This is another Lucha Villa album I do not own. It includes several boleros that are quite lovely.
Lucha Villa Vol. 7, Musart lp 1366, released in 1968
Lucha Villa Ay…. Amor….
This is a great album. It was released in 1969 in the Musart label. It’s one I do not have (I have most of them), and there are four songs on it that don’t appear in any anthologies that I have either, so I decided to piece the whole thing together, using recordings that are available on Youtube. Here you go. Enjoy!
Dr. Arnulfo Trejo: A Look At His Life And Work
When I was in high school in the mid-70s, my journalism teacher, Jane Cruz, enrolled in the Graduate Library Institute for Spanish-speaking Americans (GLISA), a special master’s of library science program at the University of Arizona. The program, a federally funded initiative to train librarians of Hispanic descent and those wishing to serve the country’s ever-growing Spanish-speaking population, was directed by Dr. Arnulfo Trejo, a longtime librarian, academic, and founder of REFORMA, the National Association for the Promotion of Library Services to the Spanish-speaking. The curriculum of the GLISA program focused primarily on training librarians in outreach and programming for the Spanish-speaking and in building Spanish-language library collections.
Jane and her husband Ron had just acquired ownership of La Campana Books, a local bookstore that specialized in leftist literature, Latino literature and bilingual materials, and Dr. Trejo, a regular visitor to the bookstore, encouraged her to apply for a spot in the GLISA program. She was very busy at the time, raising two children, teaching at Salpointe High School, and running a new business. Unfortunately, she was also dealing with some serious health issues, and as a result decided, after having devoted a considerable amount of time and effort to her studies, to leave the program before she completed her degree. It was a difficult decision.
Learning about Jane’s experience with the GLISA program sparked my own interest in librarianship, as ever since childhood, I had loved visiting the library and reading. Jane’s experience helped me realize that being a “bona fide” librarian meant one had to have a master’s degree in library science. I kept that thought in the back of my mind as I entered college.
I attended the University of Arizona from 1977 to 1982 and graduated with a bachelor of arts degree in psychology with a minor in sociology. Shortly thereafter, I decided to apply to the graduate program in Sociology at the U of A. I was accepted into the program and took courses for a semester or two, but didn’t really care for it after a while, as it turned out not to be what I thought it would be. I didn’t know that so much of the study of sociology deals with “data” and its manipulation and interpretation.
By the Fall, 1984 semester, I remembered that I had thought about becoming a librarian at one point, so I decided to try my hand at library school, and I was accepted into the program in January 1985. By then, Dr. Trejo had retired and the GLISA program had folded. There weren’t many other Latinos in the program at the time, and I felt like a lone wolf, but I soon discovered REFORMA and I learned more about the important role that Dr. Arnulfo Trejo played both in its founding and in the broader profession as a leader in the effort to provide library services for diverse populations through recruitment of Latino librarians and the promotion of reading among the Spanish Speaking.
I joined REFORMA around 1986 while still in library school, but it wasn’t until I was working as a librarian and attending conferences that I became more involved in the organization. By the early 90’s I had served as national secretary and president of the Arizona Chapter, and had made a lot of friends who were fellow REFORMISTAs.
In 1992, I landed a job as Assistant to the Dean for Staff Development, Recruitment at Diversity at the University of Arizona, and it was at this point that I really got to know Dr. Trejo. My boss, Carla Stoffle, asked me to start laying the groundwork for the creation of a Mexican American borderlands archives program, so I set out to meet and interview a number of influential Latinos in the Tucson community, including Dr. Raquel Goldsmith, Lupe Castillo, Salomon Baldenegro and of course, Dr. Trejo, to gauge whether or not there was interest in such a program and if it was really feasible. Would there be enough material available locally to build such a program?
Dr. Trejo was a member of my parents’ generation, and I approached him with the utmost respect. He seemed very formal to me, always dressed in a suit and tie, but also very kind, approachable and thoughtful. My own style at the time was much more informal. I never wore suits or ties, and I remember him encouraging me to think twice about that. He said to me “people generally will remember you for what you say, but also for how you looked”. I didn’t take too well to the advice, but have come to realize over time that his words were quite true. I still don’t wear suits and ties, but I can see how one’s appearance does affect one’s overall impression on people.
