On May 20th, 2025, after spending nearly 23 years on death row, Benjamin Donnie Richie was executed by lethal injection in Indiana. In this video, we’ll uncover what happened, his last meal, and his last [Music] words. But to understand what got him on death row in the first place, we need to go back to where it all started.
It was September 29th, 2000 in Beach Grove, Indiana. That evening, a white van had just been reported stolen from a nearby gas station. And not long after, at the scene of an unrelated traffic incident, officer Matthew Hickeyi spotted the van driving by with three men inside. He ran the plates, confirmed it was the stolen vehicle, and called it in.
The chase was on. Two more officers joined the pursuit, Robert Mercury and William Bill Tony. But the van didn’t make it far. After a short chase, it crashed off the road and into the yard of a quiet neighborhood home. The doors flew open and two of the men bolted. Officer Hickey quickly caught one of them, Michael Greer.
But the second man, 20-year-old Benjamin Richie, ran hard. Officer Bill Tony took off after him, chasing him through backyards, over fences, past sheds, and dodging swing sets. Then suddenly, Benjamin reached for something. He turned, pulled a 9mm Glock, and fired five times. Bill was wearing his bulletproof vest, but one bullet hit just above it, striking him in the upper chest.
He managed to fire back once, but then his legs gave out. He collapsed in the grass, his service weapon slipping from his hand. Officer William Bill Tony died right there in that backyard just one day before his 32nd birthday. He left behind a wife and two young daughters, and he’d only been a police officer for 2 years. For reasons no one fully understood, Benjamin Richie had been carrying a wig that night.
Maybe it was part of a plan. Maybe just paranoia. Either way, after the shooting, he tossed both the wig and the gun into a patch of thick brush and disappeared into the dark. Somehow, he slipped past the perimeter and made it to a friend’s house, still free, at least for the moment.
Over a 100 officers, SWAT teams, deputies, and investigators launched a manhunt that stretched through the night. Roads were blocked, neighborhoods locked down. The search for Benjamin Richie was urgent, and no one was going home until he was found. Hours passed, then the break came. Someone made a call, an anonymous tip that led them straight to a house.
And when officers arrived that morning, Benjamin was inside. This time, he didn’t run. He didn’t resist, and they took him into custody without a fight. The house belonged to Michael Moody, the third man from the stolen van, and they arrested him, too. The manhunt was over, but the real fight inside the courtroom was just beginning.
In there, it became clear who Benjamin Richie really was. Born on May 30th, 1980, Benjamin came into a world already stacked against him. He never knew who his real father was. And his mother, Marian Martin, struggled with alcohol and drugs, even while pregnant with him. She worked as a stripper, moving from place to place, unstable and unreliable.
And by the time Benjamin was just 3 years old, she had already abandoned him twice. By the time he started school, the damage was already showing. He acted out, fell behind, and by 9th grade, he dropped out completely. Then at age 10, he landed in a psychiatric hospital where doctors diagnosed him with bipolar disorder and other cognitive problems they believed were rooted in the chaos of his early childhood.
He needed help, but the system didn’t have much to give. In August 1998, just after his 18th birthday, Benjamin was arrested for burglary and sent to prison. By 2000, he was back out, but not free. He was still on probation, still drifting, and his life was far from stable. His troubled life wasn’t behind him. It was just waiting for another chance to catch up.
And on September 29th, 2000, that’s exactly what happened. After his arrest for the shooting of officer Bill Tony, prosecutors wasted no time. And within weeks, Marian County announced they’d be seeking the death penalty. But this wasn’t going to be a quiet case. Benjamin had already given an interview from jail, insisting the shooting was an accident.
He claimed the gun slipped from his hand and that he heard it go off several times by itself as he was running away. One of his friends backed him up. He said Benjamin never meant to pull the trigger, that it all happened too fast. According to him, Benjamin panicked during the chase. He was already on probation, and another arrest could have sent him back to prison for eight more years.
That fear, he said, is what pushed Benjamin over the edge. But the damage was done, and whether anyone believed his version or not, a police officer was dead. On August 10th, the jury came back with their decision. guilty on all counts. Murder, autotheft, possession of an unlicensed firearm, and resisting arrest.
And while in court, things heated up. Officer William Tony’s widow, DD, sat through it all. And later, she told reporters exactly what she wanted, for Benjamin to be executed. Nothing else, she said, would be justice. But Benjamin showed her no respect. During the proceedings, he interrupted her repeatedly, laughed in court, and when she called him a coward, he looked her in the eye, and called her the b- word.
There was no remorse, not once. At sentencing, Richie’s lawyers tried to save him. They said he had suffered brain damage, that his mother had used drugs while pregnant, and that he grew up in chaos and never had a chance. They painted a picture of a broken boy who grew into a broken man, but the jury didn’t agree.
They didn’t see a victim. They saw a killer. The prosecution told the jury that suffering doesn’t excuse murder. That plenty of people grow up in chaos and don’t become killers. And in this case, a man had gunned down a police officer in cold blood. Then came the detail that sealed it. Tattooed on Benjamin’s neck was a number, 37.
And it wasn’t random. That was Officer Tony’s unit number, a permanent trophy inked into his skin. a reminder he intended to brag about for the rest of his life in prison. But he wouldn’t get that chance. On August 14th, the jury came back with their decision. After just 3 hours of deliberation, the verdict was unanimous.
Benjamin would be sentenced to death. He was transferred to Indiana’s death row. And for most, that would be the end of the story. But for Benjamin, it wasn’t. At least not yet. Thousands of miles away in Sweden, a woman named Ivana watched a documentary about death row inmates.
And something about Benjamin caught her attention. She couldn’t explain it, just that it stayed with her. So, she reached out and her letters turned into conversations. Before long, Ivana flew across the ocean to meet him in person. And there, separated by prison glass, they somehow fell in love. For nearly four years, Ivana returned again and again.
And Indiana’s Department of Correction allowed it, even for a man awaiting execution. And in case you’re wondering, yes, Indiana’s death row is a little different. As you can see here, Benjamin had a real cat walking inside his cell. And that’s not a figure of speech. Death row inmates in Indiana are actually allowed to keep cats as pets.
Why? It’s part of a program aimed at reducing isolation and improving behavior. Anyway, for years, Benjamin appealed again and again, but no one wanted to hear what he said. And then came the date, May 20th, 2025, nearly 23 years after he first entered death row. In his final weeks, Benjamin asked for mercy. He filed for clemency, telling the parole board he was sorry, that he wasn’t the same man who pulled the trigger in 2000, that he still had something left to give, something good.
But no chances were left. At 44 years old, Benjamin Donnie Richie was executed by lethal injection in Indiana. For his last meal, Benjamin chose the tour of Italy from Olive Garden, a plate of chicken paragana, lasagna, and fetachccini alfredo. Just after midnight, the execution process began.
His final words were simple. I love my family, my friends, and all the support I’ve gotten. I hope they all find peace. At 12:46 a.m., Benjamin was pronounced dead.
