“I DID THE RIGHT THING” — Lynda Lyon Block’s Final Words Before Execution | Alabama Death Row (US) 

“I DID THE RIGHT THING” — Lynda Lyon Block’s Final Words Before Execution | Alabama Death Row (US) 

Corners shot in the parking lot. The law says that simply because I shoot a police officer without considering the circumstances that led to it could land me on death row. They’ve just told me that the state of Alabama wants to put me to death in the most horrible manner. me, a woman, a mother, a businesswoman, and [clears throat] the only thing that I did was protect my husband.

 Now, they make execute me, but up until the moment they do, if that does happen, I know I did the right thing, and I do not regret that. A shot rang out in the quiet parking lot of a Walmart in Opaikica, Alabama. In an instant, the life of Sergeant Roger Lamar Miley Jr., a dedicated officer with the Opelikica Police Department, was violently cut short.

 He collapsed onto the concrete, his body crumpling in the chaos that ensued. His final moments, filled with confusion and desperation, were a stark contrast to the mundane task that had brought him to the scene in the first place. a routine errand to pick up supplies for his department. The woman behind the gun that ended his life was Linda Cheryl Lion Block.

 Once a respected member of her community, Linda’s transformation into someone capable of murder seemed improbable to those who knew her. But on that fateful day, she crossed a line that would forever change her life and the lives of others. Linda and her partner George Cibby had spent years living outside the bounds of societal norms, subscribing to a radical anti-government ideology known as sovereign citizenship.

 This belief would soon lead them into a deadly confrontation with law enforcement. When officer Miley approached their car, he likely had no idea that this simple interaction would soon escalate into a shootout. What happened in those moments? How did a routine welfare check escalate into an execution? Why did Linda pull the trigger? Subscribe and stay tuned as we unravel how this shocking crime unfolded, the investigation that followed, and why this case became one of Alabama’s most controversial death row stories.

 Linda Cheryl Lion Block’s life was marked by a series of troubled events that shaped her into the woman she would become. Born in Orlando, Florida on February 8th, 1948, her childhood was far from idyllic. Her father passed away when she was just 10 years old, leaving her to grow up under the harsh rule of a mother with whom she had a strained and often painful relationship.

 Linda described the bond with her mother as cold and abusive, setting the foundation for a young girl’s descent into rebellion. As she reached adulthood, Linda sought to carve out a life that felt like her own, one that would allow her to reject societal norms. She immersed herself in her community in Key West, Florida, where she worked as a secretary for the Humane Society, became a published magazine editor, and even volunteered on political campaigns.

 But despite the outward appearance of normaly, Linda’s beliefs were anything but conventional. Her worldview shifted toward radicalism in the early 1990s when she adopted the sovereign citizen ideology, a belief that rejected the authority of government institutions. the very laws that everyone else lived by. She renounced her US citizenship and disavowed the legal system, turning her back on the very fabric of society.

 It was around this time that Linda crossed paths with George Cibby, a man who shared her anti-government sentiments. The two formed a bond not just of love, but of ideological partnership. George, a man with an intense belief in his own sovereign rights, became Linda’s partner in both crime and life.

 Together, they would spend the next few years living on the run, avoiding authorities and drawing further into their radical beliefs. George’s refusal to cooperate with law enforcement, combined with Linda’s defiant spirit, would set the stage for the tragic events that would follow. At the time of the crime, Sergeant Roger Lamar Miley had been with the Opelikica Police Department for over a decade.

 A man known for his dedication and service, Miley had worked his way from the patrol division to the role of sergeant. He had seen his fair share of traffic stops, arrests, and routine policing. But on the day of the shooting, he was on what seemed like a mundane errand, checking in on a possible welfare concern outside a Walmart parking lot in Opaikica, Alabama.

 It was a woman’s call, a concerned bystander who had noticed a child sitting in a red Mustang parked under the hot sun. The woman believed the child might be in danger, possibly left alone or abandoned. Without hesitation, Sergeant Miley approached the vehicle, ready to check on the child and perhaps offer assistance. What he didn’t know was that this seemingly innocent interaction would soon turn deadly.

 In the red Mustang, Linda and George sat waiting. George, ever the defiant sovereign citizen, had renounced all legal identification, no license, no registration. As Sergeant Miley approached the car, he politely requested that George provide his identification, but George refused. “I don’t need a license,” he replied, citing his belief that the government had no right to require identification.

His response was more than just a refusal. It was an open challenge to Miley’s authority. Linda, watching the encounter unfold, could see that the situation was escalating. As George continued to argue, the tension between the two men was palpable. Sergeant Miley, trained to stay alert in such situations, placed his hand near his service weapon, a simple precautionary move.

