"But in our conversations, he would return again and again to the electric chair, still an object of primal, almost talismanic fear all of this time later."

"'It cooks you,' he would repeat, folding into himself. 'It cooks you.' While the time of his trial is always within reach for Smith, the intervening decades are somewhere else, behind a curtain he won’t or can’t push aside. Smith isn’t in the habit of personal disclosure, in any case. He does not have friends in the nursing home. 'I keep to myself,' he says often. He doesn’t want to know what people were convicted of, and doesn’t ask. He says he didn’t have friends in prison either, and he isn’t exaggerating: 'Minds his own business and has no associates,' reads one behavioral report from 1964. Smith waves every question about those decades away with an impatient, 'It was prison' or 'I don’t think about that.'... Smith now spends most of his time in his room, watching TV. In conversations over the course of a year, the only person I hear him express something like friendship for is Tucker Carlson.... 'He’s my type of guy. We’re the same type,' he says, though he won’t say more.I could see it, somehow. The grievance, the paranoia, the sense that things are stacked against you."

Wrote Annalisa Quinn, in 2022 in the Boston Globe, "Frank Smith was locked up for eight decades. At 98, what would it mean to be free? Likely the longest-serving prisoner in America, he’s been paroled into a Connecticut nursing home. But he’s still not out."

That article is linked in this NYT obituary from a few days ago, "Frank Smith, Who Served 70 Years for Murder, Dies at 101/One of the longest-serving prisoners in American history, he was sent to death row in 1950 before his sentence was commuted to life imprisonment."

The Times obit doesn't mention Smith's affinity for Tucker Carlson... perhaps to maintain the Times reader's empathy for the ancient convict.