Selling Drugs in Canada: An Ex-Gangster Tells His Story

Stan Price. Art by Tanzanian Wojak

Stan Price. Art by Tanzanian Wojak

Fake tough guys plagued social environments long before any coronavirus. These clowns tend to gather in Vancouver, Canada’s bar scene, but there are some environments they wouldn't dare act up in. Places that would tear them apart like a zebra thrown to a pit of hyenas. To gain respect, or more specifically, to establish dominance in the realm that I speak of—a domain ruled by criminals—takes a unique individual. There is no room for “fake” here. 

Stan Price is real. He, along with three friends, organized Vancouver's first Redd Alert crew in the late 90s. Redd Alert is an aboriginal gang formed within the Canadian prison system by displaced First Nations youth. Known for their unrestrained, often murderous tactics, Redd Alert established a street presence in Alberta and Manitoba before migrating west to British Columbia. After a series of arrests in 2019, Redd Alert’s numbers in BC are currently unknown; although robberies, violent assaults, and home invasions continue to find themselves attached to the Redd Alert name. 

Stan, who started the gang’s British Columbia chapter 20 years ago, has since left the world of organized crime—a move that few successfully make. He now spends his time working out, helping drug addicts get clean, and trying to be a positive role model for his kids and community. I wanted to speak with him in order to better understand how one can spend such a significant portion of their life immersed in chaos, yet still find the willpower to make radical changes. The former gangster agreed to talk with me, and we met near a coffee shop inside of a large Vancouver mall. 

At 6'3 and 300 lbs, Stan is an absolute unit. In addition to having the physical stature of an offensive lineman, he exhibits a metaphysical presence that is both calm and intense; as if analyzing myself and the environment at a higher level than the average person. I come from a culture of self-proclaimed “victims;” people who pull out every excuse in the book in order to rationalize their lack of discipline, responsibility, and success. Talking with Stan reminds me that no matter how bad things might get, no matter how many chips are stacked against us, no matter how depraved and chaotic we think our lives have become, there is no justification for moral neglect or avoiding our potential.

Stan, thanks for talking to Countere. A few minutes ago, you were telling me about how difficult it is for you to establish trust. 

I don't have a connection with a lot of people anymore, so I don't trust like I used to…and it wasn't just trust that I lost. For me to make that turn in my life [forming the Redd Alert gang in Vancouver], it cost me everything. It brought out a beast in me.

Why do you use the word “beast”?

I was out there fucking peoples lives up. I was probably the most feared person on the Downtown Eastside. They knew if I was there the big boss was there…but the guys I had working for me, they got too careless, they couldn’t keep it cool like I did. I had the game perfected. 

Let's start from the beginning. You grew up in Port Alberni, right? 

Yeah, I grew up in Port Alberni. My introduction to drugs was as a user. I started smoking crack when I was 17. I was in foster care at the time but was still seeking acceptance from my parents, and I was witnessing this lifestyle at my parents’ house on the weekends. They'd be partying and smoking crack, and so I thought, “Oh I wanna do that too.” So my first time smoking crack was with my parents.

How often were you using?

It wasn't like I was doing it every day, it was just once in a while; but then I had a few fucked up years and ended up in prison.

How old were you when you first went to prison?

I had just turned 19. I stabbed someone. He was fucking my girlfriend when she was passed out and so I stabbed him four times. I ended up in a maximum security prison in Prince George. 

So you're 19, first time in prison...

Skinny little kid. 19 years old, fresh into max security prison.

What was going through your mind? 

Fight, if I had to. I got along pretty well though. 

What kinds of people were you in there with?

I was in there with a guy that chucked his wife off of a bridge with cement shoes on. They put me in a remand unit (pretrial detention) first before I was sentenced. It was fucking gladiator camp, man. A lot of serious dudes up there.

Being so young at the time, did anyone mess with you? 

Not really, you know. I made a few friends and just did my thing. I got into a few fights, but it was dumb shit, nothing serious. That was the start of it though—the start of learning how to be a fucking criminal. You think you can learn how to be a criminal out here, man? Get sent to prison. 

[How to Run a Gang in Prison: We Interviewed a Heartless Felon Godfather]

That seems to be the great paradox of the system we have.

Exactly. You're teaching them. It's like sending them to school. It just taught me to be more of a fucking animal. 

You get out of prison, now what? 

I was on the ankle bracelet first but as soon as the courts removed it, I was like “Fuck this, I can't stay here.” I ended up moving back down here [to Vancouver], which caused me to breach parole and end up back in prison for another three months. I spent a couple months there, got out and went back to Port Alberni with no money or work, but then my buddy calls me from Vancouver asking if I want to come out and do rebar (labour that involves securing steel bars into cement). I took the offer and started working in Vancouver. We were partying and doing drugs on the weekends, and that’s how I ended up meeting the guys that I formed the Vancouver branch of Redd Alert with. 

You didn't meet them in prison?

No. I met them here, out on the streets. We used to buy our dope off of one of the guys and ended up hanging out on the weekends. I was a drug user at the time and one of them just said to me, “'Hey why the fuck are you doing dope, you could be making money.” I was into that. I started selling dope for the guy out on the street. I set up shop for anybody who wanted anything. 

How did you decide where to post up?

Hastings. It was the perfect spot and I was living nearby at the time. 

So there were no problems with other dealers? 

It’s an open air drug market down there, man. But we had made our reputation previously known. We were fucking violent and people were scared of us. It's the reputation that follows the Redd Alert name. The Redd Alert guys in Alberta are crazy. We carried that same reputation here. We were feared. Ruthless. Nobody would ever fuck with us, and so we started charging people on Hastings to sell drugs. “If you don't work for us, you gotta pay us to work here.” So yeah, things got serious and we started getting bigger and bigger. I was VP (Vice President), the second-highest position in the province. 

