The 51-year-old founder of the bloody Crips gang died by injection at San Quentin Prison just after midnight for the murders of four people in two 1979 holdups, professing his innocence to the very end, even when an admission of guilt might have helped save his life.
In the media's haste to canonize this person of questionable humanity, they always seem to neglect mentioning the more salient facts of the case. Williams was overheard joking at one time about the noises one of his victims made while he was in his death throes. Whether or not Williams actually wrote any of the children's books is arguable at best. And then there is the very reasonable point made by Schwartzenegger.
I do not rejoice in the death of this man, but I shed no tears either. He will never hurt anyone ever again. No family will ever have to suffer the anguish of the loss of a loved one in a senseless act of random violence by this man.