 But to George, this was a threat, an invitation for confrontation. Without warning, George reached into the car and grabbed a firearm. A shot rang out, striking Sergeant Miley. At that moment, Linda made her move. Grabbing her own weapon, she sprinted towards the scene of the shooting. She approached quietly, crouching low as she neared Miley’s position behind his patrol car.

 As Miley tried to regain his composure, he saw Linda too late. She fired the shot hitting him in the chest, a fatal blow that would end his life. The events that unfolded that day were not random, nor were they impulsive. They were the culmination of years of escalating defiance and rejection of authority. And the tragic outcome would leave Roger Miley’s family grieving, the community in shock, and Linda and George on the run.

 What began as a routine welfare check turned into one of Alabama’s most controversial death row cases. This was not just the story of a tragic shooting. It was the story of how a radical ideology can push individuals to a breaking point. Linda Cheryl Lion Block was not simply a woman who pulled the trigger. She was a woman who believed she had been wronged by the very system she had rejected.

 And for her, this was more than just a crime. It was the culmination of her lifelong battle against a world she no longer believed had a place for her. Stay with us as we dive deeper into the investigation, the forensic evidence that pieced the case together, and the courtroom drama that would ultimately lead to Linda’s fate. The tension in the Walmart parking lot was palpable as Sergeant Roger Lamar Miley approached the red Mustang.

 The vehicle sat there with the engine off and a young boy in the front seat. A concerned passer by had reported that the child seemed to be in distress, possibly left alone. It was an ordinary call, one that Miley had responded to countless times in his career. But there was nothing ordinary about the two people sitting inside the Mustang.

 Linda Cheryl Lion Block and George Cibby. As Miley approached the driver’s side, he asked George for his identification. It was a standard request, part of his routine procedure. But George refused, citing his belief in sovereign citizen ideology. To George, the government had no right to demand identification, no right to impose its laws on him.

 He was above it, or so he thought. His voice grew louder and his words more defiant. “I don’t need a license. I don’t recognize your authority,” George said, his tone cold and dismissive. Miley, trained to remain calm in the face of confrontation, didn’t immediately escalate the situation. But his instincts told him this wasn’t a routine stop.

 His hands subtly moved toward his service weapon, a cautious response, one that law enforcement officers are trained to make when things begin to feel out of control. It was a natural reflex, not a sign of aggression, but to George, it was the last straw. In a split second, George reached into the car and pulled out a handgun. Without warning, he fired, striking Sergeant Miley.

 The sound of the shot echoed through the parking lot, reverberating off the concrete. Miley staggered, caught off guard by the sudden violence and instinctively sought cover behind his patrol car. His mind raced. He needed backup. He needed help. But he was already losing control of the situation. What Miley didn’t know was that Linda Cheryl Lion Block, seated in the passenger seat, had been waiting for the moment to intervene.

 Hearing the gunshot, she reached for her own weapon, a handgun concealed in her purse. She stepped out of the car, moving quickly but quietly toward Miley’s position. The 9-year-old child in the backseat of the Mustang remained unaware of the deadly confrontation unfolding just steps away. The child was a witness to the chaos, but luckily not a victim.

 Linda, now standing behind Miley’s patrol car, took aim. She moved swiftly, carefully positioning herself. Miley, focused on George, didn’t see her approach. The situation had already spiraled beyond control and with a sudden burst of gunfire, Linda shot Miley in the chest. He fell to the ground, his life draining away in a matter of moments.

 Miley, severely wounded, still managed to call for help. >> “Officer down! Officer down!” he cried into the radio, his voice filled with panic and pain. But it was already too late. The officers who would come to his aid were too far away. Meanwhile, Linda and George knew they had to flee. Without a second thought, they bolted from the scene, running to their red Mustang and speeding away.

 Their escape was chaotic, their minds clouded with the urgency to vanish before the police could respond. They drove off into the streets of Opaikica, leaving behind a scene that would later send shock waves through the community. What followed was a manhunt unlike any other. Law enforcement agencies quickly mobilized, scouring the area for any trace of Linda and George.

 The manhunt intensified as the hours passed. Witnesses gave detailed descriptions of the couple, and police began to piece together the trail. Linda and George didn’t get far. They were caught less than a day later after a brief standoff with law enforcement. By the time they were arrested, the crime scene had been thoroughly processed.

