Looking in the eyes of a killer

The execution of Carlos Cuesta-Rodriguez

At exactly 10 a.m. Thursday, Aug. 13, the curtain was raised inside the execution chamber at Oklahoma State Penitentiary and the state of Oklahoma began carrying out the death warrant for Carlos Cuesta-Rodriguez. For those permitted inside the witness room, the moments leading up to the execution were marked by an almost unsettling quiet. 

The unsettling quiet began at the entrance. The halls leading toward the execution area were made of solid gray concrete. The steps leading to the viewing room were equally stark. 

There was little conversation as witnesses entered and took their seats. Inside, the room was occupied by members of Cuesta-Rodriguez's family, media witnesses, state dignitaries and law enforcement personnel. 

The air carried the sharp smell of cleaning chemicals mixed with someone's body spray. Before spectators could process what they were smelling, at precisely 10 a.m., the curtain separating the witnesses from the execution chamber was raised. 

Cuesta-Rodriguez, 70, was strapped to a gurney with full chest restraints. An intravenous line had been placed in his arm. 

At his feet stood a spiritual adviser, while a Spanish-language interpreter was present to translate what was being said. A state official read the death warrant - the formal legal authorization directing prison officials to carry out a sentence of death after a conviction, sentence and appeals process have been completed. It identifies the person to be executed and authorizes the state to carry out the court's judgment at a specified time and place. 

Cuesta-Rodriguez was given an opportunity to make a final statement. He declined. At 10:01 a.m., the first of three chemicals entered his body. 

The execution chamber remained quiet as the process continued. Cuesta-Rodriguez was convicted of first-degree murder in Oklahoma County on Aug. 15, 2007, and sentenced to death for the killing of Olimpia Fisher. 

Court records show the case stemmed from Fisher's 2003 murder at the Oklahoma City home she shared with Cuesta-Rodriguez. The Oklahoma Court of Criminal Appeals later upheld the conviction and death sentence. 

According to court records, Fisher and her daughter lived with Cuesta-Rodriguez and the relationship between Fisher and Cuesta-Rodriguez had deteriorated before the killing. Prosecutors said Cuesta-Rodriguez shot Fisher twice in the face during an argument. 

Back in the execution chamber, at 10:04 a.m., Cuesta-Rodriguez's eyes began to flutter rapidly. His breathing became deep and labored. 

He looked toward his family. Family members were crying in their seats. Cuesta-Rodriguez mouthed the words, “I love you” to his family. 

By 10:07 a.m., his body appeared relaxed. A doctor entered the chamber and performed a sternal rub; a firm pressure applied to the breastbone as part of a clinical assessment of responsiveness. The doctor determined that Cuesta-Rodriguez was fully unconscious. 

The remaining two chemicals entered his body by 10:08 a.m. His breathing slowed dramatically and his coloring began to change. 

At 10:12 a.m., the doctor returned to the chamber and checked his heartbeat and pupil dilation. The doctor then pronounced Cuesta-Rodriguez dead. 

At 10:13 a.m., the state recorded that the death warrant had been carried out. The proceedings were finished. 

The curtain closed. 

Before his execution, Cuesta-Rodriguez was served the last meal he had requested: a Cuban sandwich, Rocky Road ice cream, doughnuts and a bottle of water. The meal was a final reminder of the individual behind the prison number and death sentence, a man whose life had ended decades after the crime that sent him to death row. 

Cuesta-Rodriguez had spent nearly 19 years on death row following his 2007 conviction. The Oklahoma Court of Criminal Appeals affirmed his conviction and death sentence in 2010 and subsequent federal and state appeals failed to overturn the judgment. 

In July 2026, the Oklahoma Pardon and Parole Board denied his request for clemency. Attorney General Gentner Drummond had urged the board to reject clemency, saying Cuesta-Rodriguez had brutally murdered Fisher after months of stalking and abuse. 

The execution took place at Oklahoma State Penitentiary, commonly known as “Big Mac,” a name tied to the prison's home in McAlester. OSP is one of Oklahoma's oldest correctional institutions. 

The prison was established in 1908, shortly after Oklahoma statehood, when the Legislature appropriated money to construct a maximum-security penitentiary on 1,556 acres northwest of McAlester. Prisoners who had previously been sent to Kansas were brought back to Oklahoma to help construct the facility. 

The first structures included the West Cellhouse and Administration Building. The Rotunda and East Cellhouse were constructed later as the prison expanded. 

Today, OSP remains a maximum-security facility and is home to Oklahoma's death row and execution chamber. State records describe the prison as one of the oldest penitentiaries west of the Mississippi River. 

However, behind the prison's imposing walls is another part of OSP history that is considerably different from the somber scene witnessed Thursday morning. The Oklahoma State Penitentiary rodeo became a nationally known event, drawing spectators to watch inmates participate in rodeo events inside the prison grounds. 

The facility once contained a rodeo arena capable of seating approximately 1,000 people. A state inspection report noted that the arena had been closed because of budget cuts but its presence remains part of the institution's unusual history. 

The prison rodeo became one of the more recognizable traditions associated with McAlester and the penitentiary, creating an unlikely contrast between the public spectacle of rodeo and the highly controlled environment surrounding death row. 

Thursday's execution was far removed from those days. There were no cheers, no arena crowd and no spectacle. There was only the gray concrete, the quiet hallway, a room filled with witnesses and a family watching the final moments of a man they loved. 

For Fisher's daughters, Thursday marked the end of a wait that began 23 years ago. In a statement following the execution, Cinthya Allen and Katya Wallis remembered their mother and emphasized that their family had continued to honor her life rather than allow her death to define her memory. 

“23 years ago, our mom was taken,” Allen and Wallis said. “We continue to honor and love her every day through our shared memories and raising our families to reflect the love and faith in God that she taught us.Our faith in Jesus has allowed us to forgive.”

They also used the anniversary of their mother's death to call attention to domestic violence. 

“We hope this tragedy and loss remind everyone of the importance of domestic violence awareness,” the statement said. 

The family also expressed gratitude toward the law enforcement officers and members of the justice system who remained involved throughout the lengthy legal process. 

“We will always be thankful to the law enforcement & justice teams who have supported us through this journey,” the family said. 

Oklahoma Attorney General Gentner Drummond said the execution brought justice for Fisher and expressed hope that her family could find peace after years of grief. 

“Justice has been served for Olimpia Fisher whose life was tragically cut short,” Drummond said in a press release. “I pray that her family finds some measure of peace after enduring 23 years of unimaginable grief.” 

Drummond previously said Cuesta-Rodriguez should not receive clemency and that Fisher's family had endured decades of pain following the murder. 

After the curtain closed at 10:13 a.m., the witness room remained quiet. 

For nearly two decades, Cuesta-Rodriguez's name had been part of Oklahoma's death-row system. On Thursday morning, that legal process came to its final conclusion. The execution itself lasted approximately 13 minutes from the raising of the curtain until the state recorded that the warrant had been carried out. 

Outside the chamber, witnesses later gave brief accounts of what they had seen. 

Inside, there was nothing theatrical about the ending. There was a gray room, a restrained man, a family watching through glass, a spiritual adviser standing nearby, an interpreter prepared to ensure every word was understood and a state carrying out a sentence that had been imposed nearly two decades earlier. Then came the final declaration - 10:12 a.m. death pronounced. 10:13 a.m. the state recorded completion of the warrant. The curtain closed. After 23 years of waiting for justice for Fisher, there was nothing left to witness.