What happens when a prisoner already frail and vulnerable faces execution while connected to a device designed to save his life?
Byron Black’s death on Tennessee’s death row has brought this harrowing question into stark focus. As lethal chemicals coursed through his veins, a legal battle over his implanted defibrillator left him exposed to intense pain, prompting critics to ask whether his suffering could have—and should have—been prevented.
Black, 69, was executed Tuesday morning at the Riverbend Maximum Security Institution in Nashville. He had been convicted of the 1988 murders of his girlfriend, Angela Clay, 29, and her two daughters, Latoya, 9, and Lakeisha, 6. This marked Tennessee’s second execution of 2025 and the 28th nationwide—the highest yearly total in a decade, according to the Death Penalty Information Center.
Witnesses described Black moaning in distress as pentobarbital took effect. “Oh, it’s hurting so bad,” he reportedly said while restrained on the gurney. His spiritual advisor stood nearby, singing and praying softly: “I’m so sorry. Just listen to my voice.”
The execution followed a bitter legal dispute over whether Black’s implanted cardioverter-defibrillator should be deactivated. A trial judge initially ordered the device turned off, warning it could trigger during lethal injection and cause further suffering.
That ruling was overturned by the Tennessee Supreme Court, which held that the lower court had no authority to mandate such a step. Governor Bill Lee declined to intervene or grant clemency.
Black’s attorney, Kelley Henry, criticized the state’s handling, noting his severe medical conditions—wheelchair dependence, dementia, brain damage, kidney failure, congestive heart failure—and intellectual disability, which she argued should have barred execution under federal law. “The fact that he could lift his head and vocalize pain shows the pentobarbital was not working as the state claimed,” Henry said.
Authorities confirmed that an autopsy will determine whether the defibrillator activated during the execution. Henry called the act “the killing of a gentle, fragile, intellectually disabled man simply because the state could.”
Prosecutors emphasized Black’s criminal history, citing the murders of Clay and her daughters, committed while he was on work release, and his prior conviction for shooting Clay’s estranged husband. Meanwhile, Clay’s sister, Linette Bell, voiced lingering grief: “His family is now experiencing what we went through 37 years ago. I can’t say I’m sorry—we never received an apology.”
Black’s execution ended a five-year hiatus for Tennessee death sentences and reignited intense debate over the ethics of capital punishment, particularly when applied to prisoners with serious health problems or disabilities.
On August 5, Tennessee plans to execute #ByronBlack, an elderly man with intellectual disability who uses a wheelchair. It is not too late to call @GovBillLee (615) 741-2001 and urge him to halt this execution.#EndTheDeathPenalty pic.twitter.com/j0AipxUNZ9
— Karine Omry (@KarineOmry) August 4, 2025
🔹 Final Reflection
Byron Black’s death underscores the moral and legal dilemmas of executing vulnerable prisoners. Between his grave health conditions, intellectual disability, and the state’s refusal to disable a potentially harmful medical device, his execution raises urgent questions about preventable suffering, fairness, and the boundaries of the death penalty in the modern era.