News (Media Awareness Project) - CN BC: Shaking Off The Past |
Title: | CN BC: Shaking Off The Past |
Published On: | 2010-03-10 |
Source: | Salmon Arm Observer (CN BC) |
Fetched On: | 2010-04-02 03:14:06 |
SHAKING OFF THE PAST
Notorious: Colin Martin Talks About His Life Choices.
Colin Hugh Martin considers himself an honest, responsible,
God-fearing man.
Martin is the man who was labeled the ringleader of a Canada-U.S.
marijuana smuggling operation between 1997 and 1999. It ended
following a 13-month RCMP investigation. Of the 17 arrested, including
his father Donald and brother Damyen, Colin was the only one to face a
major conviction.
Currently, Martin is facing a U.S. extradition order for his alleged
involvement in a second cross-border drug smuggling operation that was
taken down in 2009 through a Canada-U.S. investigation dubbed
Operation Blade Runner.
Canadian-actor Jason Priestly has bought the rights to film a movie
about Blade Runner and one of the alleged co-conspirators, 24-year-old
Samuel Lindsay-Brown, who hung himself in a Spokane jail after U.S.
Drug Enforcement agents caught him stateside transporting drugs in a
helicopter leased through Martin's Malakwa company, Gorge Timber Ltd.
While he denies any involvement in Blade Runner, Martin will tell you
that Lindsay-Brown might still be alive today if the two had never
met. In fact, Martin is not the least bit reserved when it comes to
talking about his past, from his early dealings with cocaine, to the
drug-smuggling operation he, his father and brother were involved in.
Martin's reputation in the Shuswap - as a notorious drug dealer -
precedes him. But to Martin, it's all a gross exaggeration.
"It's funny to look at from my point of view, as far as the celebrity
and the famous drug guy from Malakwa - I don't know the word I'm
looking for," the 37-year-old Martin says at the kitchen table in his
Malakwa home. "It's funny how things can get blown out of proportion
and how easy that seems to happen in the media.
"Some things make a great story and I guess if it wasn't me that they
were talking about, I might think that's a good story."
Martin laughs at the notion of being thought of as some kind of
gangster. A quick look around his home doesn't reveal signs of any
gangster lifestyle Hollywood might be interested in. Though spacious,
there are no lavish furnishings to be seen. There are no fast cars in
the driveway (a Dodge Viper he once owned was seized in 1999 when he
was charged with possession of proceeds of crime). There are no
firearms sitting around, or stacks of money, or wrapped bundles of
suspicious materials. In fact, what stands out most are the numerous
bright children's toys. Martin and partner Jen Cahill have five
children between them. Martin says his kids are his life, and if
there's one lesson he hopes to teach them, it's that one must take
responsibility for their actions.
"Yeah, there might be some people out there that are truly evil
people, but this finger pointing. That's just not who I am," says
Martin. "I am a God-fearing person and I believe that there's going to
be a day that all of us are going to be judged, and all of our
skeletons are going to come out of the closet."
Martin wound up in the Malakwa area with his mom and siblings around
1980 to be with their grandma and grandpa, Hugh and Isabelle Gresham,
who owned and operated the Malakwa cafe.
"Us kids peeled the potatoes and filled the pop and pumped the gas -
it was kind of a nice little arrangement really," says Martin.
Later Martin started working in the bush, largely in the shake and
shingle industry. The work was immediately rewarding, and at Grade 8
he dropped out of school to work full time.
"I felt that doing shake and shingles was what I wanted to do in life
and I wanted to get right at it, so I quit school," said Martin.
Around the time he was 19, Martin says the NDP government decided to
pull out of funding the shake and shingle industry. This, he says, had
a crippling effect on the community.
Those with permits to harvest wood suddenly had a deadline to finish
the work. Martin says he was about two weeks from finishing a job when
his partner, Robbie Muskett was fatally injured on the job.
"We were falling the trees, cutting them to length for the helicopter
to lift out," said Martin. "Robbie, I think he was about 23, 24 years
old, and a tree rolled down the bank and squished his head onto a
stump. That was probably the most shocking, horrible experience that's
ever happened in my life. I remember it like it was yesterday."
After this experience, Martin says he could no longer do the work. He
was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress syndrome and spent about
eight months on worker's compensation. Martin eventually arranged for
a buyout from the compensation board. He says they paid him $11,000 to
get his pilot's licence. That pursuit ended when Martin learned his
eyesight wasn't good enough.
Around the same time, Martin began selling and using cocaine. One week
during the three-month period he was using, Martin says he wound up in
hospital on five separate occasions. The experience scared him off the
drug, but did not dissuade him from selling.
"I wish I could say yeah, I wound up in the hospital and at the end of
the day I thought, 'Gee, this is horrible stuff and I shouldn't be
selling this to people.' But that's not the way it was."
