Columbia Man Gets a Decade to Think About His Life Choices After Selling Enough Fentanyl to Wipe Out a Small Country

Columbia Man Gets a Decade to Think About His Life Choices After Selling Enough Fentanyl to Wipe Out a Small Country

In a plot twist that sounds like the opening scene of a bad Netflix crime drama, a Columbia man was sentenced to 4 years and 9 months to 10 years in state prison for selling nearly 23 grams of fentanyl—which, according to science, is enough to make 11,000 people permanently nap.

The man, Sadi Angel Corretger, 34, of South 5th Street, stood before the court on Nov. 20 and gave the classic “I’m sorry, I’ll do better” speech. He promised to stop making “poor decisions” and become a better role model for his kids—because nothing says “role model” like a year-and-a-half undercover sting operation.

Judge Merrill Spahn, who clearly wasn’t buying the “oops, my bad” routine, reminded Corretger that he wasn’t caught with “an insignificant amount of drugs.” Translation: Bro, you had enough fentanyl to make Thanos jealous.

Here’s how it went down: Lancaster County Drug Task Force detectives spent 18 months playing hide-and-seek with Corretger, pulling off seven controlled buys at his Mount Joy residence. When they finally raided the place, they found 23.35 grams of fentanyl, drug paraphernalia, and packaging materials—basically a starter kit for “How to Ruin Lives 101.”

Assistant DA Sarah Hansen dropped the mic by pointing out that two milligrams of fentanyl can kill a person. Corretger had 23,350 milligrams. Do the math: that’s enough to turn a music festival into a ghost town.

Despite heartfelt pleas from his sister and the mother of one of his three kids—who argued he’s “a changed man”—Judge Spahn wasn’t swayed. He considered Corretger’s criminal record dating back to 2013, which reads like a greatest hits album of felony drug and gun charges.

Before heading off to his new home (with bars and free meals), Corretger thanked the Drug Task Force and DA’s Office for “saving his life.” Which is ironic, considering he was out here selling death by the gram.