Over the next 10 years, I would run into Dr. Trejo a lot. He was a very busy man, organizing educational institutes, selling Spanish Language books, and participating in our local REFORMA meetings. His wife, Ninfa Trejo, also worked at the U of A Library, and we worked together on planning the local arrangements for the 2nd National REFORMA Conference, which was held in Tucson in 2000.
It was a sad day when we all heard the news that Dr. Trejo had passed. The following January, a tribute was held in his honor at the 2003 Midwinter meeting of the American Library Association in Philadelphia, and I was asked to contribute to it by writing a corrido about Dr. Trejo’s life and work. I don’t consider myself much of a songwriter, but I have written one or two of them. This particular request came from a good friend named Ben Ocon, who was the national president of REFORMA at the time. I couldn’t turn him down, so I rose to the challenge, and I ended up performing “El Corrido de Don Arnulfo Trejo” in a room full of librarians (the lyrics are included at the very end of this post). I engaged everyone in a sing-a-long, and by the end of the performance, the crowd was on its feet applauding like crazy. The corrido was a hit! It was a moment in my life that I’ll never forget.
Dr. Trejo’s papers were left with Special Collections at the University of Arizona Library, and in 2014, I was asked to write the biographical note for the finding aid. I used Dr. Trejo’s biographical file and his papers to write the summary and I learned many details about his life that I and many others didn’t know. It was a real eye opener. I later re-published and expanded the biographical sketch and posted it on my blog. It has become one of my most popular blog posts. It, along with the corrido are available here: Remembering Dr. Arnulfo D. Trejo, 1922-2002.
I was recently asked to give a presentation on the life and work of Dr. Arnulfo Trejo at the VII Encuentro Internacional Sobre Comunicacion, Frontera y Movimientos Emergentes, held at the Sam Lena Branch of the Pima County Public Library on December 2 and 3, 2022. PCPL library associate and REFORMA member Escarlen Chavez invited me to do this because this year’s encuentro was dedicated to the memory of Dr. Trejo, and she knew I had written about him in the past. I was happy to oblige.
It was a great honor to be in the presence of such luminaries as Dr. Adalberto Guerrero, Dr. Macario Saldate and Dr. Armando Miguelez, who each spoke a bit after my program. I was honored and humbled by their words of thanks and appreciation. Dr. Trejo was their colleague and they were glad to know that his memory and legacy live on. They recommended that my presentation get published in “La Estrella De Tucson” and that we encourage our current UA President to create an award in Dr. Trejo’s memory. Both of these efforts will take some thought and work, but hopefully my colleagues in the local Tucson chapter of REFORMA will help me achieve these goals.
Here is the flyer for the two-day program:
Here are some photos of the event:
I opened my presentation with the following quote:
“According to Salvador Guerena and Edward Erazo, in their article, “Latinos and Librarianship“(source: Library Trends, V. 49, no. 1, Summer 2000), “of all the people who have contributed to Latino librarianship in this country, there is no one who has made a greater impact advancing this cause than Arnulfo D. Trejo, indisputably one of the country’s most illustrious and distinguished library leaders.”
I then presented the following slides, elaborating and adding context along the way:
The following title, a work that Dr. Trejo edited, is available in full text online. See the page, The Chicanos: As We See Ourselves, and click on the download button to retrieve the full text of the book.
El Corrido de Don Arnulfo Trejo
by Bob Díaz
Voy a cantarles un corrido
De un hombre valiente y de verdad
Don Arnulfo Trejo se llamaba
y luchó para nuestra libertad
CORO:
Libertad pa’ ser Americano
Libertad pa’ hablar en Español.
Libertad pa’ ser educado
Libertad pa’ leer en Español.
Nació en México de veras
Pero a este lado su destino fue a quedar
Se creció en Tucson Arizona y desde joven luchó por la libertad
CORO:
Libertad pa’ ser Americano
Libertad pa’ hablar en Español.
