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Hidden Verdicts

The Spark of Death: Edison’s Gift and the Supreme Court’s Darkest Ruling.

Send us a textIn 1890, William Kemmler made a fateful decision—he chose the electric chair over the hangman’s noose, becoming the first man in history to die by electricity. But what he thought would be a quick and painless death turned into a gruesome spectacle. Behind it all was Thomas Edison, eager to showcase his latest invention in a way no one had expected. As the current surged through Kemmler’s body, the world watched in horror—and the Supreme Court ruled it constitutional.Join us as ...

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06 Oct 2024
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In 1890, William Kemmler made a fateful decision—he chose the electric chair over the hangman’s noose, becoming the first man in history to die by electricity. But what he thought would be a quick and painless death turned into a gruesome spectacle. Behind it all was Thomas Edison, eager to showcase his latest invention in a way no one had expected. As the current surged through Kemmler’s body, the world watched in horror—and the Supreme Court ruled it constitutional.

Join us as we unravel the chilling story of the electric chair’s dark origins, Kemmler’s ill-fated gamble, and how Edison’s “gift” became a tool for death. In this episode, we delve into the court’s controversial decision, the terrifying spectacle of Kemmler’s execution, and the legacy of a ruling that haunted the nation for decades. This isn’t just a tale of crime and punishment—it’s the story of how progress turned deadly, and how the Supreme Court’s darkest ruling paved the way for a century of electric justice.

