When I first got to death row, I wouldn’t look out the window because I didn’t want to see the razor wire announcing my captivity. When I did look, it was nighttime. I saw an ambulance drive away with the corpse of a condemned man who had just been executed. It drove at a parade speed, creeping down the road to ensure we saw it and absorbed its meaning for us. So, I stopped looking out the window. I didn’t want to see one of my friends being carried away. I didn’t want to be reminded that I was in prison and that I was here to die a painful death. That I was caught up in a spectacle of punishment. That I might one day be day be the man in the ambulance.
—Lyle May, Death Row Prisoner North Carolina