..............."LOS MARIACHIS CALLARON............."

By Juan Montoya
Somehow, the death of a musician always brings a discord of sadness to the song of life.
Whether they sang, played an instrument, or interpreted some form of our culture, they are held in a special place because – while some of us may harbor some fantasy that we could perform – they actually do it, and sometimes do it well.
So was the case with my tocayo Juan Antonio Araujo Medoza, who at the too-young age of 42, took his last bow on this worldly stage and departed from among us.

Mi tocayo played a trumpet in a mariachi and was well known in local artistic circles. They were a working-class mariachi who would turn up at birthday parties, store openings, quinceañeras, Mothers Day serenades, political pachangas, and other celebrations. Often they would alight from their van in some barrio and give the people attending the event that touch of lujo that can only come from the strains of violins, a bajo sexto, a requinte, and the trumpets played by elegantly dressed men in the traditional mariachi outfits.

They might have been carpenters, waiters, mechanics, or even unemployed during the day, but once they were in their mariachi get-up, a certain change came over them and they assumed a regal air and there was an air of confidence in their walk.

When  push came to shove – in those old days now long gone by – they would cruise the downtown and 14th Street bars playing the favorites of the people.
They knew that they were not going to get rich playing in these events, but the endeavor they put into their performances would have led you to believe that they were playing at a venue like Bellas Artes. They could belt out all the traditional celebration songs, romantic ballads, a song or two from "Chente," and even some old stuff from Javier Solis, Pedro Infante and even a Jorge Negrete song like "Yo Soy de San Luis Potosi..." And, of course, the crowd favorite "El Mariachi Loco."

I went to see mi tocayo and say my goodbyes yesterday at the Garza Memorial Funeral Home in downtown Brownsville and to pay my condolences to wife Norma and his children and mom. Mi tocayo was all dressed up to go away decked out in his black mariachi outfit with silver trim and with his now eternal smile on his handsome face.

"Los mariachis callaron..."