Hi!  My name is Willie Marcel Shannon, but my friends call me Shane.  I have a few nicknames, which goes to show that we who are seen as the trash and the scum of the earth, can still bond, share, and make friends.  We all know where nicknames come from:  Either something silly you have done, a way you look, etc.  Still, we will not except a nickname if it comes from a person who does not know us, or a name that doesn't fit something about us.  Shane is what I am called, and for those that watch westerns, the old ones will know the name.  Yep, the hero, the man to save the day, the one the men want to be like, who all the women want to be with, and whom all the kids love.

Through all of this he never loses who he is; he'll not cheat with these women because they are married, he'll not bad mouth the men that despise him because he has the guts to stand up for what he believes in, and the other men only wish they could see in the eyes of their families the same way.  Still he has morals, love in his heart for people that see him as a vagabond, a drifter, no family, no home.  This is who I am known as here on Texas' Death Row.  Shane.

I'll not say I agree with all of the things I just said, because I didn't give myself this nickname, but it is what people have come to call me.  I have cheated, that's for sure, but the rest of the things I can see where they see the connection.  This place takes a lot out of us, if you are weak mentally or physically, you will be swallowed up; not just by the system, but by the other inmates in this place.

I have always been a strong person inside and have had a heart that sees into others.  It has taken me years to understand who I am.  I will say that the environment that I grew up in (Texas Prison) has made me a man sensitive to the acceptance of others.  When out in the world if someone doesn't like you, you can go where you are liked; you don't have to be forced to adapt, or adjust to the others around you.  This is not always a bad thing because it makes us stand our ground as well as see our own flaws.

I came to death row December 15, 1995.  I was 155 pounds with no body or facial hair, still a child in my mind.  I ran from the people that I always thought were tying to control my life, who told me what to do.  Thinking I was a man, I pretended to be a tough guy, unaware I would soon find out that I was still a child, and that I wasn't so tough.  Now I have no choice but to gather everything about myself and prepare to face this new world that I have been thrown into. 

It didn't take me long to find out that I was to face this place alone.  Mama can't help me here.  She can write me letters and send me money, but she can't protect me.  There's no running home.

So I reverted back to what I knew:  talking and walking tough, bluffing my way out of problems.  If you look and talk scared, 9 times out of 10 you are scared.  If it's proven you are scared, you are in big trouble.  Three things you can do then are:  run to the guards every time something happens, fight (and it matters not if you lose or win), or stay in your cell.  If you stay in your cell, the first time you are caught coming out, you become the prison turnout that all men think about when they first come to prison - lover of a bandit, rapist.

I was lucky, I could talk and walk tough, because that's all I'd been doing all of my life.  I didn't have to fight.  I guess it was seen that I wasn't so much all talk because you could always see in ones eyes what the truth is.  I would fight and do what I had to do to protect myself by any means necessary.  Also, this wasn't my first time in the Texas Criminal Justice System, but it was in an adult system.

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