What’s it like to watch somebody die?

COLUMBUS — I haven’t told my kids about Kenneth Biros yet.

I probably will someday, but I keep putting it off, shielding my 4-, 7- and 9-year-olds from the ugly realities of life for as long as I can.

I don’t even know how to begin that conversation.

I’m not going to explain, in detail, the heinous, brutal crimes that put Biros or others on Death Row.

And I’m not going to describe the gruesome photos of bloody body parts or descriptions of sexual mutilation that are offered during clemency hearings before the state parole board.

But someday, when my kids are older, the death penalty and executions and lethal injections are going to come up, so I’ve been trying to prepare for that moment.

I’ll probably tell them that in Ohio and many other states, people who kill other people sometimes are put to death. And that, in the past, condemned criminals were hanged from ropes, shot by firing squads, forced to breathe poisonous gases or electrocuted while strapped to chairs.

I’ll have to explain that now prisoners sentenced to die in Ohio are injected with drugs that put them to sleep and stop them from breathing.

And I’ll likely tell them something about the three men whose executions I have witnessed. About how Christopher Newton laughed as the lethal injection was started. About the peaceful expression on the face of Jason Getsy as he went to sleep for the last time. About Biros refusing to look the family members of his victim in the eye while apologizing and how his chest heaved as he took his last breaths.

I should tell them the scenes were a lot less dramatic and traumatic than they should have been.

Peaceful deaths

And I’ll most likely tell them that all three died relatively peacefully — in stark contrast to their victims, particularly the young woman who must have suffered excruciating pain at the hands of Biros before he cut her up and spread her body parts (the ones that investigators found) in two Pennsylvania counties.

I should emphasize the tragedy of it all. The often-broken family backgrounds of the criminals. The ruined lives from the crimes, both for the victims’ families and friends and the perpetrators’. The emotional strain that sometimes puts those affected into early graves. The continuing nightmares for those still alive.

My kids will probably ask me why I have to be involved in all this stuff, and I’ll try to explain to them that it’s part of the job.

Somebody has to describe, as objectively as possible, the process and the scenes for those who cannot be there.

Somebody has to watch as the government puts people to death, to make sure it’s done appropriately, or at least within the confines of law and written procedures.

I might quote U.S. District Judge Gregory L. Frost, who denied Biros’ request to delay his execution. He wrote, “Too often a layperson will hear of litigation such as this case and be offended, applying a rationale derived from a biblical understanding of justice. But the Constitution neither endorses nor tolerates an eye-for-an-eye, suffering-for-suffering approach to executions. Rather, the Constitution upon which this country is founded protects all citizens, even the worst among the citizenry who have engaged in the most reprehensible of acts.”

My kids haven’t asked about any of this yet. Thankfully, they didn’t press me on my whereabouts one night last week when I was covering Biros’ execution.

They will someday.

I don’t even know how to begin that conversation.

X Marc Kovac is The Vindicator’s Statehouse correspondent. E-mail him at mkovac@dixcom.com or on Twitter at Ohio Capital Blog.