Martin's career change, from cocaine peddler to marijuana smuggler,
began one fateful day when his father showed up at his doorstep,
claiming he knew people in Eugene, Oregon who were in the pot
business. Colin said he could get his hands on 10 pounds of pot, and
Donald knew people with property on the Canada-U.S. border they could
move it through. Soon after, with his brother Damyen's help, the three
were successful in smuggling the popular B.C. bud into the States and
made a quick, $30,000 profit.
"It was only 10 pounds, but at the time we were thinking, 'that's a
lot of pot,'" says Martin. "It's strange, but that's how small-time it
was and how it really all started."
The operation continued to grow to a point where Martin was pulling in
about $200,000 a week. And, despite the incredible risks involved, it
was work he was more comfortable with.
"I thought this is great," said Martin. "This is much less stress than
dealing cocaine."
In 2004, Donald and Damyen were sentenced to terms of house arrest
after pleading guilty to conspiring to export marijuana to the U.S.
Colin says he also pleaded guilty, seeking the same punishment. Two
years later he was found guilty on eight counts of money laundering,
conspiracy to traffic in drugs, conspiracy to export drugs and
possession of proceeds of crime. He was later sentenced to
two-and-a-half years in prison but, with an appeal still before the
court, has yet to serve time.
As for the U.S. extradition order, Martin has no intention of going
back to the U.S. anytime soon. He maintains the only reason his name
is in a U.S. court indictment is because of a series of brief
exchanges he had with U.S. Drug Enforcement agents, beginning in
September 2009, where he was attempting to demonstrate to CBC
reporters the agency's willingness to "get in bed with the bad guys."
While he recognizes there are indeed bad guys involved in the
drug-smuggling business, Martin doesn't include himself among them.
"There are people out there who are involved in this industry who are
not these monsters the cops would like you to believe," said Martin.
"They are normal people just like you and me. I feel I'm a pretty
normal person."
To one end of Martin's 30-acre property sits a spacious yet near-empty
workshed. On one side of the shed is a gravel pit Martin hopes will
become profitable as his competitors in the area start running out of
product. To the other side runs a creek on which he hopes to establish
an independent power project. He says the plans are already before the
province for approval. But Martin is reserved about both projects,
admitting past attempts at going legit have been a challenge.
Asked if he is still somehow involved in the drug trade, Martin admits
his past has been difficult to shake.
"I just want to be right up front, but then there's the other side of
me that says you need to watch what you say," said Martin. "You do
have kids who rely on you. I'm an honest person. I would not sit here
and look you in the eyes and tell you I'm a perfect, law-abiding
citizen. Do I break the law? Sure I do. That's all I have to say on
that."
Notorious: Colin Martin Talks About His Life Choices.
Colin Hugh Martin considers himself an honest, responsible,
God-fearing man.
Martin is the man who was labeled the ringleader of a Canada-U.S.
marijuana smuggling operation between 1997 and 1999. It ended
following a 13-month RCMP investigation. Of the 17 arrested, including
his father Donald and brother Damyen, Colin was the only one to face a
major conviction.
Currently, Martin is facing a U.S. extradition order for his alleged
involvement in a second cross-border drug smuggling operation that was
taken down in 2009 through a Canada-U.S. investigation dubbed
Operation Blade Runner.
Canadian-actor Jason Priestly has bought the rights to film a movie
about Blade Runner and one of the alleged co-conspirators, 24-year-old
Samuel Lindsay-Brown, who hung himself in a Spokane jail after U.S.
Drug Enforcement agents caught him stateside transporting drugs in a
helicopter leased through Martin's Malakwa company, Gorge Timber Ltd.
While he denies any involvement in Blade Runner, Martin will tell you
that Lindsay-Brown might still be alive today if the two had never
met. In fact, Martin is not the least bit reserved when it comes to
talking about his past, from his early dealings with cocaine, to the
drug-smuggling operation he, his father and brother were involved in.
Martin's reputation in the Shuswap - as a notorious drug dealer -
precedes him. But to Martin, it's all a gross exaggeration.
"It's funny to look at from my point of view, as far as the celebrity
and the famous drug guy from Malakwa - I don't know the word I'm
looking for," the 37-year-old Martin says at the kitchen table in his
Malakwa home. "It's funny how things can get blown out of proportion
and how easy that seems to happen in the media.
"Some things make a great story and I guess if it wasn't me that they
were talking about, I might think that's a good story."
Martin laughs at the notion of being thought of as some kind of
gangster. A quick look around his home doesn't reveal signs of any
gangster lifestyle Hollywood might be interested in. Though spacious,
there are no lavish furnishings to be seen. There are no fast cars in
the driveway (a Dodge Viper he once owned was seized in 1999 when he
was charged with possession of proceeds of crime). There are no
firearms sitting around, or stacks of money, or wrapped bundles of
suspicious materials. In fact, what stands out most are the numerous
bright children's toys. Martin and partner Jen Cahill have five
children between them. Martin says his kids are his life, and if
there's one lesson he hopes to teach them, it's that one must take
responsibility for their actions.
