… a memorial, a movement, and an act of witness.
My Friend Lisa began as a promise — whispered through glass and remembered in silence. It was born from friendship, from truth, and from grief that refused to stay quiet.
This project exists to honor Lisa Montgomery — not the woman the headlines created, but the one who stitched scraps into beauty, who prayed for others, who sought gentleness in a world that had never shown it to her.
Here, we remember her as she was: human, wounded, creative, kind.
This site is both memorial and movement — an act of witnessing.
Because telling her story fully is how we begin to heal what broke her.
When we remember with truth, we resist with love.
The Faces of Lisa
Before the headlines, there was a little girl who loved animals, who drew pictures, who dreamed of safety.
These are the faces of Lisa Montgomery — the child the world failed to protect and the woman it chose not to understand.
To look at her is to remember that every story holds more than one truth, and every life more than one face.
I carry both of her faces with me — the one the world broke, and the one it never truly saw.
Her story did not end here — and neither should our remembering.
Lisa’s Story
Her Childhood
Lisa endured a lifetime of abuse, exploitation, and neglect. As a child, she was failed by every system meant to protect her.
Our Friendship
I met Lisa while we were both incarcerated. Behind bars, she became her truest self – creative, gentle, faithful and endlessly giving.
Her Legacy
Lisa was executed on January 13, 2021 – the first woman executed by the federal government in nearly 70 years. Her death was injustice. Her life, a testament to survival.
This story has been carried, spoken, and finally written. For those who wish to stay with Lisa’s story longer…
The Story That Would Not Stay Silent
Killing Lisa is not a defense.
It is not an argument.
It is an act of witness.
Written by Lisa Montgomery’s friend, this book traces the life, crime, and execution of a woman the world reduced to a headline—and refuses to let that reduction stand.
This is a story about friendship behind bars, about systems that fail the broken, and about what it costs us to kill in the name of justice.
Lisa was more than what she did.
And remembering her fully is how we begin to tell the truth.
“Telling her story fully is how we begin to heal what broke her.”
Lisa’s story did not end with her execution.
Every time we speak her name with truth, we resist the silence that allowed her suffering.
Her story is not over.
Neither is our responsibility to tell it fully.
When we remember with truth,
we resist with love.