Army bands, guerrillas, and battle music. Place yourself in the Mexican Revolution, where a dark-eyed, young and handsome musician in uniform commands the stirring volumes of military themes, uplifting the rebel troops who fight to bring their country into better days. That musician is Rayo Reyes: A man of his compatriots, his family, and, more than a role model, a paternal figure for El Paso’s musical youth.
Image caption: Rayo Reyes (Photo from newspapers.com)
Reyes, one of the first musicians to be a part of El Paso’s history, promoted music as an invigorating force for the soul. Far back in 1887, he was born as Rayo Rejino Reyes in Parral, Chihuahua. Studying in Mexico and the U.S., he graduated from the Conservatorio Nacional de Música, still the most important educational center of music in México. He did so with a unique study of the violin, polishing his life-long profession in this instrument until he became recognized in México and the U.S. as a “top-notcher” violinist, according to the defunct Tucson Citizen newspaper. Yet, the notes Reyes made came in unlimited colors. The El Paso Herald Post pleasingly announced in 1927 that among the Reyes family were players with the highest number of musical instruments from El Paso, Reyes heading the list with no less than 37. Nearly any instrument placed into his hands, he brought to life with ease.
Reyes was also an outstanding bandleader. The Fort Worth Record- Telegram states that he had been a “professional band man since he was a mere lad in short trousers.” For several years, he oversaw all the bands in Mexico. The number of bands he directed throughout his life went beyond a dozen. One of those, on October 17, 1909, performed during the meeting of U.S. President William Howard Taft and Mexican President Porfirio Díaz, as the Herald reports. The Library of Congress said that this historical event was “the first meeting of a Mexican and U.S. President ever, up to that time,” and the city of El Paso, Texas, held the honor of organizing it.
Reyes married a woman in Trinidad, Colorado. In April 1910, the couple had a daughter named Reva Reyes, who they encouraged with care and love to follow the path of music. And as the saying goes, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, for little Reva’s career as a performer demonstrated prodigious potential for music almost as early as she took her first steps. “Dancing and dramatics were as natural to her as sleeping,” states the Herald, “and in them she found her recreation, her joy, and her spiritual outlet.” Later, Reyes often played music to accompany his daughter’s dancing, making them a dynamic duo who received ovations every time the public delightedly attended their performances.
Curiously, the very music that Reyes played during the meeting of President Díaz later energized the spirits of the Mexican Revolution. This series of armed conflicts boomed on November 10, 1910, and American newspapers kept their eyes on it until the Revolution concluded in 1920. During those 10 years, Mexicans and Americans bit their nails at the tension (and hidden excitement), even in those days when deadly silence swept the air and people knew that a new battle was soon to begin.
All of this began because Díaz just wouldn’t let go of the presidency.
It is still debated today whether Díaz should be regarded as a national hero or a merciless tyrant, and though that is a topic for another time, many sources describe his presidency as a dictatorship, including an article in History Today, “The Ousting of Porfirio Diaz.” Francisco (Pancho) Villa, one of the Revolution’s leading figures, warred avidly to bring down Díaz’ presidency. This bandit leader, who at some point forced the governments of Mexico and the U.S. to team up to find Villa’s whereabouts, was dubbed the Lion of the North, though he was granted many nicknames. He commanded the armed faction División del Norte (Division of the North) and governed Chihuahua for some time. But aside from his adventurous campaigns through northern Mexico, today it is little known that Villa was a huge music lover. “General Villa was fond of music,” Reyes reminisced in a later interview. “He seemed to get more pleasure at a band concert than any other form of amusement.” In the book Pachuco: Out of El Segundo Barrio, by El Pasoan Jaime F. Torres, we get a deeper look into this story. “Villa used to spare no reasonable efforts to obtain the best musicians available to play for his army bands,” so it was of no surprise that Villa selected Reyes as the official military band leader for the División Del Norte when, in 1913, he learned about the musician’s outstanding reputation. Reyes soon became Villa’s favorite musician. For these things Reyes was “held in high esteem in northern México and the U.S. Southwest,” writes Torres. The band was made of 110 musicians from the best of Mexico, all directed by Reyes, all rallying the troops of Villa under a rain of bullets!
