of Epworth who was a welder and a machinist known for his mechanical skills, to make some mechanical alterations to the trap door. At one point, the two doors were welded together so that they formed only one door which dropped on one side. Hanna usually took two ropes and various sandbags with him to the hangings. The sandbags were tied to the rope and dropped through the trap during experimental runs at operating the device.

Because Hanna believed that causing a man to wait for the drop was itself cruel, he had a prearranged signal for the man who pulled the trigger. As soon as Hanna had adjusted the noose around the condemned man's neck, Hanna nodded his head and then the local law enforcement officer in charge pulled the trigger.

Although he claimed to be a humanitarian, Hanna's hangings were far from perfect. Indeed, some of them were brutal. During one of the hangings, the rope broke. This occurred at the execution of James Johnson on March 26, 1920, at Popular Bluff, Missouri. The condemned man fell to the ground and was severely injured. An embarrassed Hanna quickly descended the steps to the base of the scaffold, where he picked up Johnson and carried him to the floor of the scaffold. There, Johnson stated, "Hurry up, boys, and get me out of my misery." After that day, Hanna always brought two ropes to a hanging and tested the ropes for their strength.

One of Hanna's most unusual experiences was hanging one of his neighbors, Frank Lawhorn, who died on April 5, 1921, in White County. Lawhorn had been convicted of murder.

Hanna once witnessed an electrocution. When he looked at the chair, he exclaimed, "What a contraption!" After the electrocution, he noted that when the current was turned on, the body lunged forward in the chair. Hanna expressed concern that the straps might break. Concluding that electrocutions were less humane than hangings, he never wanted to witness another electrocution.

Hanna's own death was somewhat unusual. Prior to dying, Hanna's wife left him, and he subsequently became quite ill. He was admitted to a hospital in Evansville, Indiana. He shook the railings of his bed in frustration. He was known to become belligerent at times. On September 6, 1948, he died of hardening of the arteries.

Although Phil Hanna seems to have been very unusual, his friends and family remember him fondly, emphasizing his deep commitment to humanitarianism. Nonetheless, a perceptive historian cannot avoid observing a basic irony in Hanna's life which seems irreconcilable. Why would an individual so deeply concerned about humane deaths and the avoidance of pain actually want to participate in public hangings? Perhaps the answer lies with the psychological makeup of the man. It seems plausible that he had such an irrational fear of death and pain that he had a psychological need to participate in it--a way to reassure himself that he could himself live through such horrifying experiences. Such an explanation is similar in many respects to reasons given by individuals who develop a keen interest in horror films. By watching the films, some of these individuals say that they can deal with their own fears better. They realize that they have survived watching the horror, so they assure themselves of their own safety by watching additional movies.