Anthony Boyd Remembered : Immortal Final Breaths

Anthony Boyd remembered. Just a few weeks ago, I stood with Boyd in the final hours of his life. As his spiritual advisor, I held space for him in that horrific execution chamber in Alabama. I watched a man who had spent decades seeking redemption and fighting for others meet death with a determined faith. Indeed, he knew his execution was not an ending. In the days ahead Boyd will be memorialized, I wanted to make sure these words were part of the record. -JH.

Breaths That Became a Movement

On October 23, 2025, the state of Alabama executed Anthony Boyd by nitrogen hypoxia. For the Department of Corrections, it was another scheduled event…a procedure to be completed, documented and forgotten. For those who knew Boyd, it was a public revelation of what state violence truly looks like. A man’s final breath was replaced with nitrogen, and his final words became a sermon.

Anthony Boyd was not just another name on a list of the condemned. As chairman of Project Hope to Abolish the Death Penalty, he was a leader among men whom society had written off. From inside the walls of Holman Correctional Facility, he helped build one of the longest standing prisoner-led movements against the death penalty. He wrote, organized and mentored. He spoke of compassion, even for those who believed in his death. And in the months before his execution, Boyd’s calm defiance turned into something greater…a moral reckoning for those that believed he should be killed.

His Final Words : Anthony Boyd Remembered

In his recorded message to Alabama’s governor, Boyd extended an invitation that was as bold as it was simple, “Before an innocent man is executed, come sit down with me and have a conversation with the guy you deemed one of the worst of the worst.” He continued, “If not, then I ask you to stay this execution, to stop this execution to have my case fully and fairly investigated.” It was an appeal to humanity, to justice and to the possibility that listening might still matter.

When that request was denied, Boyd’s words grew sharper. In his final statement he declared, “Just want everyone to know, there is no justice in this state. It’s all political, it’s all revenge-motivated. There is no justice in the state, there can be no justice in the state.” Then, turning from condemnation to hope, he ended with the rallying cry that will outlive his name, “I want all my people to keep fighting, you all matter. Let’s get it.”

Let’s Get It

“Let’s get it.” Those three words encapsulate his life’s work. Boyd believed in a future without executions, a future built not by politicians but by ordinary people who refuse to look away. For years, he helped Project Hope publish newsletters, organize outreach and give voice to those on death row. He was a bridge between the condemned and the free, reminding both that the line between them is thinner than most imagine.

When Alabama chose nitrogen as its new killing method, the state called it humane. Boyd’s execution proved otherwise. Witnesses reported visible distress. What the officials called “peaceful” looked anything but. In that moment, the mask meant to silence him became a symbol of everything he had been warning about…the inhumanity disguised as justice, the cruelty hidden behind procedure.

A Legacy of Mercy : Anthony Boyd Remembered

For many who oppose the death penalty, Boyd’s final moments turned abstraction into urgency. His death forced a great many to confront the grotesque reality of execution by suffocation…a method that strips a person of the very breath that defines life. The sight of a man dying that way, after years of advocating for mercy, has already sparked outrage across faith communities and human-rights organizations. In pulpits and protests, his name is now invoked as proof that “humane execution” is a lie.

But beyond the politics and headlines, there was Anthony Boyd the man…thoughtful, disciplined and deeply faithful. Those who corresponded with him through Project Hope describe him as humble and steadfast, someone who believed that transformation was possible even inside the walls of death row. His writings spoke often of grace, forgiveness and the power of solidarity. He reminded people on both sides of the bars that “we either rise together or we fall together.”

His Breath Lives On : Anthony Boyd Remembered

Boyd’s life and death raise an uncomfortable question for the rest of us… What does justice mean when it demands the deliberate killing of a human being? If the goal of punishment is accountability, can that ever be achieved through asphyxiation? His final breath challenges us to ask whether retribution can coexist with dignity…or whether it always ends, as it did for him, in cruelty masked as law?

Vigils were held throughout the world at the time of his death. At one in Birmingham, a minister read Boyd’s words aloud, “There can be no justice until we change this system … Let’s get it.” The crowd responded, “Let’s get it.” For a brief moment, the voice of a man who died in isolation filled the open air. That echo is his legacy.

Anthony Boyd’s death is not the end of his work…it is the acceleration of it. The nitrogen that took his breath cannot take his truth. Each time his words are read, each time someone joins the movement to end the death penalty, he breathes again. His passing stands as both an indictment and an invitation…to end this practice, to build systems rooted in mercy and to ensure that no one else is killed in the name of justice.

Anthony Boyd once said, “I didn’t kill anybody. I didn’t participate in killing anybody.” Such final insistence becomes prophetic when uttered by a man the state chose to kill. His death calls us to remember that humanity’s worth cannot be decided by a court…and that the measure of a society lies not in how it punishes…but in how it shows mercy…no matter the circumstance.

Boyd’s last words were not surrender. They were instruction. “Let’s get it,” he said…and with those words, he passed the torch to the living. His life was spent trying to end executions. His death will help finish the work.