From his prison cell, an elderly man with cancer in his stomach wrote down instructions not to let his companions die with him.

“Choose four representatives. Two young people and two older people. Young people: one middle school student, one high school student, and the other two are older. They must be respected by their peers. not.

“That way you can cover all ages and they know what homeboys of that age are doing. People and people who were content just to belong.”

Braulio Castellanos wrote the words in May before a judge granted his merciful release. It was an unusual legal move to release him after serving 35 years in prison for two murders. He died last week at the age of 64.

Castellanos is just the eighth inmate to be granted a charity release this year across the prison, which holds about 95,000 inmates, according to State Department of Corrections spokeswoman Mary Jimenez. She said 17 people were released last year.

A member of the Mexican Mafia that controlled Florencia 13, one of Los Angeles’ biggest gangs, Castellanos formed generations of gang members on the streets of California and in prison yards across the state.

In a book seized from his prison cell before his release, Castellanos details the current state of the Mexican Mafia and offers a vision for the future as its influence spreads to new cities and new gangs, torn apart by infighting. bottom.

“As it stands, a handful of brothers account for a large percentage of the money generated throughout Southern California. We, as a majority, should not allow this to continue,” he wrote.

Born in Mexicali, Mexico, one of eight children, Castellanos was brought to Los Angeles by his parents when he was six months old, according to parole records. His nickname “Babo” came from how his brother pronounced his name, he told the parole board.

He graduated from East LA’s Andrew Jackson High School in 1977 and worked as a liquor store clerk after school. After that, he got a job as an auto mechanic and a press operator in a factory.

When Castellanos was 21, he was convicted of robbery and sentenced to six years in prison. He later told a probation officer that these years had “programmed him to be violent.”

“In prison you have to be able to protect yourself,” he said.

A year after being released from prison, Castellanos and his girlfriend decided to celebrate New Year’s Eve at the Lettuce Patch Lounge in San Bernardino. Castellanos recalled that at his parole hearing, Mark Vazquez, 22, came up to the table and demanded to know where he was from. “I told them I was too old to do that.

Every time Castellanos passed Vazquez and his friends on his way to a bar, “they would yell at me,” he said. “I tried to ignore them as best I could, but after a while they got really nervous and yelled back at me as they passed by.”

A fight broke out. Castellanos recalled being held down with a headlock and clubbed with a champagne bottle. “I remember holding a knife in his hand and stabbing him,” he said.

As bar owner Tito Lechuga tried to quell the brawl, Castellanos cut his throat. The 65-year-old man was dead when police arrived. Vazquez was stabbed 12 times and died later that night.

“I was raised with a religious background and I have never killed anyone,” Castellanos told the board. “Actually, I’ve never hurt anyone before. And when I saw this happen, it felt like something inside me just died, you know? Me?” It’s like the good things inside have turned their backs on me.”

Convicted of two counts of second-degree murder, Castellanos was sentenced to 21 years in prison for life. “I pray to God every night that you die,” Vazquez’s mother said during the sentencing.

It is not known when he joined the Mexican Mafia (a group of about 140 members of the top Latino street gangs in Southern California), but at a parole hearing in 2000 Castellanos was declared a member by prison officials. I agree that it was classified. .

A guard watches from the tower of Pelican Bay State Penitentiary in Crescent City.

(Los Angeles Times)

For 25 years, Castellanos lived in the most restrictive conditions the state prison system could offer. It was the Security Housing Unit (SHU) at Pelican Bay. His younger brother Arturo, nicknamed “Tablas”, was also in Pelican Bay and had been jailed for murder since 1979.

They couldn’t use the phone. Their emails were scrutinized and their visits monitored. Still, the Castellanos brothers managed to control former mobster Florencia from 1,100 miles away, law enforcement officials testified at a trial in Los Angeles.

Quieter than his brother, Braulio Castellanos, who made headlines for his role as spokesman for prisoners’ rights and attracted the attention of law enforcement for causing a race war in the neighborhoods of Florence and Firestone, is undoubtedly Florencia. And he was a true power man who supported the law enforcement agencies behind the scenes. This was announced by officials and members of the gang.

Federal investigators, who described him as a “silent partner,” said that while Braulio Castellanos’ name was barely mentioned in the wiretapping trial, “we knew he was there.” testified.

Prosecutors indicted the gang, which sent dozens of members to prison for murder, drug trafficking and extortion, but the Castellanos brothers themselves were never indicted in federal court. Next month, three Florencia members will face trial for the murder of off-duty Los Angeles Police Department officer Fernando Arroyos in an attempted robbery.

In 2015, the Mexican Mafia experienced a seismic shift. Prompted by protests and hunger strikes led in part by Arturo Castellanos, the State Department of Corrections transferred prisoners from Pelican Bay SHU to civilian yards.

Members of the Mexican mafia, who had been quarantined for decades and had to communicate orders through encrypted letters and gestures in visiting rooms, now have direct contact with their minions and access to contraband cell phones. Became.

Braulio Castellanos said in his book that this was the catalyst for land grabbing. “Think about it. Some brothers graduated from SHU before others. Those who claim to have offered me nothing.”

According to Castellanos, the Mexican Mafia has expanded beyond Barrio, Southern California, where most of its members grew up. He admitted to raising money from gangs in Northern California, once considered the state of its fiercest rival, Nuestra Familia. And anonymous “brothers” were “approaching barrios in other states and teaching them our ways,” he wrote.

“He explained to me that once that was done, they would be placed under the brothers. Everything would be closely monitored and done in a fair manner.”

A razor wire is installed over the fence at the California State Penitentiary in Sacramento.

(Luis Cinco/Los Angeles Times)

The Mexican mafia has no hierarchy. Decisions are to be made by consensus. That is, one person, one vote. But Castellanos wrote that some members formed coalitions to manipulate the results.

If a teleconference voted yes using a cellphone, “they will hold another meeting a week later, and this time exclude the brothers who voted against,” he wrote. .

After lining up votes to put members in a “bad position,” meaning stripping them of power and income streams, these voting blocks “determine what happens when,” Castellanos wrote.

“They know who owns the brothers’ property, and when it’s done they go and collect it. Barrios, casitas, pharmacies, etc. that become available are first examined by them.”

Members in a “bad position” must be killed. Mr. Castellanos scoffed at the idea of ​​telling someone to “resign.”

“We all know there is only one exit,” he wrote.

In the case of Mexican Mafia strongman Danny “Popeye” Roman, who was stabbed to death in 2020, “a significant number of brothers voted against it,” Castellanos wrote.

Castellanos alluded to Roman being accused of being an informant, saying he “agreed that he didn’t do it intentionally”, emphasizing his final words in thick ink, “and will continue to do so.” We will be in good shape,” he said.

Roman was killed nonetheless.

Castellanos insisted on going back to old ways of doing business, as members of the Mexican Mafia claimed sovereignty only over their home regions. New territories such as Northern California should be equally distributed. “I have Barrios here and I will do my part,” he wrote.

In early May, retired judge Michael A. Smith, who sentenced Castellanos in 1988, ruled in San Bernardino that Castellanos had a “serious, terminally progressive disease.” and his prison sentence was “revoked in its entirety,” the hearing transcript said.

On May 12, Castellanos, who was waiting for his wife, two children and six grandchildren in Crescent City, was released from Solano State Prison in a critical condition.