Robin Myers, who goes by "Rocky" and has spent more than thirty years on Alabama's death row following a 1994 conviction in the killing of his neighbour Ludie Mae Tucker, remains engaged in ongoing legal proceedings aimed at overturning that judgment. Thirty-one years at St. Clair Correctional Facility — a prison roughly 30 miles northeast of Birmingham — is what Myers has endured, all while continuing to deny any involvement in the offence.
Court documents revealed that Tucker's death resulted from a stab wound to the heart, and that no DNA linking Myers to the scene was found among the evidence. The guilty verdict rested on circumstantial evidence alongside accounts from witnesses that the defence team characterised as unreliable — among them one individual who later withdrew his testimony entirely.
The presiding judge chose not to follow the jury's recommendation of life imprisonment without the possibility of release — a panel whose composition drew from a narrow demographic — and instead imposed a capital sentence. That practice of allowing judges to override jury sentencing decisions was later ended by the state legislature in Alabama.
Early attention from investigators fell on Anthony "Cool Breeze" Ballentine, whose name arose in connection with a VCR taken from Tucker's home. Accounts from three people placed Ballentine at a nearby location where the VCR was exchanged for crack cocaine, leading to his arrest by police. According to a police report dated November 30, Ballentine's release came through a joint recommendation from both the police department and the district attorney's office, after fresh evidence arose pointing to false testimony by the witnesses.
Forensic examination of the device's serial number traced it back to Tucker, yet no fingerprint analysis or other physical evidence placed it in Myers's hands. Marzell Ewing, one of the witnesses, put his name to a sworn declaration in 2004 asserting that courtroom pressure had led him to give false testimony and that he had no direct knowledge of who brought the VCR to the scene.
Mae Puckett, having sat through the proceedings as a juror, took the step in 2011 of drafting a formal written appeal to state authorities, urging them to keep Myers alive.
Legal representation of Myers by John Edmond Mays got underway at the start of 1992. Court records show that Mays had taken on Ku Klux Klan clients through the 1970s and into the 1980s, a pattern of representation that predated his involvement with Myers' case. A $7 million judgment against the United Klans of America arose from civil proceedings tied to the 1981 killing of Michael Donald, a teenager from Mobile, Alabama, with the verdict delivered in 1987. Richard Cohen, who led the Southern Poverty Law Center as its president, told reporters that Mays provided a legal defence for the Klan in that proceeding.
Documentary evidence submitted by Myers' defence team — including archived news clippings and photographs — connects Mays to a Klan gathering held in Virginia during 1977. Jaffe, a fellow attorney and friend who indicated he had been authorised to speak on Mays' behalf, conveyed that Mays now feels remorse over his presence at the rally and over his use of a racial slur. Mays, who chose not to speak with the outlet directly, relayed his position through Jaffe, stating that his opposition to capital punishment and his belief in his own ability to mount an effective defence were the reasons he took Rocky's case; Jaffe, conveying the message to the outlet, added that the decision drew little support in the town where it was made, and further noted that Mays disputes any affiliation with the Klan.
During his opening remarks at the trial, Mays referred to Myers' neighbourhood using the phrase "the very pit of hell" and described residents there as "crackheads" — language that Myers' son, LeAndrew Hood, recounted to a news outlet, saying Mays had repeatedly called his father a crackhead and portrayed him as someone of no value to society. Jaffe pushed back on questions about the outcome, arguing that securing a life sentence for the defendant — rather than a death sentence — in that jurisdiction, given the racial dynamics of the case, reflected sound legal strategy on the defence team's part.
A family member stated that Myers received a life sentence despite what they described as false testimony from witnesses, while his legal team has noted that an intellectual disability affected how Myers communicated with law enforcement and his attorneys throughout the process. Miriam Bankston, who serves as lead investigator for Myers' present legal team, told reporters that the lawyer assigned to pursue the appeal never submitted any paperwork and walked away from the matter altogether.
Governor Kay Ivey stepped in ahead of Myers's scheduled 2025 execution, converting his death-row sentence into a term of life without the possibility of parole. Ivey told reporters that uncertainty over whether Myers was actually guilty weighed heavily enough on her that she chose not to sign off on the execution.
A petition lodged by Myers' legal team that August 2025 asked a Morgan County Circuit Court judge to overturn the guilty verdict against him. Attorneys from the Morgan County District Attorney's Office filed a formal challenge against the petition. The petition that came before Morgan County Circuit Court Judge Charles Elliott went unheard on August 28, 2025, with Elliott opting instead to dispose of it on procedural grounds alone.
Myers' legal team lodged an appeal with the Alabama Court of Criminal Appeals on October 8, 2025. In a letter written after his petition was turned down, Myers expressed that he accepted the possibility of remaining incarcerated for the rest of his life yet held onto hope for a different outcome. Hood, now 47, told a news outlet that his father does not belong behind bars.
Myers maintained that the prosecution holds no proof connecting him to the crime, and separately told those present that he bears no resemblance to the person authorities have described, denying any involvement in a killing. Myers recounted that, upon receiving the sentence, the judge characterised him as a danger to the public — words that left a profound personal impact. Myers then addressed the subject of his former attorney, telling those present that the relationship had left a mark — one rooted in a sense of personal betrayal over the path that individual had taken.
In court filings, Myers' attorney Mitchell McGuire described his client as a devoted family man who shared a home with his wife and children, while Myers himself indicated he held no particular resentment over the matter. Documentation on file indicated that Myers had dealt with a dependency on controlled substances, and records described the family's financial circumstances as placing them at the lower end of the income scale. Court filings further noted that the individuals described were regarded as upstanding members of their community, though racial exclusion meant that standing alone did not shield them from discrimination.
