On April 21, Florida proceeded with the execution of Chadwick Willacy at Florida State Prison near Starke, continuing the state’s increasingly frequent use of the death penalty. Outside the prison, a small group of protesters gathered quietly on a sunlit field, holding signs opposing capital punishment, while a lone counterprotester displayed a sign listing the names of men executed in Florida since early 2025. The scene was marked by relative calm, with no major media presence, underscoring the often low-profile nature of executions in the state.
Willacy was convicted of a 1990 crime in Palm Bay, where he beat, bound, and set fire to Marlys Sather during a burglary. The execution was announced by the Florida Department of Corrections at 6:15 p.m., after which the vigil dispersed with little visible indication on the roadside that an execution had occurred.
Efforts to document and draw attention to Florida’s death penalty practices have gained momentum in recent years. Jacksonville attorney Melanie Verdecia started a newsletter to chronicle Florida’s capital cases and execution litigation in real time, motivated by the lack of public awareness surrounding executions. Meanwhile, Grace Hanna, executive director of Floridians for Alternatives to the Death Penalty, coordinates a network that includes defense attorneys, exonerees, and families impacted by death sentences. Hanna emphasizes the human dimensions behind death row, noting experiences of mental illness, abuse, addiction, and long incarceration. Her organization issues news releases on execution days that acknowledge both the victims and the complicated life stories of those being executed.
The pace of executions in Florida has drawn concern beyond activists and lawyers. Ron McAndrew, a retired warden who escorted prisoners to the electric chair in the 1990s, has spoken publicly about the emotional and psychological toll executions take on correctional staff. McAndrew described the lasting trauma he experienced after overseeing Florida’s switch from the electric chair to lethal injection, noting that staff often bear an emotional burden that persists long after executions. He warned that the accelerated schedule of executions increases the risk of errors and amplifies stress on those involved.
Religious and prison officials also express ambivalence about their roles. Father Dustin, who has accompanied several condemned prisoners through their final days, described a profound conflict between offering spiritual comfort and confronting the reality of execution. Speaking about the recent execution of Andrew Lukehart, who was convicted of killing a child in 1996, Father Dustin highlighted the emotional strain of witnessing lethal injection and the complex feelings stirred by his ministry at the prison. He continues to counsel other inmates facing execution dates, navigating moral challenges inherent in his work.
Looking ahead, executions in Florida continue apace, with another scheduled shortly after Willacy’s. Advocates, former officials, and clergy alike reflect on the human costs and persistent questions around the state’s capital punishment system amid a renewed wave of death warrants and executions.