 The ballistic evidence, the eyewitness testimony, and the radio communications between Miley and Dispatch all painted a clear picture of what had transpired. The investigation had begun, but the real story was only just unfolding. Linda Cheryl Lion Block and George Cibby were now fugitives, but the legal battle to follow would expose not just the tragic loss of life, but the deep ideological convictions that had led to the killing in the first place.

 The investigation was far from over. The investigation into the death of Sergeant Roger Lamar Miley began immediately after the fatal shooting. Law enforcement quickly began to piece together the events of that day. Witness testimony was critical. Several bystanders who had seen the confrontation described Linda Cheryl Lion Block as being present at the scene and they confirmed that she had fired at the officer.

 But the biggest clue came from ballistics evidence. Forensic teams recovered the bullet that had struck Roger Miley. Analysis of the ballistics revealed that the shot which killed him came from Linda’s gun, not George’s, as initially speculated. The forensic evidence was clear. While George had fired the first shot, it was Linda who had delivered the fatal blow.

 The challenge, however, lay in pinpointing exactly when Linda pulled the trigger, as her shot came moments after George’s. This ambiguity in the sequence of shots added complexity to the case, but still reinforced that Linda’s gun was the one responsible for Miley’s death. Roger Miley’s final radio transmission would also play a crucial role.

 In his desperate call for backup, he mentioned being under fire, confirming the chaos that had ensued. His words provided vital insight into the timeline as they matched witness statements about the initial confrontation and the subsequent attempt by Miley to seek refuge behind his patrol car.

 The investigation ramped up as police sought to track down Linda and George who had fled the scene. Law enforcement worked tirelessly cross-referencing the descriptions from eyewitnesses, matching the car’s details to registration records and tracking the couple’s movements. The manhunt was soon on.

 Police set up roadblocks and began searching the area. Linda and George attempted to evade capture, leading to a dramatic 4-hour standoff. Finally, after hours of tense negotiations, the couple surrendered. They were arrested and taken into custody, their escape attempt ending in failure. By the time of their arrest, authorities had gathered enough evidence to charge Linda Cheryl Lion Block with capital murder, and the road to trial was set into motion.

 The trial of Linda Cheryl Lion Block began in the summer of 1994, and from the very start, it was clear that this would not be a typical courtroom battle. Linda, already a woman with a deep disdain for authority, made the controversial decision to represent herself. Despite warnings from the court, she refused court-appointed counsel, insisting on defending herself against the charges that would determine her fate.

 Her decision to wave the right to a lawyer was met with skepticism. Legal experts expressed concerns that Linda, with no formal legal training, would be at a severe disadvantage in a case as complex and high stakes as hers. But Linda’s decision was rooted in her belief that the court itself was an illegitimate entity, a product of a system she had long since rejected.

 She viewed her trial as yet another extension of the government’s power which she had spent years rejecting. It was a direct challenge to the judicial system. The case hinged on a central question. Did Linda Cheryl Lion block act in self-defense or was she guilty of capital murder? The prosecution argued that the evidence was overwhelming.

Witnesses had placed Linda at the scene of the crime, and ballistics analysis confirmed that it was her gun that had fired the fatal shot. Forensic evidence corroborated the prosecution’s argument, showing that Linda had fired at Sergeant Miley during a violent confrontation after George Cibby had already shot the officer.

 The defense, led by Linda herself, attempted to argue that her actions had been in self-defense. She contended that she had acted out of fear and was trying to protect her partner, George Cibby, who had been engaged in a confrontation with law enforcement. But the jury was not convinced by this line of reasoning.

 The fact that Miley had already been shot when Linda fired the fatal shot made it difficult to argue that her actions had been motivated by fear for her safety. In the courtroom, Linda’s behavior mirrored her defiance outside of it. She interrupted the proceedings, often engaging in heated exchanges with the judge and the prosecutor.

 Her refusal to follow court procedure only deepened the perception that she was a woman bent on rejecting authority at every turn. The prosecutor emphasized this as part of his case, painting Linda not just as a woman who acted recklessly, but as someone who had actively escalated the situation with the intent to kill.

 He highlighted the ballistics evidence and the eyewitness testimony that placed her behind the trigger, reinforcing the view that the shooting was a deliberate act. After deliberation, the jury returned with a verdict of guilty. Linda’s actions, combined with her defiant attitude, were seen as aggravating factors in the case.

The court determined that her crime had put others at risk and that she had attempted to avoid lawful arrest, further sealing her fate. The judge handed down the death sentence. Two aggravating circumstances were cited in the decision. the risk of death to others as Linda’s actions had not only killed Miley but also threatened the lives of bystanders and avoiding lawful arrest as Linda had attempted to evade capture after the shooting.