Libertad pa’ ser educado
Libertad pa’ leer en Español.
Profesor y bibliotecario
Fue un hombre de grandísima vision
Padre de GLISSA y REFORMA
Le damos gracias por toda la nación
CORO:
Gracias Don Arnulfo Trejo
Gracias por su linda visión
Gracias Don Arnulfo Trejo
Gracias por su ardiente pasión
Vuela vuela palomita
Que ya se va acabando esta canción
Pero hay que siempre recordarse
¡La lucha continua, si señor!
¡La lucha continua, si señor!
==========================================================================
I’m very glad I was given the opportunity to do this program. It turned out to be another memorable occasion.
My Life Story: 1959-1965
Things to know up front:
You can enlarge the photos by clicking on them. Click the back arrow key to return to the post.
Every chapter in My Life Story includes information about me, my work, my family and my friends. It also includes information about events that took place locally and nationally, etc. that I thought important enough to include. You’ll also find that I’ve included films, musicians and recordings/videos, in addition to books that were released in a given year.
While I have included many personal photos, most of the graphic content included below is borrowed from the Internet. I do not claim to own this material. I am just adding it for educational purposes. If the owners of any of the content in the “My Life Story” series want their stuff removed, I am happy to oblige. My email address is jrdiaz@arizona.edu. Thanks!
At the time I was born, my parents and five siblings all lived together in Tucson on 22nd St. in a small three bedroom house, a red brick tract home just east of the Southern Pacific railroad tracks in a subdivision called Country Club Manor, the boundaries of which were 22nd St. to 17th Street and Plumer Ave to Country Club. We lived next to a big empty lot, and had a lot of outside space in which to play. Randolph Park was nearby too. Our church was St. Ambrose Catholic Church on Tucson Blvd, just south of Broadway and our local elementary school was Robison Elementary. There were a lot of families with kids in the neighborhood. Most were either Mexican American or Anglo. It was a mixed neighborhood, and wasn’t considered a “barrio” necessarily, until later in the 1970s and 80s.
In 1959, most of my brothers and sisters were all in school, and their ages ranged from 2 to 15, with some in grade school at Robison, others at Mansfeld Jr. High and the oldest at Tucson High. The boys in the family all played sports, and were usually busy doing things outside the house. The girls were both very attractive and popular, and always had lots of friends. Boys became their focus as they moved into their teens.
My dad worked as a miner in San Manuel and mom stayed home and took care of all of us, cooking and cleaning and making sure that everything at home was in working order. Dad and mom had been together since 1943, and, after 15 years of marriage, had developed a volatile relationship and some ‘unhealthy’ habits, unfortunately, so our home life was not always peaceful, especially in the Sixties.
I was the last of the kids, and my mom kept me at her side all the time. I was a chubby child, was considered a momma’s boy and a crybaby, and everyone called me Bobby Joe, or BJ, nicknames that I have always disliked, but have learned to accept over time. While I wasn’t athletic at all, I was a smart kid. In fact, when my mom went to see my first grade teacher, Mrs. Goldbaum for her parent-teacher meeting, Mrs. Goldbaum said to her, “where did you get this one? He’s so bright!”, or something to that effect. She had also been Charles’s, Becky’s and Rudy’s first grade teachers when they attended Robison in the 50s.
Early on, I developed a love for popular music. My parents even bought me my own record player when I was 3 years old. I impressed everyone with my ability to correctly pick out a record from a stack of 45’s after being told just once what the title was. Again, I was just 3 at the time.
As the Sixties progressed, my sisters and brothers started to leave home either to get married or on to other things such as the Navy, and our family began to grow. My three nieces Belisa, Michelle and Anadine were all born in the Sixties, and I spent a lot of time with them. They were more like my sisters than my nieces because we were so close in age.
