Steve Marshall rages as Ivey spares man in flawed death row case

Alabama Attorney General Steve Marshall wasted no time in condemning Governor Kay Ivey’s decision to commute the death sentence of Rocky Myers, a man whose conviction has long been marred by serious doubts about his guilt and mental capacity. In a statement dripping with outrage, Marshall expressed “astonishment” that the governor would dare to act without his personal approval, calling her decision “bewildering.”

For three decades, Marshall’s office has aggressively pursued the execution of Myers, a man with an intellectual disability and a case riddled with questionable evidence, procedural missteps, and legal irregularities. Yet despite mounting concerns from legal experts, activists, and even some conservative voices about the fairness of Myers’ trial, Marshall remains steadfast in his insistence that the system got it right—even as it ignored the glaring flaws.

Marshall bemoaned the governor’s “cursory review” of the case, suggesting that three decades of legal maneuvering to uphold a questionable conviction should outweigh any new considerations. However, what he fails to acknowledge is that Myers’ original trial was tainted by ineffective legal representation, missing evidence, and a judge who disregarded the jury’s recommendation of life without parole, choosing instead to impose a death sentence.

The case against Myers—who was convicted of the 1991 murder of Ludie Mae Tucker—has been under scrutiny due to the lack of physical evidence linking him to the crime. Key witnesses later recanted their testimony, raising further concerns about the reliability of the verdict. Myers, who has an IQ of around 65, was tried in a county with a history of racial bias in its criminal justice system, and his court-appointed attorney abandoned him without filing an appeal. Yet, for Marshall, none of this is cause for reconsideration—only Governor Ivey’s act of clemency is worthy of condemnation.

Marshall’s performative outrage speaks volumes about his priorities. He presents himself as a relentless champion of victims’ rights, but his commitment to “justice” is strikingly selective. His office has spent decades fighting to uphold executions, even in cases where new evidence has cast doubt on the convictions. In Myers’ case, the presence of mitigating factors—his intellectual disability, the lack of solid evidence, and the failure of the justice system to properly review his appeals—should have at least warranted closer examination.

But Marshall, ever the political opportunist, instead chose to frame the governor’s decision as an affront to his authority rather than an act of conscience. His statement paints a picture of a man more concerned with maintaining Alabama’s execution record than ensuring that the state does not wrongfully take a life.

Governor Ivey’s decision may not have been an outright exoneration, but it was a recognition that the state of Alabama should not be in the business of executing people under a cloud of doubt. Marshall, on the other hand, continues to insist that due process was followed—even when that process was riddled with failure. His disappointment is telling, and so is his silence on the very real possibility that the state nearly put an innocent man to death.