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Hey folks, just a quick heads up before we dive in. Halloween is creeping around the corner and we figured it's the perfect time to add some extra chills to your day. But we're not talking about ghosts, ghouls, or haunted houses. No. We're taking a look at something even scarier, Supreme Court rulings. Because let's face it, some of the things our justice system has done could make any horror movie look like a walk in the park. Over the next few episodes, we'll be sharing stories that are unsettling, unnerving, and downright terrifying. So buckle up, because what you are about to hear is real. And trust me, it's going to get dark. The idea of being the first at something has always driven people. First to explore new worlds, first to break records. But what about being the first to die by a new invention, or the first to invent a machine designed for one purpose, to kill? Thomas Edison had already changed the world with his inventions, but in his mind, there was one frontier left to conquer death. He began to imagine a new device, a machine that would end the lives quickly, efficiently, cleanly. It would be a breakthrough, a modern marvel. In his lab, Edison and his team worked feverishly testing on animals, pigs, rats, dogs. Each one strapped in, electricity surging through their bodies, twitching, smoking, dead. The concept of execution as a form of justice, has a long and controversial history. For centuries, courts around the world have wrestled with how, and if the state should take a life. In America, the death penalty has been a part of the legal landscape since colonial times. Early rulings upheld execution as legal, but the methods varied, hangings were the most common, and they were far from humane. Many executions by hanging went terribly wrong, leaving the condemned to strangle slowly rather than die instantly. But as technology advanced, so did the search for a better way to kill. The question became, could we make executions less painful, less barbaric? The answer would come in a form of a new machine, one that would change everything. Enter Thomas Edison. The year was 1888, and the state of New York was looking for a new more humane method of execution. Edison had already made a name for himself with the invention of the electric light bulb, but now, electricity would take on a darker role. Was there an ad, a request? How did Edison know the state was looking for a new way to kill? Records show that Edison was eager to experiment with electricity for this purpose. Perhaps he saw it as another challenge, a way to outdo his competitors like George Westinghouse, who had developed an alternating current system. Edison worked feverishly, testing different animals to see how they reacted to high voltage. His team strapped dogs, pigs, and other creatures into makeshift chairs, sending deadly currents to their bodies. There were other ideas in circulation to different methods of execution, all competing to become the standard, but Edison's machine, his electric death machine, stood out. In Edison's lab, the test became more gruesome. The idea was simple. High voltage electricity would stop the heart instantly, but in practice, it wasn't always so clean. Some animals convulsed others twitched, and some simply burned. But through it all, Edison believed that he had found the key to a painless, humane execution. Edison himself reflected on the power of electricity, marveling at how it could illuminate cities and now end lives. His machine would have only one purpose to kill. There was no other use for this invention, and that, perhaps, these would have made it so terrifying. While Edison worked on perfecting his machine, William Kemmler committed a brutal murder. He attacked his common-law wife, Tilly Ziggler, with an axe, striking her again and again in the fit of rage. The crime was so violent, so senseless, the prosecutor said in his closing argument, this man had forfeited his right to life. Tilly, the victim, was a woman trying to survive in a world that offered her few protections. Now, she would be remembered only for her brutal end. The court swasted no time in sentencing Kemmler to death. Kemmler knew that his fate was sealed. The typical punishment for his crime would have been hanging, an agonizing slow death. He had heard the stories of botched hangings, men left strangling, gasping for air as they dangled from the noose. Kemmler feared the noose. Feared the gruesome end and promised. So when the opportunity arose to be the first man executed by this new invention, the electric chair, Kemmler didn't hesitate. He was going to die either way, so why not choose what was being sold as a quick and painless alternative? Why not be the first to die by electricity? In Kemmler's mind, this new method seemed a chance at mercy. A swifter end than the gallows could provide. Little did he know this choice would lead to a death far more horrific than he could have ever imagined. August 6, 1890 The day had come. Kemmler was strapped into the electric chair. The electrodes placed on his body. The witnesses gathered to see this new form of execution. This supposed humane method. The chair, a product of Thomas Edison's vision, stood in the center of the room. A new invention for a new era of justice. The switch was thrown in Kemmler's body jerked violently. The smell of burning flesh filled the room and witnesses watched in horror as smoke rose from his skin. But Kemmler wasn't dead. The first jolt had failed. They had to throw the switch again. And only after the second surge of electricity did Kemmler finally die. The next day, the New York Times published an account of the execution. At 6.40 AM, the current was passed through Kemmler's body for 17 seconds. His face turned bright red and his chest heaved as if he were gasping for breath. His body stiffened with a violent jolt. His arms clenched tightly to the sides of the chair. But he remained alive. The smell of burning flesh began to fill the chamber. And a doctor stepped forward, listening for a heartbeat. "He's not dead," the doctor said, shaking his head. The witnesses, visibly shaken, stared in disbelief as the command was given to apply the current again. This time, the current was applied for nearly 70 seconds. Kemmler's entire body convulses his hands and feet, twitching uncontrollably. Smoke rose from his head in limbs. And the smell was so overwhelming that some of the witnesses began to turn away. The faint, crackling sound could be