Wilfred “Shiloh” Brown

Photograph of Wilfred “Shiloh” Brown, courtesy of Juan Moreno Haines.

Memorial by Juan Moreno Haines 

Maurice Davis, 48, shared a cell with Wilfred W. “Shiloh” Brown, 76, at San Quentin State Prison for a little more than four years. 

Davis said, on January 16, 2021, during breakfast a correctional officer let him know that Shiloh had passed away that morning. 

“Shiloh is one of the strongest individuals I’ve known because I saw the shit he went through with his cancer,” Davis said. “It hurt me seeing Shiloh go from having a vibrant personality and full of life, going to work and multiple self-help groups to needing a wheelchair to get around, even to church.” He added, “He lost so much weight — it hurts to have seen that.” 

Davis said the last conversation he had with Shiloh was about the status of his compassionate release that his doctor had applied for, months prior. 

“Shiloh shouldn’t have had to suffer like he did,” Davis said. 

Davis said he believes that “the people in charge should release sick individuals in prison during this COVID-19 pandemic so they could be with their families and friends to spend whatever time they have left on this earth with them.” 

Davis said that Shiloh was “highly smart, intelligent and a strategist who could recall things from history further than before he was born and give the dates to go with it,” adding that Shiloh loved Jeopardy and could answer the questions before the contestants. Davis talked about Shiloh’s willingness to share his historical knowledge with anyone he met. 

Shiloh’s ordeal taught Davis to “value life and freedom” as no one wants to die in prison. Although Shiloh didn’t technically die in prison, Davis said dying in an outside hospital is “not the same as being freed,” lamenting that Shiloh had been locked up almost 50 years and “didn’t have the chance to see how the world changed.” 

“I’m glad to have had the opportunity to know Shiloh, even though when we first met, we thought it wasn’t going to work between us as cellies, but God showed us better. We were cellies a little over four years — ain’t that something,” Davis said. 

James “Shorty” Dunbar, a Vietnam War veteran, served in the US Navy seven years as an electronic warfare technician. He knew Shiloh four years. Dunbar, incarcerated 40 years, said, “Shiloh was an Army Trooper who always soldiered on in Vietnam. He’s the guy you want beside you when the shooting starts. He fought for all of us and left no one behind.” 

Dunbar added, “All too often, veterans are incarcerated because of the invisible wounds suffered in combat, i.e. extreme violence, death and dismemberment. They need more mental help than they usually get in prison.” 

Carl Raybon served four years in the United States Marine Corps. He knew Shiloh five years.

Incarcerated 15 years, Raybon said, “He would, surely, point out to me when I was wrong or give another perspective to a situation when I was thinking too far ahead myself. He was one-in-a-million to me in the travels I’ve come to know.” 

Raybon added, “Shiloh afforded me many needed moments of acceptance when I needed to have a sense of being — like an uncle, back home in North Carolina, would have.” 

Ron Ehde, 58, assisted Shiloh in getting to medical appointments. Ehde works for San Quentin’s program offering assistance to incarcerated men with disabilities. He said that Shiloh soon became a friend and brother. 

“I became attached to Shiloh and desired to be his main caregiver. We bonded and I became his go-to guy,” Ehde said. “Over the years, we talked, learned about each other’s life and became very close and supportive of one another.” 

Ehde said Shiloh was kind, gentle, soft-spoken and intelligent. 

“He never complained,” Ehde said. “He had an optimistic and positive outlook on his health — yet realistic,” adding, “He just wanted to stick around for as long as he could.” 

Ehde said in spite of Shiloh’s nearly 50 years of incarceration, he never became bitter, nor did he hold any animosity toward staff. 

“He was accountable for his actions that brought him to this place in his life,” Ehde said. “He was a man of faith and he was at peace.” 

Ehde said that when he learned that Shiloh was a Jeopardy fan, on occasion, he’d drop by his cell during dinner time to watch the show with him. 

“He was good at a lot of subjects,” Ehde said. “What was really great was a friend sent me a comical birthday card, just before Shiloh’s birthday. And of all things, it was three old geezers in cartoon form playing Jeopardy. The card was a godsend. I was able to re-gift it and personalize it for Shiloh just in time for his birthday. He loved it!” 

Ehde said the last time he saw Shiloh was when he took him to the triage section of San Quentin in preparation to go to an outside hospital. 

“I’d gone through this twice before with him, trusting that he’d be back,” Ehde said. “This time, before he left, something told me to pray with him. I am glad I did.” 

Davis said, “Shiloh fought a good fight for about 10 years. I will miss my brother — farewell, brother Shiloh.” 

Ehde added, “Shiloh will be missed. Rest in peace, my friend. I’ll see you when I see you.”