Tony Carruthers Convicted Of Burying 3 People Alive In A Cemetery —Survived His own Execution

On May 21st, 2026, Tony von Kurthers was strapped to a gurney at the Riverbend Maximum Security Institution in Nashville, Tennessee. The state of Tennessee spent the following 90 minutes attempting to end his life. They ultimately failed, not because of a last-minute court intervention or a sudden act of gubernatorial mercy, but because they could not locate a viable vein.

For more than an hour, members of the execution team punctured his skin repeatedly, over a dozen times, desperately trying to establish the intravenous line required for the lethal injection. His attorney, Maria Deliberado, was inside the chamber as a witness to the unfolding horror. She later recounted to reporters that she watched him wincing in pain and groaning in agony as the process dragged on.

After 90 agonizing minutes, the execution attempt was finally called off. Governor Bill Lee subsequently issued a one-year reprieve. Deliberado was speaking to the press outside when the news arrived; she stopped mid-sentence and began to cry, stating that she was incredibly grateful. Tony Kurthers, who had been convicted of a triple murder in 1996 and had spent 30 years on death row, walked out of the chamber alive.

The roots of this harrowing ordeal stretch back to February 1994 in Memphis, Tennessee. Three people vanished without a trace: 21-year-old Marcelos Anderson, his 43-year-old mother, Deoy Anderson, and Marcelo’s teenage friend, Frederick Tucker, who was just 17. They were reported missing, and for a full week, the trail remained completely cold, leaving their families in a state of agonizing uncertainty.

On March 3rd, investigators were finally led to the Rose Hill Cemetery on Elvis Presley Boulevard in Memphis. They began digging beneath an existing casket, moving through several inches of dirt until they uncovered a piece of plywood. Beneath it, they found all three victims. Every person had their hands bound behind their backs, and young Frederick Tucker’s feet were bound as well, with clear signs of bruising around his neck.

A red sock was discovered wrapped around Deoy Anderson’s neck, a grim signature of the violence they had endured. The medical examiner performed the autopsies and reached a conclusion that would define the trajectory of this case for the next three decades. He testified that all three victims were alive at the time they were buried, suggesting a slow, traumatic end.

Marcelos Anderson had been shot three times, one of which severed his spinal cord and left him paralyzed from the neck down, though the wound was not instantly fatal. Deoy Anderson eventually died from asphyxia, her lungs filling with dirt as the immense weight of the earth pressed down upon her. They were found layered in the grave: the mother at the bottom, with her son and his friend resting on top of her.

Investigators alleged that Marcelos Anderson was involved in the local drug trade in North Memphis and that Tony Kurthers, a man from the same neighborhood, wanted to seize control of that territory. The state claimed that Kurthers and an accomplice named James Montgomery had planned the kidnapping to rob Marcelos and eliminate him as a business rival. Deoy and Frederick, in the eyes of the prosecution, were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

A third suspect, Jonathan Montgomery, who was James’s brother, eventually led the police to the burial site. However, before his own trial could even commence, Jonathan was found hanged in his jail cell. This left only two men to face the grim charges of the state: James Montgomery and Tony von Kurthers. Both men were charged with three counts of first-degree premeditated murder and faced the ultimate penalty of death.

The prosecution’s case against them rested heavily on witness testimony, the narrative of a violent drug territory dispute, and the words of a man named Albert Shaw. Shaw testified that it was Kurthers who had meticulously orchestrated the killings. Before the trial officially began, Kurthers went through six different court-appointed attorneys; some he dismissed for incompetence, while others he accused of actively conspiring against him.

His request for a seventh attorney was denied by the court, and the judge ultimately ruled that Kurthers would have to represent himself. Kurthers suffered from documented mental health issues, and his later legal counsel argued that these conditions were the very reason he kept dismissing his lawyers. They contended it was a result of illness, not a conscious choice to waive his right to counsel, but the state maintained that the court had followed proper procedure.

Thus, Tony Kurthers, a man struggling with mental illness and possessing no formal legal training, stood alone in a courtroom to argue for his own life. The medical examiner’s testimony about the victims being buried alive was the most devastating moment of the trial, providing an emotionally overwhelming detail that deeply affected the jury. Kurthers, lacking the expertise to challenge such a claim, did not cross-examine the doctor on this point.

The jury heard the testimony completely unchallenged and convicted him on all three counts. Prosecutor Bobby Carter told the jury during the sentencing phase that if these murders did not qualify for the death penalty, then no crime ever would. Consequently, Kurthers received three death sentences, one for each victim. For years, the case remained stagnant until the legal landscape began to shift.

In 2000, an appeals court ruled that Kurthers and Montgomery should have been tried separately. Montgomery was granted a new trial and eventually took a plea deal for 27 years, leading to his release from prison in 2015. Tony Kurthers, however, remained on death row, trapped in a legal limbo that seemed to ignore the changing circumstances of his case.

