My name is Steven Drew Allee. I’m 37 years old and I’ve been sentenced to LWOP, plus a consecutive 25 to life, plus 8 years to serve first. During the month of May 2015, my drug use combined with the surrounding circumstances of my life at the time caused me to lose all hope. I had become homeless and untethered. I lacked the necessary coping tools needed to deal with life stressors.
I made the decision to go on a drug fueled robbery crime spree to support my drug habit and to lash out at my recent ex- girlfriend for breaking up with me and kicking me out of our home. The crime spree came to an end at the fourth place I tried to rob on May 26th, 2015. In my attempt to rob a fast food location, I shot and killed the manager during a confrontation. I fled the scene and was arrested the following day.
I was a 32-year-old drug addict with no concern for anything outside of my personal desires. I have previously never been incarcerated as an adult. I have devoted the rest of my life to change. Becoming alcohol and drug free since my arrest for the first time since I was 17 years old, forced me to look at the grim reality of who I was and the path of destruction I left in my wake.
There was no doubt in my mind I needed to be punished for the atrocities I committed. Faced with what some call a “fork in the road,” I had to ask myself a tough question, “Do I continue on this path of pain and destruction for myself and others, or do I take another route and change myself?” For me the answer was easy. Change needed to happen, and it needed to happen now. It had to start with my total sobriety. I knew I could no longer hide from life. I was an adult with the emotional capacity of a teenager and I had been functioning at that level for years. It was time to grow up.
So that’s what I’ve done, I’ve been 100% sober since my arrest, disciplinary free, and have gained insight into my life and crimes. It has been difficult for me to come to terms with the life I have been fortunate enough to have, where my victim has been denied everything. It weighs heavily on me. I am no longer the careless, callous individual I was before my incarceration; I am a builder and no longer a destroyer.