A Missouri man who maintained his innocence to his final breath was executed Tuesday evening for the 2009 murders of a Jefferson City couple, closing a nearly 15-year legal saga that laid bare a story of obsession, violence, and the enduring debate over capital punishment. David Hosier, 69, received a lethal injection of pentobarbital at the Eastern Reception, Diagnostic and Correctional Center in Bonne Terre and was pronounced dead at 6:11 p.m.
His execution proceeded despite last-minute pleas for clemency citing his failing health, military service, and traumatic childhood. Governor Mike Parson denied clemency Monday, stating Hosier had “cruelly taken the lives” of Angela and Rodney Gilpin and shown no remorse. The U.S. Supreme Court had earlier declined to intervene.
The case stemmed from a fatal shooting on September 28, 2009. Angela Gilpin, 45, and her husband, Rodney, 61, were found shot to death in their apartment doorway. Investigators quickly focused on Hosier, a former firefighter and neighbor with whom Angela had an affair before reconciling with her husband.
Angela had obtained an order of protection against Hosier weeks before her death, writing that he stalked her and she feared he would shoot her and her husband. After the murders, Hosier fled Missouri, leading police on a high-speed chase in Oklahoma. Upon his arrest, officers discovered 15 firearms, hundreds of rounds of ammunition, a bulletproof vest, and a Sten submachine gun.
A handwritten note found on the seat read, “If you are going with someone, do not lie to them. If you do not, this could happen to you.” Prosecutors argued it was a chilling manifesto from a scorned lover. Hosier claimed the weapons were for hunting and denied writing the note.
At his 2013 trial, no direct forensic evidence, like DNA or fingerprints, tied him to the scene. The state’s case was built on circumstantial evidence: his documented threats, the protective order, his immediate flight, and his motive. The jury convicted him of first-degree murder for Angela’s killing after less than two hours of deliberation.
They unanimously recommended death. Throughout a decade of appeals, courts consistently upheld the conviction. In his final days, Hosier’s legal team and anti-death penalty advocates highlighted his history of mental illness, a stroke causing brain damage, and a recent heart failure diagnosis.
Two members of Congress urged Governor Parson to commute the sentence to life, citing Hosier’s frail health. A petition gathered nearly 7,000 signatures. His spiritual adviser, Reverend Jeff Hood, advocated for mercy, criticizing the state for “teaching children not to kill by killing.”
On Tuesday, Hosier spent his final hours with Rev. Hood and made farewell calls. He was served a last meal of New York strip steak, baked potato, Texas toast, Dutch apple pie, orange juice, and milk. Witnesses described him as calm on the gurney.
In a final statement, he maintained his innocence but expressed peace. “I leave you all with love. Now I get to go to heaven. Don’t cry for me. Just join me when your time comes,” he said. He also stated he felt “like the luckiest man on earth” for learning to be his fullest self in prison.
Eight family members of the victims witnessed the execution. Rodney Gilpin’s sister, Rilene Vaughn, said Hosier should be held accountable, though no punishment could bring her loved ones back. The governor’s office stated he had earned the maximum punishment under the law.
Outside the prison, 52 protesters held a silent vigil. The execution was Missouri’s second this year and the nation’s seventh. It reignited discussions on the death penalty’s application, particularly in cases reliant on circumstantial evidence, and its purpose for aging, infirm inmates.
David Hosier’s life was marked by early trauma. His father, an Indiana State Police sergeant, was killed in the line of duty when Hosier was 16. He later served honorably in the U.S. Navy and worked as a firefighter and EMT before his mental health deteriorated in the 1980s.
Diagnosed with depression and bipolar disorder, he had a history of violence against women and was involuntarily committed in 1987. His 2007 stroke compounded his struggles. Supporters argued his crimes were the product of a broken mind, while the state saw a calculated killer.
The case underscores the complex interplay of justice, mental health, and retribution. For the Gilpin family, it brings a somber close to a long wait. For the state, it represents the conclusion of a lawful process. And for Hosier, who once said the death penalty was “cruel and inhumane,” it was the end he long predicted.