Robert “Eli” Whitney in a January 1984 photo.
Robert “Eli” Whitney in a January 1984 photo.

Brad Whitney, whose surname is both well known in Penacook and associated with tragedy there, wonders why Gary Sampson isn’t dead yet.

Didn’t Sampson kill Whitney’s father, Robert “Eli” Whitney, and two Massachusetts men 15 years ago? And didn’t Sampson, in fact, confess to all three murders? And, serving as a bottom line in Whitney’s mind, didn’t a jury already sentence Sampson to death, way back in 2003?

Well?

“The system is not good,” Whitney told me last week. “That’s a key thing. If I was on the other end of things and was accused of something, you hope the system works properly, but when it’s a slam dunk case, when it’s cut and dry, impose the sentence and be freaking done with it and move on.”

Whitney’s anger, while controlled during lunch at a restaurant in Laconia, was palpable. No matter your politics here, it’s easy to feel his frustration as he searches for an ending to this nightmare. He thought he had it years ago, in 2003.

But eight years after Sampson was sentenced to death, a judge overturned it, citing a lone juror’s dishonesty during the selection process. Now, five years after that, here we were, eating grilled chicken salads and re-opening old wounds.

The final stage for jury selection this time will begin Tuesday in United States District Court in Boston. Sampson pleaded guilty here and was given life in prison.

“Still after so many years it’s hurtful,” Whitney said. “And there are real people at the end of all these headlines and victims that have to fit all this in and lead a regular normal life, all at the same time.”

Whitney is a mechanical engineer who lives in Epsom with his wife and two children. He’s clean-cut, lean and serious. He grew up in Penacook, across from Morrill Farm, where Eli milked cows as a child and young man.

Eli’s wife, Susan, and daughter, Jennifer Habel, still live in Penacook. Brad Whitney was the lone member of the family willing to speak. He pushed a nervous laugh out when I asked why, after so many years of privacy, he had agreed to talk.

“I’m not really sure,” Whitney finally said.

Was it because he wanted to set the record straight in some fashion? “Yeah, I think that’s part of it,” Whitney said. He said press coverage only adds to the “whirlwind of emotion that is going on at the time.”

Sampson made headlines during a week-long murder spree in July of 2001. A Boston-area drifter, he got a ride from a man named Philip McCloskey, a 69-year-old retired pipe fitter who had stopped to buy flowers for a friend in Weymouth, Mass. Sampson tied McCloskey up with a belt and stabbed him to death.

Then Sampson was picked up hitchhiking in Plymouth, Mass., by a 19-year-old college student named Jonathan Rizzo, who had just left his job waiting tables at a seafood restaurant. Sampson tied Rizzo to a tree and stabbed him to death as well.

From there, Sampson drove north to Meredith and broke into a lake house. The next day Eli came by to mow the lawn for a friend and was strangled to death by Sampson, who was later caught in Vermont after attacking a fourth man there.

That Meredith home held a story in its wood frame, one that created a picture of Eli as clear as the nearby lakes. Unlike most published reports, which have said and continued to say, Eli was not the “caretaker” of the house.

He was a friend of the owner, a radiologist whose year-round house was in Penacook. The man died and his widow needed help.

“He owned the cottage and he asked dad to turn it into a full-time home,” Whitney said. “He was getting into a semi-retirement state and he didn’t want to work on a Saturday morning, but he wanted to go and help somebody out. A lot of these people he did work for were his friends.”

His name still resonates today in the area. Eli used his building skills to earn a living and extend a hand to neighbors who needed it. He was tough yet fair with his children.

Whitney said his father was a typical New England “Yankee.” He was a city councilor who loved NASCAR and local driver Ricky Craven. He ran a tight ship, pulled no punches and never shied away from hard work. Susan was his partner, in both life and their building business. They were married for more than 30 years.

“They were quite inseparable,” Whitney said. “Weekend wise they did everything together, and at some point she joined the business and she was the person holding the 2-by-4 or helping put up the rafters, so they were around each other 24/7.”

For Whitney, some memories were clear, while others have faded. “It’s difficult, and when this type of event comes up, it’s very difficult to remember certain instances,” Whitney said. “I don’t want to say that part of your mind gets blocked out, but if I lived in that moment every day, I’d be a wreck.”

In the coming weeks, pain will resurface as the jury weighs more than 200 mitigating factors that the defense hopes will illustrate why Sampson’s life should be spared.

Whitney’s not sure if he’ll be asked to testify, along with members of the two Massachusetts families. And even with his resentment toward the justice system and Sampson himself, he said he has no problem not taking the stand.

“I don’t have a strong desire to get something off my chest or chastise Sampson,” he said. “It would be more if the prosecution thought it was needed to get the job done, then I would do it.”

His words say a lot. It’s obvious that Whitney believes the Massachusetts families’ testimony will express enough pain to get the job done. Or, Whitney knows, there might be more delays and appeals in a justice system that makes little sense to a lot of us.

Meanwhile, he said he’ll probably attend the first day of the trial and perhaps the last, but that’s it. It’s expected to last about 10 weeks.

“People are still hurt,” Whitney said. “They want what’s due for Gary Sampson.”