Death row ‘fat man’ denies he’s a killer

COLUMBUS — Richard Cooey has been getting a lot of attention lately.

He’s the guy in that “fat man lawsuit,” as he puts it. The one who, in court filings, cites his “morbid obesity” among the reasons he shouldn’t be put to death next month. (He said his weight isn’t the issue; it’s about vein access and medication he takes that will counter the lethal injection drugs.)

I interviewed him last week up at the state pen in Youngstown on behalf of the Statehouse press corps, which randomly selects members to complete such tasks.

It’s the second time I’ve talked to someone on death row, the first being the late James Filiaggi, who went to meet his maker, courtesy of the state, in April 2007. He was tired of being “monsterized” in the press and didn’t want to talk to me, but he did admit what he did and voiced remorse.

I never spoke to Christopher Newton, but I did witness his execution in Lucasville in May 2007. In one of his final television interviews before making the trip to the death house, he appeared remorseful and used the opportunity to warn kids not to follow his path and to make better choices in life.

None of which means a whole lot to their deceased victims or the families and loved ones left behind as a result of their crimes. But, at least from my perspective, they seemed to be more accepting of their punishment.

Blaming his co-defendant

That’s not the case with Cooey. A little more than a month away from his execution date, he still maintains he didn’t do the killing in his case, instead placing the blame on his co-defendant, who was a juvenile at the time of the crime and is in prison for life. He blames incompetent legal counsel for his death sentence. And he says state-sponsored lethal injection is a crock, anyway.

“I’m not pro capital punishment for the state,” he said. “Like I said, I believe in an eye for an eye when it comes for the family. ... (But) I would never be a proponent of it, because, like I said, it’s financially, racially and politically motivated, without a doubt. ... Have you ever seen a millionaire end up on death row all alone? Have you ever seen anybody that could afford a good lawyer ... end up on death row? ... Never.”

Cooey had plenty to say about the aforementioned issues. He had his case file and wanted to go through the timelines on past executions, making his case that the injection procedures are flawed. He also had plenty of disparaging things to say about Summit County Prosecutor Sherri Bevan Walsh.

But he had little to say about anything else. He made it clear that he had several areas he wanted to cover; outside of that, he wasn’t talking.

At one point, thwarted by the public information officer from going into details about other inmates’ executions, he said, “Then, basically, the interview has to be ceased then. Because basically there’s nothing to talk about.”

That’s understandable, I suppose. Cooey’s crimes were heinous, and an entire city has been waiting for more than two decades for justice. Death row interviews give inmates an opportunity to offer some level of contrition.

Cooey wouldn’t have any part of that. I tried.

“The family has said they haven’t heard an apology on this,” I said at one point. “Have you tried to apologize on this? ... Are you going to give a final statement?”

“I’m not going to respond to none of that type of stuff,” he replied.

Not that it would matter much. I don’t think people affected by this case care what Cooey has to say.

X Marc Kovac is The Vindicator’s correspondent in Columbus.