On August 8, 2025, Tennessee carried out the execution of Byron Black, a 69-year-old death row inmate whose final moments have reignited debate over the state’s lethal injection protocol and the treatment of prisoners with intellectual disabilities. Black’s execution, which took place at the Riverbend Maximum Security Institution in Nashville, unfolded under the watchful eyes of journalists and his spiritual adviser, with many witnesses later describing clear signs of distress as the drugs took effect.
According to journalist witnesses who attended the execution and spoke at a news briefing afterward, Black began sighing heavily, panting, and raising and lowering his head after the intravenous drug flow began. Steve Cavendish, editor of the Nashville Banner and one of the witnesses, reported that those present were in “unanimous” agreement that they heard Black in visible and audible distress. At one point, Black uttered, “It’s hurting so bad,” a statement that was met with compassion from his spiritual adviser, the Rev. Monica Coakley, who replied, “I’m so sorry.” She continued to sing to Black and touched his face in a gesture of comfort as the procedure progressed.
This execution was not just another routine event in Tennessee’s history with capital punishment. It came amid a first-of-its-kind legal battle over whether Black’s implanted cardioverter defibrillator (ICD), a device designed to prevent fatal heart rhythms, would shock him during the lethal injection process. Concerns over the device’s potential to activate during the administration of the drug pentobarbital led to a flurry of legal filings and last-minute appeals.
Black’s attorney, Kelley Henry, stated on Friday that the ICD did not shock Black during his execution. However, she emphasized that the manner in which the pentobarbital was administered did not align with what state experts had testified. “But make no mistake, we all saw with our own eyes that the pentobarbital did not work like the State’s expert testified that it would. Mr. Black suffered,” Henry said in a statement. Black’s legal team is now ordering a full autopsy and seeking further information about the execution through public records requests, hoping to shed light on what exactly transpired in the death chamber.
The Tennessee Supreme Court had ruled just a week before the execution that the state prison did not have to deactivate Black’s ICD prior to the procedure. This decision came as Black and eight other death row inmates were engaged in a lawsuit against the Tennessee Department of Correction, challenging the state’s switch to a single-drug execution protocol using pentobarbital. The lawsuit argues that pentobarbital creates a “high risk of a torturous death,” a claim that seemed to take on new urgency as witnesses described Black’s apparent suffering. Black is now the second plaintiff in that ongoing lawsuit to be executed before the trial, which is scheduled for January, has even begun.
Black’s case is further complicated by his extensive health challenges. Court records and his legal team have detailed that he suffered from dementia, kidney disease, brain damage, and a heart condition that required the ICD. Perhaps most significant, however, is the documentation that Black had an intellectual disability, with an IQ below 70. His lawyers argued that, under modern standards, he would be ineligible for execution due to this disability. The U.S. Supreme Court only banned the execution of people with intellectual disabilities in 2002—years after Black was sentenced to death for the murders of his girlfriend, Angela Clay, 29, and her two daughters, Latoya, 9, and Lakeisha, 6, in the 1980s.
Despite these arguments, the courts declined to halt Black’s execution. His legal team’s contention that he would not be on death row if sentenced under current laws did not sway the Tennessee judiciary. The U.S. Supreme Court’s 2002 ruling in Atkins v. Virginia, which established the constitutional ban on executing people with intellectual disabilities, came too late for Black, whose death sentence was handed down well before that landmark decision.
As the state moved forward with the execution, Tennessee Attorney General Jonathan Skrmetti did not respond to requests for comment on the procedure or the concerns raised by Black’s legal team and witnesses. The lack of immediate official response has only fueled calls for greater transparency and a thorough investigation. Henry, Black’s attorney, has indicated that an autopsy report is expected to be released in eight to twelve weeks, which may provide new insights into both Black’s physical state at the time of death and the effects of the pentobarbital protocol.
For many observers, the circumstances of Black’s execution have brought renewed scrutiny to Tennessee’s use of lethal injection and its treatment of vulnerable prisoners. The ongoing lawsuit against the Department of Correction, now missing two of its original plaintiffs, continues to challenge the safety and humanity of the state’s execution procedures. Advocates for death row inmates argue that the risk of a torturous death is unacceptably high, especially for those with significant health issues and intellectual disabilities.
Black’s case also highlights broader questions about the death penalty in America. The intersection of evolving legal standards, medical ethics, and the rights of those with disabilities remains a contentious battleground. While some argue that the state has a duty to carry out sentences handed down by the courts, others insist that evolving standards of decency—and new understandings of intellectual disability—should prompt a reevaluation of who is eligible for execution and how those executions are conducted.
As the autopsy results are awaited and the lawsuit over Tennessee’s lethal injection protocol moves forward, the story of Byron Black serves as a stark reminder of the complexities and controversies that still surround capital punishment in the United States. The final moments of his life, witnessed by journalists and his spiritual adviser, have left many with lingering questions about the state’s responsibility to ensure executions are carried out humanely and in line with both the law and evolving standards of justice.
With the release of the autopsy report still weeks away, attention remains focused on the Tennessee Department of Correction and the courts. For now, the debate over lethal injection, intellectual disability, and the death penalty continues, shaped by the events of August 8 and the legacy of a man whose execution has become a new flashpoint in the ongoing struggle over capital punishment.