"Yeah, there might be some people out there that are truly evil
people, but this finger pointing. That's just not who I am," says
Martin. "I am a God-fearing person and I believe that there's going to
be a day that all of us are going to be judged, and all of our
skeletons are going to come out of the closet."
Martin wound up in the Malakwa area with his mom and siblings around
1980 to be with their grandma and grandpa, Hugh and Isabelle Gresham,
who owned and operated the Malakwa cafe.
"Us kids peeled the potatoes and filled the pop and pumped the gas -
it was kind of a nice little arrangement really," says Martin.
Later Martin started working in the bush, largely in the shake and
shingle industry. The work was immediately rewarding, and at Grade 8
he dropped out of school to work full time.
"I felt that doing shake and shingles was what I wanted to do in life
and I wanted to get right at it, so I quit school," said Martin.
Around the time he was 19, Martin says the NDP government decided to
pull out of funding the shake and shingle industry. This, he says, had
a crippling effect on the community.
Those with permits to harvest wood suddenly had a deadline to finish
the work. Martin says he was about two weeks from finishing a job when
his partner, Robbie Muskett was fatally injured on the job.
"We were falling the trees, cutting them to length for the helicopter
to lift out," said Martin. "Robbie, I think he was about 23, 24 years
old, and a tree rolled down the bank and squished his head onto a
stump. That was probably the most shocking, horrible experience that's
ever happened in my life. I remember it like it was yesterday."
After this experience, Martin says he could no longer do the work. He
was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress syndrome and spent about
eight months on worker's compensation. Martin eventually arranged for
a buyout from the compensation board. He says they paid him $11,000 to
get his pilot's licence. That pursuit ended when Martin learned his
eyesight wasn't good enough.
Around the same time, Martin began selling and using cocaine. One week
during the three-month period he was using, Martin says he wound up in
hospital on five separate occasions. The experience scared him off the
drug, but did not dissuade him from selling.
"I wish I could say yeah, I wound up in the hospital and at the end of
the day I thought, 'Gee, this is horrible stuff and I shouldn't be
selling this to people.' But that's not the way it was."
Martin's career change, from cocaine peddler to marijuana smuggler,
began one fateful day when his father showed up at his doorstep,
claiming he knew people in Eugene, Oregon who were in the pot
business. Colin said he could get his hands on 10 pounds of pot, and
Donald knew people with property on the Canada-U.S. border they could
move it through. Soon after, with his brother Damyen's help, the three
were successful in smuggling the popular B.C. bud into the States and
made a quick, $30,000 profit.
"It was only 10 pounds, but at the time we were thinking, 'that's a
lot of pot,'" says Martin. "It's strange, but that's how small-time it
was and how it really all started."
The operation continued to grow to a point where Martin was pulling in
about $200,000 a week. And, despite the incredible risks involved, it
was work he was more comfortable with.
"I thought this is great," said Martin. "This is much less stress than
dealing cocaine."
In 2004, Donald and Damyen were sentenced to terms of house arrest
after pleading guilty to conspiring to export marijuana to the U.S.
Colin says he also pleaded guilty, seeking the same punishment. Two
years later he was found guilty on eight counts of money laundering,
conspiracy to traffic in drugs, conspiracy to export drugs and
possession of proceeds of crime. He was later sentenced to
two-and-a-half years in prison but, with an appeal still before the
court, has yet to serve time.
As for the U.S. extradition order, Martin has no intention of going
back to the U.S. anytime soon. He maintains the only reason his name
is in a U.S. court indictment is because of a series of brief
exchanges he had with U.S. Drug Enforcement agents, beginning in
September 2009, where he was attempting to demonstrate to CBC
reporters the agency's willingness to "get in bed with the bad guys."
While he recognizes there are indeed bad guys involved in the
drug-smuggling business, Martin doesn't include himself among them.
"There are people out there who are involved in this industry who are
not these monsters the cops would like you to believe," said Martin.
"They are normal people just like you and me. I feel I'm a pretty
normal person."
To one end of Martin's 30-acre property sits a spacious yet near-empty
workshed. On one side of the shed is a gravel pit Martin hopes will
become profitable as his competitors in the area start running out of
product. To the other side runs a creek on which he hopes to establish
an independent power project. He says the plans are already before the
province for approval. But Martin is reserved about both projects,
admitting past attempts at going legit have been a challenge.
Asked if he is still somehow involved in the drug trade, Martin admits
his past has been difficult to shake.
"I just want to be right up front, but then there's the other side of
me that says you need to watch what you say," said Martin. "You do
have kids who rely on you. I'm an honest person. I would not sit here
and look you in the eyes and tell you I'm a perfect, law-abiding
citizen. Do I break the law? Sure I do. That's all I have to say on
that."
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