Blues for Bill Tilley (1962 - 2008)

[col. writ. 5/28/08] (c) '08 Mumia Abu-Jamal

William 'Billy' Tilley has been on Pennsylvania's Death Row for a lifetime.

For much of that time he worked as a librarian, insuring that hundreds of men received weekly reading materials. He seemed to enjoy his job, and performed it in an efficient and upbeat manner.

On early Tuesday, May 27, 2008, around 6:30 am, his long shift on Death Row came to an end.

For it was then that Tilley was found, hanging in his cell.

It was around 1985 when Tilley began his trek to Death Row, although he probably didn't know it then. He was a young drug fiend, who doubled as a petty thief to get what he (thought he) needed to feed his nagging habit.

During one illicit search of a neighbor's house, he found himself in the basement when he heard the front door opening, and the footfalls of someone approaching the basement door. He saw a man's leg descending the staircase, coming ever so much closer. The man apparently sensed someone was in his home, and he began saying what he would do when he caught that someone: and it wasn't nice.

Scared, fidgety, cornered, and high as a kite, Tilley opened up, firing at the approaching figure.

He fired again, grabbed a briefcase, and fled the scene.

If he felt anything, it was filtered through the haze of drugs.

The briefcase was chockfull of cocaine, pills, and other drugs. He used what he wanted, sold what he could, and sought other ways to fill the maw.

Before long he was facing a first degree murder charge and the prospect of a death sentence before Philadelphia's infamous Judge Sabo, known as the hanging judge. It would not take long before he would indeed be consigned to Death Row.

Years of subsequent sobriety allowed him to access what was a remarkable mind, and to become quite the jailhouse lawyer. He wrote briefs and motions for himself and other guys on the block.

Bill Tilley was bright, funny and had moved miles away from the young drug fiend who arrived on Death Row over 23 years ago.

He might not have been a new man, but he was a better one.

One early morning, before the rising of the sun, he reached journey's end, and chose which door to exit.

We may never know why. He taped a 1- page note to the wall shortly before he took the noose.

Tilley was 46 years of age.

--(c) '08 maj