It was bound to happen. When I left CCRC in 2019, there were four clients I promised I would be there for if the Governor ever signed their death warrants. Frank Walls, scheduled for execution on December 18, was one of them. I have known Frank for almost a decade.
Frank is a person with intellectual disability. This is well-documented, well-litigated, and well-supported by decades of evidence. He was 19 when he was arrested, and he has lived peacefully on death row for more than 30 years. Under both the U.S. Constitution and Florida law, intellectual disability is a categorical bar to execution. This means that no matter the crime, the State is prohibited from putting a person with intellectual disability to death. It is not a discretionary rule. It is a bright-line constitutional protection rooted in the understanding that people with intellectual disabilities are less culpable, more vulnerable to coercion, and at far greater risk of wrongful conviction and wrongful execution.
Despite this, the State continues to insist that Frank’s disability can be ignored because of procedural bars. Procedural bars are rules that limit when or how a person can raise a legal claim, often based on timing, paperwork, or the stage of the case. These rules were never intended to erase constitutional protections. Their purpose was and is to promote efficiency, not injustice. But when the State uses procedural bars to sidestep categorical bans, those rules become traps. They turn fundamental rights into technicalities the courts can “refuse to consider” rather than obligations the State must uphold.
In Frank’s case and many others, the State wants you to believe he is simply a monster. That narrative is lazy, dehumanizing, and false. When Frank was a teenager, he committed monstrous acts, but he is not a monster. His life story illustrates exactly why we do not execute people with intellectual disabilities: their limitations shape their behavior, their vulnerability, and the profound failures of the systems that surround them.
We are watching the consequences of procedural obstruction play out in real time in Tommy Zeigler’s case, which is back in court this week for an evidentiary hearing. For decades, the State has fought to keep the DNA evidence in his case untested — evidence that now strongly supports his long-maintained innocence. Finally, thanks to persistent attorneys and Tommy’s own resilience, the courts are finally seeing the those test results. Tommy is 80 years old and has spent nearly 50 years living under threat of execution. This is what happens when procedural rules are elevated above truth. Scientific evidence is buried, and the risk of executing an innocent person becomes not theoretical, but immediate.
And we see the flip side in the case of Mark Geralds. He has long-standing innocence claims, serious Brady violations, and unresolved constitutional issues. But the moment he waived his final appeals, out of despair rather than clarity, the State treated his collapse as permission to kill him. Florida moves at lightning speed when a person stops fighting, even when the record is riddled with doubt. It is the mirror image of Tommy’s case: one man blocked from presenting new evidence, another pushed through the machinery of death before his claims were meaningfully heard.
If Florida is willing to bury the truth in Tommy’s case and rush past it in Mark’s, then Frank’s situation is even more alarming. Executing Frank despite his intellectual disability would shred the constitutional guarantee that bars this exact outcome. It would open the door to executing people who are categorically protected and to executing people who are factually innocent. When procedural rules are allowed to block a person from proving either their innocence or their ineligibility for execution, we no longer have a system of justice.
We remain hopeful that the courts will intervene and that our Governor will recognize the profound moral and constitutional error in allowing Frank’s execution to proceed. But we are also realistic. And that is why I am asking you to speak out.
Push back against the State’s narrative that Frank is irredeemable. Remind people that no teenager, especially one with profound cognitive limitations, should ever be condemned to die. Tell them who Frank is. He is a man who has spent more than three decades finding stability in rhythms of life on death row. A man who has embraced the teachings of the Catholic Church. A man who flourishes, as many people with developmental disabilities do, when given the structure, predictability, and safety that should have been available to him all along. Anyone on the row who has interacted with Frank will tell you he is gentle, vulnerable, and worthy of protection — despite what he did three decades ago. Other inmates regularly help him with tasks like writing letters and filing grievances because they understand his limitations and care for him as a member of their community.
I view our role during this vile execution spree as painfully simple. We speak out. We tell the truth. We refuse to be silent. We support the lawyers fighting to stop this barbaric killing. And if all of that fails, we bear witness.
I will bear witness to Frank’s murder. I will be a loving face in the room for him as the State takes his life. Afterwards, I will tell the truth about what the State of Florida has done. That is my responsibility. And I need you to join me in yours.
Flood the field across from Florida State Prison with us on December 18. If you cannot be there in person, join us online or at one of the many vigils across the state. Wherever you are, please pause. Bear witness to the fact that the State of Florida is killing someone in your name.
Onward,
Maria Deliberato, Esq.
FADP Legal and Policy Director
P.S. If you’ve never attended an execution vigil, I truly hope you will. It is meaningful to everyone involved. If you are aware of a vigil that isn’t listed below, or you’d like to start your own, please email [email protected] to let us know!
