Judge approves jury's death sentence for Eric Hanson
Two months ago, a DuPage County jury took less than 90 minutes before deciding Eric C. Hanson should die for killing his parents, sister and her husband.
A judge made that decision official today.
Circuit Judge Robert Anderson certified the jury's Feb. 27 death sentence, calling the whole ordeal an "unfortunate situation" and clearing the way for the 31-year-old Naperville man to be placed on death row.
Anderson also denied Hanson's request for a new trial. His defense team, though, vowed a fierce appeal. The judge also set a perfunctory execution date for July 14, but, because of the appeals process, death sentences typically take at least a decade to be carried out.
Fifteen men, including Hanson, have received death sentences since former Gov. George Ryan, citing systematic flaws, cleared out death row several years ago.
A moratorium remains in place, but judges and juries still hand out death sentences. For example, Rodney Adkins was placed on death row last August for the 2003 murder of an Oak Park woman who walked in as he burglarized her condo.
Of the condemned, Anthony Mertz would be the first to face execution, but not for another decade. He was convicted of killing Rolling Meadows native Shannon McNamara, 21, at Eastern Illinois University in 2001.
Hanson still maintains his innocence. In his second Daily Herald interview, on March 7, the condemned man questioned how the jury could convict him without much DNA evidence. He argues the jury had him convicted from the onset because of pretrial publicity surrounding the quadruple murder case.
"You could just kind of tell by looking at them (jurors)," Hanson said. "No one can convince me that jury didn't read anything or see anything on television beforehand."
He added: "I wouldn't say that I'm scared. I think the loneliness is the one thing I really think about. Sometimes, I break down in my cell thinking about it, especially that I'm never going to be able to have a family of my own."
On Sept. 29, 2005, police discovered the bludgeoned bodies of Katherine "Kate" Hanson-Tsao, 31, along with her husband, Jimmy Tsao, 34, in their home in the tony White Eagle subdivision in Aurora.
Terrance Hanson, 57, and his wife, Mary, 55, also were found slain there. The elder couple were shot in their bed in their Naperville home, along Rock Spring Court, where Eric lived, then taken to Kate's house five miles away.
Jennifer Williams, Eric's sister, identified him as a suspect within an hour of the grisly discovery in Aurora. She said Hanson threatened to kill their sister, Kate, six weeks earlier if she told their dad he stole more than $80,000 from the parents in a credit card scheme.
Hanson denied making the threat and said his parents knew of the stolen money and were letting him pay them back without police involvement. But prosecutors presented a letter Hanson later wrote from jail to his cousin in which he admitted threatening Kate.
Prosecutors lacked a confession, both murder weapons and, despite two crime scenes with four bodies, a single hair, fiber, fingerprint or shoe print or DNA placing Hanson at either location. In fact, seven unidentified partial bloody shoe prints found at his sister's home were not traced back to Eric.
The defense team said police quickly zeroed in on Hanson, who was a convicted felon for burglary and retail theft, without checking out other suspects.
But the existence of a second crime scene in Naperville was crucial in the trial because Hanson placed himself in the home that night. He told jurors he was sleeping downstairs and didn't hear a disturbance, despite the killer's extensive cleaning of the crime scene. There were no signs of forced entry.
Police arrested Hanson one day after the grisly discovery after he returned from a one-day trip in Los Angeles to visit his ex-fiancee. Officers found Kate's $24,000 wedding ring and Jimmy's Rolex watch in his sport utility vehicle.
Hanson explained he simply was returning the jewelry but didn't get a chance before his trip. He couldn't explain another piece of evidence crucial to the prosecution.
Hanson told jurors he had no idea how a rubber glove with his father's blood ended up in a zipped plastic bag, along with three other gloves, in his SUV.
The prosecution team argued the financial motive, timeline, GPS technology, and the other evidence such as the bloody glove and Hanson's multiple lies were overwhelming proof.
The jury agreed.
His aunt, Penny Hestad, said the family supported the prosecution and was convinced of Eric Hanson's guilt. Still, she said the family has empathy for him, as well.
"However we feel about the verdict, we do recognize there's a great loss for Eric, too," Hestad said. "I don't want people to think the family is like, 'We won.' There are no winners. We just have to find a way to cope and go on with our lives as best we can."
After the trial ended, several jurors told the Daily Herald the evidence was overwhelming, and an unrepentant Hanson struck them as an unsympathetic character whose five-hour testimony was unconvincing.
Hanson will be transferred to the Pontiac Correctional Center, where he will be housed in the condemned unit alone in a cell for 20 hours each day. He said the solidarity will be a harsh existence. Hanson said he has lost hope, but is not suicidal.
Hanson said he went back to his cell after hearing the death verdict and watched the coverage on television.
"I sat in bed and cried," he said. "It was a difficult night."
"I thought it would be death, and I said I would be surprised if it took over an hour," he continued. "I think if I was on the jury I would have voted for death, too, with the way things were presented during the trial."
Hanson said a life in prison is just as harsh as death.
"At that stage of the game, I really didn't care," he said. "My thought is a life sentence is a death sentence, anyway. Either way, you're going to die in prison, whether it's a controlled death or a long, agonizing death."
No one in Illinois has been put to death by lethal injection since the May 1999 execution of Andrew Kokoraleis, prosecuted for his role in nearly 20 cult-like mutilation sex slayings of women in the 1980s in Cook and DuPage counties.