Image caption: Reva Reyes in costume (Photo courtesy of the University of Texas at El Paso Library, Special Collections, Stout Feldman Collection)
But it wasn’t just Reyes. Little Reva also did her part for the benefit of the Revolution, musically. Supposedly at the age of three, still needing her father’s support in walking, she accompanied him and sang folk songs as they roamed the hills with Villa’s army. “Reva’s dancing captured the fancy of the bandit chieftain,” per the one-time El Paso Evening Post. From 1913 to 1915, while Villa was “campaigning most actively,” the tiny dancer made her first performances in Villa’s private car, Villa becoming Reyes’ close friend and Reva’s godfather. Reyes enjoyed working for Villa, and Villa himself placed immense trust in Reyes. One time Reyes was asked to carry a message from Juarez to Washington from Villa to President Woodrow Wilson. On another occasion, Reyes took over a million dollars’ worth of gold, in today’s money, from Juarez to the Remington Arms Company in New York to pay for ammunition for the Villa Forces.
However, in 1915, during one of the battles in which Villa was defeated, Reyes and his subordinates were forced to flee from the field. Only 82 of the band’s musicians made it to safety. One can only imagine the stifling frustration Reyes must have felt. He was forced to leave 25 of his men, all of whom were executed, with whom he had shared battles, such as the Battles of El Sauz and Aguascalientes, “in an endeavor to turn defeat into victory for his leader,” stated the Fort Worth Record-Telegram. Others executed included six of the Reyes family, brothers and cousins. A column in the Fort Worth Record- Telegram, written on March 14, 1917, explores this nerve-wracking escape. “One [of the prisoners] was mistaken for Rayo himself and hanged from a tree. A huge placard was pinned to his clothes, which bore the legend ‘Rayo Reyes, leader of the Villa band, hung herewith.’” This caused rejoicing in the camp of the enemy. Reyes had escaped and in the garb of a woman made his way to the border. Finally, after enduring what could be called one of the most frightening moments of his life, Reyes took refuge in El Paso and named the city his lifelong home.
Though Reyes left the revolution behind five years before the conflict ended, he kept marching forward with confidence, many accomplishments waiting ahead. In addition to the time he spent working for Villa, Reyes was devoted to teaching children in El Paso. He gave free music lessons in the bank of his South Ochoa home, near to what is now downtown El Paso. “It takes time, money and energy to train my boys to become musicians, but I do it gladly because I know that music stimulates the spirit,” Professor Reyes, as he was frequently called, said. “And without stimulation of the spirit, it is impossible for men and women to achieve great things,” which is a testament to the attention that Reyes gave to his music and to his band members. He supplied each of his students with an instrument whenever possible because money was not always available. No mountain was too high for Reyes. After one year of careful training and discipline, he formed one of his most well-known groups, the Reyes Boys’
Image caption: Rayo Reyes (Photo from newspapers.com)
The Reyes Boys’ Band was comprised of 24 orphaned boys, the oldest, 14 years of age, and the youngest, not yet eight. In June 1910, half a year before the Mexican Revolution, the band gave its first concert at Cleveland Square, now fronting the El Paso Museum of History. The performance these young musicians gave was nothing less than memorable. The Herald says the kids were grouped in a semicircle under the big arch of the Cleveland Square bandstand. They were barely visible by the scattered crowd because they were so tiny, “but when Prof. Reyes brought his baton down for the first overture, the music which floated out from the big concrete sounding board was as sweet as that of any of the professional bands which have appeared in El Paso.” Even more, once the public recovered from the surprise, the Square filled with such wild cheering that the band was forced to “play almost every selection in their repertoire.” Praise was heard from all parts of the city, even days after the performance was over.