 In the days following the trial, Linda’s rejection of the judicial process continued. She appealed the verdict, but her appeals were based on arguments of procedural error rather than a claim of innocence. Throughout the legal process, she remained steadfast in her belief that the system was corrupt and she had no obligation to respect it.

 This unyielding attitude would define her time on death row as she repeatedly refused to engage with the appeals process or make any efforts to delay her execution. For Linda, the trial and the resulting conviction were just another chapter in a long history of defiance against the system that had sentenced her to death.

 On May 10th, 2002, Linda Cheryl Lion Block became the last woman to be executed in Alabama for 45 years. It marked the end of a lengthy and controversial saga that had begun with the brutal killing of Sergeant Roger Miley in 1993. But what happened in the hours leading up to her execution would continue to haunt those involved and ignite questions about justice and morality that remain relevant today.

Linda’s final moments were marked by a chilling sense of indifference. She refused a last meal, a choice that many saw as an act of defiance, rejecting any form of compassion offered by the system she had long scorned. When asked if she had a final statement, Linda simply declined, leaving the world without any reflection or remorse.

 Witnesses reported that she showed no emotion, a stark contrast to the grief and sorrow that surrounded the case. The woman who had once defiantly rejected the court system now stood before it, ready to meet her fate. She was strapped into the infamous electric chair, Yellow Mama, a relic of Alabama’s past.

 This chair, used in over 200 executions, had become synonymous with the state’s death penalty and its brutal history. Linda’s decision to choose the electric chair over lethal injection was a statement in itself. Despite the availability of a less painful method, Linda’s choice seemed to symbolize her unwavering rejection of the system that had condemned her.

 She faced death on her terms, choosing the execution method with historical weight rather than one that might have spared her some of the physical suffering. The historical significance of her execution was undeniable. The electric chair, once a common form of execution in the United States, was becoming increasingly rare with many states shifting to lethal injection.

 Alabama’s use of yellow mama had become a symbol of a justice system in transition, caught between past and present, progress and tradition. Linda’s execution would not only be the last by electric chair in Alabama, but it would also be the last use of the chair in the state until a shift to more modern methods took place.

 After Linda’s death, George Sibi was also executed in 2005, this time by lethal injection. During his trial, he had consistently claimed that Linda fired the fatal shot that killed Sergeant Miley. His petition for a stay of execution was based on his belief that he had been wrongly convicted, as he argued that the evidence could not definitively prove his role in the fatal shooting.

 However, his claim was dismissed. George’s execution went forward and his death further cemented the tragic and controversial nature of this case. In the aftermath of Linda’s execution, questions about the moral implications of the death penalty lingered. Was justice truly served, or had a woman, disillusioned by the government, been driven to extremes by her beliefs, leading her to an irreversible fate? As public opinion continued to evolve, so too did debates over the fairness of the death penalty, particularly in cases

involving individuals who had been radicalized by their ideologies. Linda Cheryl Lion Block’s execution and the subsequent legal wrangling over George Sibli’s fate raised fundamental questions about how justice should be served, who deserves to die for their crimes, and how society should reconcile the brutality of the death penalty with the ever evolving notions of morality and fairness.

 In the end, Linda’s death became not just a story of criminality and punishment, but a moral crossroads, challenging everyone involved to consider where justice truly lies. As time passed, this case remained a haunting reminder of the far-reaching consequences of belief and the power of defiance against a system that seeks to govern and meet out punishment.

 The echoes of this case would resound in Alabama’s courts and across the nation for years to come, continuing the debate on the true meaning of justice. As Linda Cheryl Lion Block faced her execution, the questions surrounding her actions remained. Was her defiance a product of a broken system, one that failed her and others like her? Or was she simply a criminal driven by radical beliefs to take the life of a man who was only doing his job? The answers are not clear, and that ambiguity continues to haunt this case, stirring debate about

the nature of justice and punishment. Linda’s execution was a chilling reminder of the complexities surrounding the death penalty. Was it truly just to end her life for the crime she committed? Was she a victim of her own convictions, manipulated by a dangerous ideology, or did she knowingly take a life with full awareness of her actions and their consequences? This case forces us to ask difficult questions about the fairness of our justice system, the effectiveness of the death penalty, and whether true justice was served in

Linda’s case. Was there a way to save her from the path she chose, or had she become irredeemable? We want to hear from you. Was justice served or was Linda Cheryl Lion Block a victim of the system? What do you think about the death penalty in cases like hers? Leave your thoughts in the comments below. If you found this story compelling, subscribe to stay updated on more true crime cases that challenge our views on justice and punishment.