I had several close friends as a child, including Billy “Bubba” Fass, and his brother Ricky, Ernie Carrillo, and three sisters who lived next door to our family whose names were Becky, “Tiny” and Debbie Romo. There were other kids too who we played with, of course, but these were my closest friends. We spent a lot of time playing in the alley or on 21st St, where we would play flag football a lot of the time. We also spent a lot of time at St. Ambrose’s swimming pool, and at Randolph Park where we played sports. One time I planted a little rose garden with roses that my mom bought me at the local grocery store. I also had an aquarium and parakeets at one point, but over time my interest in these hobbies dwindled.
These photos and documents provide a pictorial glimpse of my life as a child in Tucson up through the middle of 1965, or the beginning of the first grade. Most of the photos are pictures taken before I was a student at Robison Elementary School. Others were taken in such places as the local park or at family gatherings. I feel fortunate that I still have them after all these years, and humbly share these treasures here with my friends and family. These photos and documents bring back many wonderful memories, as one can imagine, and I share some of them in the captions that follow.
One of my very first memories was of my sister Irene’s sweet sixteen party in November, 1959. I remember being taken to the back bedroom for a nap that afternoon, just as the party got started. I didn’t fall asleep right away. I was busy listening to the music, oldies but goodies like What’s Your Name by Don and Juan and We Belong Together by Robert and Johnny. The following song was also played.
Here’s another song I’ve been listening to my whole life. The Chubby Checker version was released in 1960.
This is another song my mother loved to sing when I was a little boy. She loved music, and especially Ray Charles.
My mom would sing this song to me all the time at bedtime. When she sang the words, “I couldn’t find my baby,” I would stick my head out from under the covers and say, “Here I am, mommy!” I remember it like it was yesterday. My mom sang me lots of songs when I was little.
Doggie in the Window, by Patti Page
This song was another one of the earliest I remember hearing. It was recorded way back in 1953, and unlike this version, the original features Patti singing in harmony with herself. My friend Billy Fass had the record. I just adore Patti Page. She has one of the loveliest voices I’ve ever heard. People who remember her for just this one little tune and equate her music with 50s slick pop hit parade garbage are missing the mark completely. She could swing as well as anyone, and her tone was clear as a bell.
Here’s another song my mom would sing to me at bedtime. She had a beautiful voice.
I just had to include this song. Girls used to sing this to me. I don’t even remember who they were, but it made me embarrassed and happy at the same time. The song was released in late August, 1962.
Meanwhile, across the country, the civil rights movement witnessed another casualty.
Another senseless tragedy in the South…
Three civil rights workers were reported missing on 6/21/64. Their bodies were recovered seven weeks later in a swamp outside of Philadelphia, Mississippi. The local KKK, Sheriff, and members of the local police department were involved in the murder.
When I was a small child, we would go to Ben Lee’s Market on the southwest corner of 22nd and Tucson Blvd all the time to buy saladitos and other stuff like comic books and candy. On July 7, 1964, a fire broke out inside the store and did a lot of damage. The store ended up closing. I can still remember going in there. It was our neighborhood Chinese market.
Here’s an excerpt of the speech Martin Luther King, Jr. gave at the March on Washington.
One day, I went shopping with my mom to Southgate, and she bought a 45 by Lucha Villa that had the following song on one side, and on the other was a song called “Asi Perdi Tu Amor”. Both tunes were written by the great Mexican composer Cuco Sanchez. I still have the 45.
Mr. Lonely was released in October, 1964. I loved this song.
Here’s another very sad ranchera, again, one of my mom’s favorites. I still have the 45. This song is titled, “Cancion de un Preso”, or “Song of a Prisoner”, and it’s by the great Irma Serrano, one of Mexico’s most flamboyant and expressive singers.
Malcolm X was assassinated on February 21, 1965. He was a radical Muslim activist who told the truth about race relations in this country. I had no idea who he was or what he stood for, as I was just a child. It wasn’t until college that I read his autobiography.
This tune was on Beatles VI.
Bob Dylan released “Like a Rollings Stone on July 20, 1965. Suddenly, things got more serious.
My brother Rudy had this album. So did a lot of other people. Dylan rocked the whole world with Highway 61 Revisited.