In 2010, Montgomery provided a statement to an investigator claiming that Tony Kurthers was not involved in the kidnapping or the murders at all. He alleged that he had carried out the crimes himself and had dispatched a man named Ronnie “Eyeball” Irving to abduct Deoy Anderson. While Montgomery is a convicted murderer and courts have not found his statement sufficient to overturn the conviction, it raised profound questions.

Furthermore, fingerprints recovered from the house where the abduction is believed to have occurred did not match Tony Kurthers, James Montgomery, or any other person charged in the case. Six fingerprints remain completely unidentified even 30 years later. There is also an unidentified male DNA profile found on the fabric used to bind the victims that has never been tested against Ronnie Irving.

Although Irving, the alternative suspect named by Montgomery, was killed in 2002, his biological samples and fingerprints remain on file. Astonishingly, no comparison has ever been conducted. In 2005, a forensic expert testified at a post-conviction hearing that the victims were likely dead before being placed in the grave, directly contradicting the medical examiner’s initial findings.

The original medical examiner eventually backed away from his sensational “buried alive” conclusion. Two members of the original jury even signed sworn statements declaring that they would not have supported the death penalty had they been aware of the contradictory forensic evidence. To make matters worse, in August 2024, the state disclosed that Albert Shaw—the key witness who claimed Kurthers arranged the murders—had been a paid government informant.

This critical fact was never disclosed to the defense and was never revealed to the jury during the trial. When the day of the execution finally arrived, Kurthers was brought to the chamber at 10:00 in the morning. Protocol dictated that witnesses behind the curtain could not see inside until the lethal injection process was already underway. The medical team established a primary line, but the attempt to set the backup line failed.

The execution team members punctured him repeatedly over the next hour. A later court filing alleged that the physician overseeing the procedure had not performed a central line placement in over 13 years, highlighting a systemic failure in the state’s execution protocol. Maria Deliberado later described the experience as an absolute nightmare to witness.

Journalists and officials waited in the dark of the viewing room, while the curtain remained tightly drawn. No one on the outside understood the chaotic scene transpiring behind the barrier. Nashville reporter Steven Hale later remarked that the entire experience was deeply disorienting. After 90 minutes of failed attempts, the officials finally halted the process and sent Kurthers back to his cell.

His attorneys immediately filed emergency motions, arguing that the repeated, failed attempts to establish an IV line constituted cruel and unusual punishment. The ACLU characterized the entire event as a botched and torturous attempt at state-sanctioned killing. Shortly thereafter, and without providing any public explanation, Governor Bill Lee granted a one-year reprieve.

Tony Kurthers is only the ninth person in modern American history to survive an attempted execution. Of the eight individuals before him, four were later executed during a second attempt, while others died on death row from natural causes before the state could try again. This one-year reprieve ensures that Tennessee cannot attempt to execute him again until at least May 2027.

The ACLU continues to fight for DNA testing in federal court, arguing that the truth remains buried in the untested evidence. The unmatched fingerprints and the mysterious DNA profile remain potential keys to unlocking the case, yet the state has not wavered on the validity of the original conviction. They maintain that the case was prosecuted lawfully and that the appeals process has already been exhaustive.

Three lives were undeniably lost in Memphis in 1994, and their families have carried the weight of that tragedy for over three decades. That reality is not in question, but what has been contested since 1996 is whether Tony von Kurthers is the individual who should be held accountable. A jury said yes, and courts have upheld that verdict for years, yet the foundation of the conviction is riddled with inconsistencies.

A key witness was revealed to be a paid informant whose status was intentionally hidden for 30 years. The central medical finding used to secure the death penalty was later debunked, and critical physical evidence remains untested. The trial was presided over by a man his own attorneys described as unfit, and his co-defendant was released over a decade ago.

As May 2027 approaches, Tennessee may attempt to carry out the execution once more. Some observers view this case as justice being served through a thorough and deliberate legal process that ensures finality. Others see a man who has survived both 30 years of death row and a failed execution, all while the state refuses to test evidence that could definitively prove his innocence or guilt.

The existence of these two opposing perspectives highlights the ongoing tension in the American justice system. Tony Kurthers has survived the unthinkable, but he has only been granted a temporary stay. If the DNA and fingerprint evidence still exists—and it does—one must wonder why the state refuses to test it before moving forward with a second, potentially lethal attempt.

The story of Tony von Kurthers serves as a stark reminder of the complexities and potential failures inherent in capital punishment. As the clock ticks toward 2027, the questions surrounding the 1994 murders remain as relevant and urgent as ever. The pursuit of truth and the preservation of human life continue to clash in a case that may never truly be closed until the evidence is finally heard.