In a rare and highly charged execution, South Carolina carried out the firing squad death of Mikall Dean Madi on April 11th, 2025, marking only the second such execution in the state’s history. Madi, 42, faced death after a brutal crime spree and years on death row, ending a long, violent saga.

Mikall Dean Madi’s case is a grim journey marked by violence, evoking shock and sorrow across communities. His crime spree began in Virginia in 2004 when, at 21, he stole a pistol and a vehicle, setting in motion a chilling rampage spanning multiple states.
On July 15th, 2004, Madi entered a convenience store in Winston Salem, North Carolina, and shot clerk Christopher Jason Bogs twice in cold blood. Video footage captured the horror as Madi then robbed his victim’s body, took the beer he’d brought, and left without saying a word.
The violence escalated quickly. Two days later, in Columbia, South Carolina, Madi carjacked a man, tampered with license plates, and was soon confronted by authorities at a gas station. His escape was brief, ending at a rural farm in Calhoun County where he hid in a workshop.
The workshop belonged to James Edward Meyers, a 56-year-old police captain whose family was enjoying a birthday celebration, unaware of the nightmare unfolding. Upon James’s return, Madi ambushed and fatally shot him multiple times, then set his body on fire, stealing the officer’s vehicles and weapons as if nothing had happened.
The brutality left James’s wife, Amy, herself a law enforcement officer, shattered beyond words, the site of her husband’s murder bearing the weight of despair. Madi had crossed into Florida, but his violent spree culminated in a deadly confrontation with law enforcement, leading to his arrest.
The manhunt ended on July 21st, 2004. Extradited to South Carolina, Madi faced charges for multiple offenses, including murder and burglary. Prosecutors emphasized his cold-blooded nature, highlighting a chilling premonition; six years before, he vowed to 𝓀𝒾𝓁𝓁 a police officer.
Despite the defense painting pictures of a traumatic childhood filled with neglect, abandonment, and institutionalization, the jury remained unmoved. In 2006, at just 23, Madi was sentenced to death. His North Carolina conviction for another murder earned him life without parole, ensuring no escape from justice.

Madi’s time on death row was marred by further violence, including a 2009 attack on a correctional officer with fellow inmate Quincy Allen. The 𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒶𝓊𝓁𝓉 left the officer permanently scarred, reinforcing the threat Madi posed even behind bars and stripping him of all privileges.
The execution saga was prolonged by South Carolina’s difficulties obtaining lethal injection drugs, prompting legal and legislative changes. The state reinstated the electric chair and introduced the firing squad as an alternate method, signaling a new, controversial chapter in its capital punishment practices.
Faced with three execution options, Madi chose the firing squad over lethal injection or electrocution, citing fears of prolonged suffering. His lawyers revealed he sought what he believed was the quickest, least torturous method available, setting the stage for a rare and somber final act.
On April 11th, 2025, Madi’s last meal was served: ribeye steak cooked medium, mushroom risotto, broccoli, collard greens, cheesecake, and sweet tea. The atmosphere was tense as he was strapped to the metal chair, hooded, with a target pinned to his chest at exactly 6:01 p.m.
Three corrections officers fired simultaneously from behind a concealed wall, the room also housing the electric chair. Witnesses, separated by bulletproof glass, saw Madi silent, refusing to speak or even acknowledge the presence of his lawyer and others mere feet away.
What followed was haunting. Madi let out a sharp yell, his body convulsing as he groaned twice nearly a minute after being shot. Witnesses described the sound as a deep heave, chest rising and collapsing violently as he fought for breath more than a minute before stillness.
A prison doctor pronounced Madi dead at 6:05 p.m., less than four minutes after the firing squad opened fire. At 42 years old, Madi had spent nearly 68 percent of his life in custody, moving from juvenile facilities to adult prisons, encased in ceaseless confinement and punishment.
The execution marks a rare use of the firing squad in modern U.S. history, a method South Carolina resurrected amid longstanding controversies over lethal injections. Madi’s death prompts reflection on justice, retribution, and the state’s evolving approach toward capital punishment’s darkest moments.
Family members of victims, law enforcement officials, and attorneys bore witness to the event, their silence weighed down by the gravity of what unfolded. Despite his silence, Madi’s story reverberates as a grim testament to violence and the high cost of a tortured path through the criminal justice system.
Madi’s legacy is one of violence, terror,
and pain stretching over two decades — a life marred by crime and tragedy culminating in this lethal final choice. The firing squad’s echo in South Carolina is a stark reminder of the state’s fraught history with capital punishment and the human stories behind it.
This execution reopens fierce debates about the morality, legality, and humanity of death penalty methods. Advocates argue it is a necessary tool for justice; opponents decry it as antiquated and cruel. Madi’s death is certain to fuel both sides, igniting discussions yet again across the nation.
As the curtain fell on Madi’s life, the state moves forward amid complex emotions—justice served, but at what cost? The rare firing squad execution stands as a solemn milestone in South Carolina’s judicial history, its impact reverberating far beyond the prison walls where it unfolded.