Andolian Juan Ochoa-Napraja Jr., a former drug cartel family member, has no shortage of names, including Lewis James Martin, Yosanti Juan Blanco and the Infamous Paper Boy.
He also has no shortage of experiences to draw from as he works to build a new career as a writer. He says he founded the multi-million dollar drug organizations Junior Cartel and El Santas Muerte Cartel when he was still a teenager.
He says all of that contributed to his reputation as a “notorious Columbian cartel prince,” who helped build a multi-million dollar drug ring.
“My parents raised me to be ruthless, ambitious and calculating in the drug business from a very young age,” he says.
He draws heavily from his life in his first book, Columbian Blood, which he self-published recently.
Andolian wants to walk a fine line, using the stories from his criminal past to fuel his ambitions to rebuild a successful, legal life in the future.
“This life has cost me everything,” he told Criminal U. “One must survive. I will survive.”
Andolian says his parents were critical figures in three of the biggest drug cartels in the world: Bogata’s Cartel Del Norte, Medellian’s Pablo Escobar cartel and Griselda Blanco’s Miami organization.
“These are three of the richest and more powerful cartel’s in history,” he says.
His mother, Rosalyn “Columbian Roz” Martin-Blanco gave birth to Andolian when she was just 13 years old. His father, Felix Ochoa, was based in Bogata. Andolian says the cartel earned $12.5 billion a year selling cocaine.
Wanting to earn favor with his parents and extended family, Andolian launched his Junior Cartel in 1995 and recruited hundreds of young black men. His father helped him build distribution points in places like Los Angeles, New York, Chicago, Detriot, Texas and Miami. He launched another, with older more experienced Columbians working the trade.
Only 5′ 6″ tall and 150 pounds, Andolian said he commanded respect despite his size because of the strength and rapid growth of his own empire, which he says brought in more than $1 million a day in sales.
“I lived a lavish life, like a true prince,” he says, “with world-class homes, sports cars, luxury planes and yachts. I was obsessed with it all.”
It didn’t last long. In 2000, Andolian, aka Lewis Martin of Detroit, was charged with a laundry list of serious charges, eventually leading to convictions for trafficking, conspiracy to distribute money laundering, RICO violations, armed robbery of an armored car, tax invasion and weapons charges. Barely an adult he faced live in federal prison until he won an appeal. He served nearly 15 years before his release in March 2015.
“I taught myself to write in prison,” he says. “I wrote my life story Junior Cartel: Rise of the Infamous Paper Boy, which hasn’t been published yet. I wanted to publish Columbian Blood first.”
He was determined to live a different life once outside, even though it has not been easy. He was sent back to jail for a parole violation. Before he can rebuild his new name and new life, he must serve a few more months as inmate #373542 at Handlon Correctional Facility in Michigan.
The many names were part of the problem he faced on re-entry. He had no legal ID in either his real name or his assumed named, Lewis Martin, as the state knows him. He couldn’t get an ID, which kept him from getting a job or earning a living or even opening a bank account. Without proper ID, he couldn’t get assistance. His many requests to solve the problem were greeted with indifference from his parole supervisors.
“It seems the only thing they want me to do is go back into the cartel business with my family,” he says. “I made a lot of mistakes in my life and now I’m trying to clean them up. But the systems acts like they do want me to. The government doesn’t want me to succeed as a tax-paying citizen. They want me to be a drug lord.”
Which he refuses to be, he says. Instead, he writes all about it.
He admits he still has strong feelings for those he once considered family, his brothers-in-arms who at a very young age felt like they ruled the world.
“We have always said, ‘brothers in life, brothers in death,'” he says. “We had over five hundred main members of the Junior Cartel and 40 main members of the El Santas Muerte Cartel. They all know what those words mean, our bonds last forever in life and in spirit.”
He knows people are fascinated by the life he led, so while some may accuse him of glorifying it, he believes he’s using it for the right reasons. Writing is an outlet for his frustrations, but also a step toward a life beyond his past. He prepares for his next release, knowing many of the same challenges remain.
“If I am still unable to get legal documents and get on with my life, then I am lost. Hopefully, it will be easier this time around, but who knows. All I can do is wait and see what happens,” he says.
And keep putting pen to paper, letting the stories from his “infamous” past spill out, a glance to the past with an eye toward the future.