heard as his scalp began to blister and burn. The skin was charred, blackened from the intensity of the electric current. The room was filled with a grotesque sizzling sound, but witnessed unable to bear the sight any longer cried out, "Great God! He's still alive!" Others were heard, murmuring that the execution was taking longer than expected. The hair on Kemmler's head began to smolder, sending wisp of smoke into the air. His body, rigid and lifeless, was finally declared dead after nearly two minutes of electrical current. One observer described it as an "awful spectacle," far worse than hanging. The horror of Kemmler's execution didn't end in the death chamber. Soon after the courts were asked to decide, was this method of execution too cruel? The gruesome details reported by witnesses in the press fueled the debate. After all, Kemmler's death was not the quick, painless affair it was meant to be. It was agony. The case quickly moved through the legal system with Kemmler's defense team arguing that the electric chair violated the Eighth Amendment's prohibition on cruel and unusual punishment. The New York Court of Appeals was the first to reject the argument, but the defense pressed on, bringing the case to the United States Supreme Court. The case titled "Innery Kemmler" was a petition asking the court to intervene on Kemmler's behalf, but by this time, the execution had already occurred. And so the question wasn't whether Kemmler would be saved, but whether future condemned prisoners would face the same fate. Chief Justice Melville Fuller, speaking for the majority, ruled that the electric chair did not constitute cruel or unusual punishment. The court acknowledged that while the execution may have been gruesome, it did not violate the Constitution. The electric chair, they said, was a more humane alternative to hanging despite the botched execution. This ruling paved the way for the electric chair to become the primary method of execution across the United States for decades to come. And with that, thousands of lives would end in the same terrifying way. Each one strapped into Edison's creation, sentenced to die by the state's hand. This wasn't the end of the story. Over the next century, the electric chair faced legal challenges time and time again. Each case brought fresh arguments, each one claiming that the chair was too cruel to be constitutional. In 1947, 1990, and again in 2008, the courts were asked to review its use. Yet every time the answer was the same. The electric chair was constitutional. It wasn't until the rise of lethal injection that the electric chair began to lose its hold on America's death row. By the early 2000s, most states had replaced the chair with what they believed to be a more humane method of execution. But in a few states, the electric chair remained an option, even as the Supreme Court finally began to question its use. So, why did the courts finally begin to turn against the electric chair? By the 21st century, the horrors of botched executions like Kimlers had caught up with the public's consciousness. Medical experts testified that the electrocution didn't simply stop the heart. It caused excruciating pain, sometimes for minutes before death. In a landmark decision in 2008, the United States Supreme Court hinted that the electric chair might indeed be too cruel. Now, while the ruling didn't directly abolish it, the writing was on the wall. By the time the electric chair was phased out in most states, it had taken thousands of lives, all because of a ruling made in 1890 in the aftermath of William Kimler's death. But the electric chair didn't end with Kimler. Imagine for a moment the most recent person to die in this way. It's dark in the cell block. The prisoner has just eaten their last meal. Something simple, nothing grand. The guards arrive, and it's time. Walk down the halls short, but it feels like an eternity. With each step, the hum of electricity seems to grow louder. The prisoner knows what's coming, and then the door to the chamber opens. In the corner, a single red light bulb glows faintly. Edison's gift still lighting the way more than a century after his invention was first used. The prisoner is strapped into the chair. The guards work quickly, attaching the electrodes at just in their restraints. Everything is ready. The prisoner stares ahead, knowing this is the last thing they'll ever see. A final deep breath, the switch is thrown, and in a flash it's over. The electric death machine claims another victim, just as it has for over a century. The real horror of the electric chair isn't just how it began, nor even in how long it lasted. It's in the fact that time and time again, the courts ruled it constitutional. Nine justices entrusted with interpreting the Constitution decided that this method of execution did not violate the rights of the condemned. Because you see, the Constitution, the same document that guided us in Kimler's time, is still the same today. The words, the principles, that glorious piece of paper remains exactly the same as in 1776 when it was written, in 1890 when Kimler died, and in 2008 when the court finally said no. What has changed is our interpretation of it, and that, perhaps, is the scariest thing of all. Because when it comes to life and death, what truly matters isn't the law itself, but how we choose to interpret it. But if you thought this story was terrifying, wait until you hear the next one. What happens when the court gives the government the power not just to end a life, but to determine who's fit to live in the first place. Next time, we'll dive into Buck v. Bell, where the Supreme Court ruled that forced sterilization of the so-called "unfit" was not only legal, it was for the greater good, because as one justice chillingly put it, three generations of imbeciles are enough. Join us, if you dare, for a story of eugenics, control, and the terrifying power of the state to determine who should and shouldn't exist. Thank you for your support of Hidden Vertics. Your encouragement means the world to us as we continue to explore the untold stories behind the cases that shaped our world. By joining the Hidden Vertics family, you're helping to bring those hidden narratives to light. If you haven't already, please subscribe, share the podcast with others, and leave a review or a comment. It helps more than you know. I'm your host, Jeff, and I look forward to guiding you through more revealing episodes. Thank you for being a part of this journey. [Music] [Music]