This first appearance paved the way for the Boys’ success, but it didn’t come without obstacles. A few months later, the “miniature musicians” gave another concert at Cleveland Square to raise funds for their new uniforms of gold and blue. Though the Herald described it as a people-packed artistic success, financially it was a “vacuum.” The raised amount was only sufficient to uniform the smallest of the drummers, as they could only get $10 out of the needed $250. During a week-long fair in November 1910, they performed in grey sweaters, auto caps and white trousers. Even so, that didn’t stop them from the crowding admirers.
Unstoppable and energetic, Reyes shaped musicians for over two decades. More than just helping them, he gave these kids purpose. By 1922, the Herald says he organized four orchestras among Spanish-speaking boys and girls, most of which were very poor. August of the same year witnessed the first concert of the new generation of the Reyes Boys’ Band, for the previous members had all grown up. “Several of them returned to El Paso during the Golden Jubilee as members of the Mexico City Band and others hold posts as soloists in United States military bands,” Reyes delightedly announced to the El Paso Times during a 1923 interview. It is endearing how he brimmed with pride whenever his students grew to become recognized musicians. This became the case with remarkable individuals such as Don Tosti, also a renowned violinist and composer of the famous song “Pachuco Boogie” (see article on Don Tosti in this issue of Borderlands), and Genaro Nuñez, director of the Estado de Mayor Band in Mexico City, a master of the clarinet.
Many young enthusiasts voluntarily came to Reyes’ door wanting to be a part of what he did. “Professor Reyes has never found it necessary to go out into the city to gather recruits for his band,” wrote the El Paso Times. “Instead, little boys and big boys come to him, asking for instruction and anxious for the privilege of becoming members of his band,” proving that Reyes’ music was spreading like wildfire throughout El Paso. Besides teaching his “boys,” he also organized bands at San Jacinto, Aoy and Bowie schools, earning him warm praise from the schools for his work.
Image caption: Rayo Reyes College of Mines Band (Photo courtesy of the University of Texas at El Paso Library, Special Collections, Stout Feldman Collection)
In 1925, Reyes organized the Rayo Reyes’ Girl Band with 39 members, who ranged in age from four to 16, equally hopeful the band would attract as much attention as the Boys’ Band, he told the El Paso Times. In October of the following year, he also gathered the “cream” of El Paso musicians into a symphony orchestra, a first for El Paso. Under his direction, they gave a presentation at a local radio program in the first of a series of symphony concerts. As the Herald indicated, Reyes eagerly said that he wanted to show the people that “El Paso has some fine musicians,” and his efforts demonstrated nothing less, because the newspaper indicated this was “one of the most delightful programs ever heard from this station.” The Little Symphony Orchestra, as it became known, afterward constantly performed for the radio and promised to arrange several public appearances in the future.
Reyes also became the first musical director for the College of Mines, now the University of Texas at El Paso. An article titled “Marching Miners in History” records that, in 1927, he established the College of Mines Band with 15 members, who got their first instruments secured by the College Women’s Auxiliary Association. In 1928, he composed the College of Mines March, which earned an excellent column in the El Paso Times where anyone could read the music sheets. Scripted under it, the newspaper read: “This lively march shows the spirit of El Paso of that era, as heard by El Paso’s key musical figures,” an excellent chance for any avid music fan to “hear” a bit of Reyes’ work.
But music was not Reyes’ only contribution to the borderland. Wanting to improve the life of Mexicans in El Paso, in January 1930, he started a Mexican voter’s league. He began with 75 members, hoping to reach 600 members in a short time. “The Mexican has been ignored too long,” he stated. “When we need a new park, a new sewer, new sidewalks, a new school, etc., we want to be able to go before the city council as a unit and make our demands. We think more attention will be paid to us if we can say: ‘Six hundred voters petition for this thing.’”
