They say that Pablo Escobar, the most famous drug trafficker to the envy of Chapo Guzmán and a criminal whose contempt for human life was inversely proportional to his affection for hippos, made a confession whose echo is now being recovered.
“The only man I was ever afraid of was a woman named Griselda Blanco,” a phrase that, said by the person who said it, clearly speaks of the type of danger that Mrs. Blanco, also known as the black widow or the godmother of drug trafficking, represented. The nicknames are not gratuitous either: she killed three husbands and brought tons of lethal drugs into the United States.
A recreation of the life of this lady dyed red, and not exactly for love, premieres this week on Netflix.
Sofía Vergara, who is also a producer, plays Griselda, the title of the series, shot dead in 2012 while shopping at a butcher shop – another sarcasm in the story – in Medellín (Colombia), where she took refuge after gaining compassion. in the US due to poor health and being released from prison. She had been arrested in California for the betrayal of Jorge Ayala, one of the thugs in her gang.
There will be broadcast saved last minute setback. The deceased’s heirs filed a lawsuit in a Miami court in which they demand compensation for damages and a temporary order to block the premiere, scheduled for next Thursday. The lawsuit is led by Griselda’s son, baptized Michael Corleone Sepúlveda Blanco, with that second name in homage to the character played by Al Pacino in the monumental film The Godfather.
This other Corleone argues that they use promotional material and images or identities of family members without any authorization. And the complaint clarifies that they used elements extracted from the son’s recorded testimony without him receiving any financial compensation.
Griselda Blanco cultivated her criminal fame with a life path full of bloody murders and her plots to take revenge on anyone, including children. She was famous because if she thought someone looked at her badly, that person would raise mallows.
In the miniseries she is glamorously described as an ambitious woman, but her career was much murkier.
She was born in 1943 in the Colombian city of Santa Maria, although she was taken to Medellín when she was very young. As a child she cut her teeth in stealing purses and at the age of 11 she is credited with her first murder. She kidnapped a rich boy and, when he was not ransomed, she shot him.
At 21, in 1964, she immigrated without papers to New York, with her husband, Carlos Trujillo, and their three children (fatal victims over time of massacres carried out by rivals). They settled in the district of Queens and she began selling marijuana, the beginning of her journey in a world dominated by men.
Six years later, Griselda is credited with the murder of her husband. Then, in 1970, she moved to Miami, where she met her second husband, the trafficker Alberto Bravo, who was the one who introduced her to the universe of drug traffickers. She got into trouble with the law, which caused her to run away from it. But in the 1980s she was again in the city of Florida, one of the crime meccas at that time.
He brought in around 1,500 kilos of cocaine a month and experts consider that, with the dollar update, this would be equivalent today to a business of around 3 billion annually.
He rose to the top of power thanks to his audacity to bring cocaine into the United States. He created a line of underwear, manufactured in Colombia, that incorporated secret pockets. And he is credited with displaying charm in his relationships, which could also be a ticket to the grave.
He killed Bravo, who was in the country of origin handling matters, because he stole from him. He shot her several times and she came out with a bullet in her stomach. Her third husband, Darío Sepúlveda, had no better luck when he wanted to take Michael, their son together, to Colombia.
This is not a spoiler, but Griselda introduced the innovation of the motorcycle shooting for the ease of escaping the scene. That’s how they murdered her. There were those who spoke of poetic justice when she met death in the same way she dispatched so many.