Where did your family fit into all this? 

I met my wife after I met those guys. I was fucking with different women and that's when I met my ex-wife. We started having kids almost right away. She knew the lifestyle that she was getting herself into, but it just got worse. Things just got bigger and bigger. We started moving guns and doing property crime. We were having big parties and high-profile gangsters would show up. For example, we'd be having a boat party and a gang task force would pull up beside us taking pictures, or we’d be camping with our kids and a task force would start taking pictures of us. What kind of life is that? You can't even be out with your family.

Speaking of guns, when you were working on the street, did you carry one?

I would always have somebody close by with one, watching. Sometimes I would keep a gun in my vehicle, I’d throw it under the seat. This was depending on the time though—like if we had war with other crews. 

Which crews?

Well there was GTS (Game Tight Soldiers).

Any other First Nations crews?

Yeah, there was Indian Posse

What was the Somali presence when you were down there? 

Okay well, there was a crew of [Somalis] who had originally moved into Vancouver from Toronto. They had their share of the market and we had a lot of mutual friends who kept the peace. We were better off that way—nobody is going to make money if we're at war, right? There’s no money in war. We'd just end up killing people. We would lose guys and they would lose guys.

My younger guys though, they didn’t think like that. They just say “Fuck these guys,” before grabbing a knife and stabbing four or five of them, when I would rather say, “You know what, let me go and talk to them.” Things get out of control when you don't consult with people higher up and instead just go out into the street causing shit under the [Redd Alert] name. So yeah, I wanted to keep the peace...but then again, if shit popped off then it was on. There was nothing I could do.

Tell me more about the conflict with other crews. 

It's been like that forever with the IPs (Indian Posse). I got rolled on by 10 to 12 of them in Maclean Park. I got bear maced, they fired shots at me, but I still laid out six of them. I thought for sure that I’d be dead. As soon as I heard the gun shots and felt the bear mace I just started swinging. Once I got the opportunity to wipe my eyes, I hopped a fence and heard “Get on the fucking ground!” The cops had heard the gunshots so they put me in cuffs and cleaned me up. Six of the guys were still laid out and the cop kept asking me who I was with but I just said, “I dunno.” I wouldn't talk. I wouldn't say anything. They ran my name, they ran the other guys’ names and the cop just kept asking who had the gun. I told him I didn't even know what he was talking about. I didn't spill any fucking beans. The cop starts laughing and is like, “Well why are there six IP members across the park here all laid out. Our other members went over there and woke them up. They are not passed out, they are not drunk, they were knocked out.” I just said, “I dunno, you put it together.” I still don't know how they missed. Point blank and they miss. Maybe the guy was running away and shooting, but I was just smashing people the whole time.

[How to Defend Yourself in a Riot]

Then there was the GTS war. Those guys were all my friends but most of them are dead now. It was our younger [Redd Alert] guys who had beef [with GTS] and it turned into a whole big thing. Guys were getting stabbed, their houses were getting shot up and it just got out of control. My two buddies, two of the leaders in the GTS crew were calling me saying, “This is fucked up, there is nothing we can say or do anymore. Your guys are shooting up our houses, they see our guys out for dinner and they just walk right in and start beating people up at a restaurant table.” It got messy for a while before slowly dispersing. Some of their main guys left, some ended up dead, the rest just went into hiding and we were still out there on Hastings. So obviously you know who won that one. 

When did you leave the game?

2016 was when I left.

How did the constant violence affect you?

I swear I have PTSD, man. There was so many times that somebody standing on Pender and Main would start shooting towards where we were standing. You never knew when it was coming.

How do you deal with the PTSD? 

It’s a work in progress. I sleep at normal times and I have healthy behavior. I go to the gym, I go to work, I have positive outlets that I use to cope with what I used to see; and leaving that lifestyle man, it's the fucking best move I've ever made.

What do you do for work now?

I work in mental health and addiction. I am a clinical support worker and it's a great opportunity for me to give back. I understand it because I've been through addiction—I have dealt with this population but in a different setting.

How did you get out? 

I told the guys. I called up my best friend—he was the best man at my wedding. I called him up one night and told him “I'm out man. I'm done. I'm not doing this anymore.” It was not much of a conversation, but I asked him what was going to happen and he's like, “What do you think is going to happen? It's your rules. Everyone is following your rules [of targeting people who try to leave].” I just said, “You know I'm not going to go down like a bitch. If I see any of your guys, you know it's fucking on. What are you going to do if you see me out on the street?” He got quiet, so I said, “Well fuck you. You know I'll fuck you up too.” This guy was a real dangerous dude. That whole Redd Alert crew, man, they are fucking dangerous. We molded them.  

Are they still operating? 

I heard from a few people that there’s a bunch of them out there smoking meth now. They might have fallen apart, they might still be around. I don't hear too much about them but I hear they have beef with some pretty serious Somali guys.

What was the main turning point for you deciding to get out of that life? 

Nobody is guaranteed tomorrow. I want to be remembered for good things, not what I was doing before. I was living in hell but I can't say I can't say I would have lived it any differently. I take it as a lesson learned. As far as the turning point goes, it was affecting everything around me and I wanted better for my kids. I want my kids to see me for the good [in me]. I didn't want them growing into their adult lives seeing their dad as a gangster at fucking 40 years old. I was slowly watching all of my friends either die or go to jail. There just comes a time when you've got to grow up.

Follow Reid Small on Instagram.

Reid Small

Reid is a writer and photographer living in Vancouver, British Columbia.

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