This was not the first time he had issues with his citizenship, however. Far back in 1913, he took out his first citizenship papers, but “afterward spent some time in Mexico and South America, and his first application became invalid by the local district court,” stated the Herald. (This may refer to the years he spent working for Villa from 1913 to 1915). To this, Reyes said, “I wish to be an American citizen, not for business reasons, but because I like this country better than any other I’ve been in.” El Paso was fortunate he selected the city as his hometown.
Image caption: “College of Mines” by Rayo Reyes, written in 1928
Moreover, Reyes seemed to have an inner conflict between his life as a musician and his love for El Paso. According to the El Paso Evening Post, he announced in 1930 that he would have to leave El Paso because he couldn’t make an income as a musician. His boys, who “learned to love him and to respect his judgment in other things besides music,” broke down in tears and cried after hearing this. Upon his departure, Reyes dedicated his last appearance at Cleveland Square to all his friends in the city, grown men he taught as kids, and groups of people who scarcely missed his concerts. The El Paso Times stated that “for 30 years, Reyes has conducted bands here, taught hundreds of boys to play, given away thousands of dollars’ worth of instruments and uniforms so that El Paso youths might take an interest in music. Reyes also devoted many hours of his time teaching young people to play, so that this city might have musical organizations of which it might be proud.” But even without making a living in El Paso, he kept calling El Paso home. And it was true: The El Paso Evening Post reported that Reyes joined a New York orchestra as a violinist in 1930. He then returned in January 1932 to resume free classes with his boys, who must have been glowing with happiness to see him back.
In late 1932, Reyes occupied fourth chair in the first violin section of the New York Philharmonic Orchestra, the oldest philharmonic orchestra in the U.S. and one of the country’s leading musical institutions. He then brought his music to national and international ears in 1933 when he participated in the World’s Fair in Chicago, the second world’s fair Chicago had organized. This monumental event was also known as the Century of Progress Exposition, symbolizing “hope for Chicago’s and America’s future in the midst of the Great Depression,” according to the Encyclopedia of Chicago. By the time it closed in 1934, an overwhelming 40 million people had visited, making it a good opportunity for Reyes to make his music widely known.
Afterward, Reyes performed and taught in El Paso for the next year or two, but illness forced him to stay in bed after what the Herald describes as “a year’s battle with a jumpy heart.” From five-year-olds, who tinged the triangle, to 10-year-old flutists, his students were often seen at the door asking about their leader. Betty Luther, a writer for the Herald, once paid Reyes a visit. “I walked down to see Mr. Rayo R. Reyes at his home, 315 S. Ochoa St., and found him very ill,” she related. “But his face lighted up when I mentioned his daughter Reva.”
Image caption: Reva Reyes (Photo courtesy of the University of Texas at El Paso Library, Special Collections, Stout Feldman Collection)
By this point, little Reva Reyes had become a woman and an accomplished musician, a swift dancer and a lovely singer, who owned the radio, the stage and the screen. One of her most essential presentations, “The Patsy,” a comedy, was her adiós to El Paso before she left for New York in 1928, taking with her the good wishes and affection of El Pasoans. After that, she spent a year studying dance under the best teachers in America, related The El Paso Times: First, “a course of several months with Albertina Rasch. Then with Fokine, master of the Russian Ballet method; with Angel Cansino, the leading teacher of Spanish and Gypsy dancing; and with Martha Graham, the Modernist in the field of creative expression.” And if that was not enough, Reva also specialized in all the oriental dances and took courses in Greek Classic, Interpretative, and “Silent” dancing. She danced in private recitals with Ruth St. Denis and Ted Shawn at the school of their creation, the Denishawn School of Dancing and Related Arts, renowned for helping many dancers perfect their abilities. In 1932, she played “Conchita” in Hot-cha, a famous Broadway show by Florenz Ziegfeld. Later that same year, according to the West Texas Historical Association, she moved to Paris under contract with the famous Folies Bergere, a cabaret music hall in Paris, becoming the highest-paid foreign performer. In 1933, she was praised by Monte Carlo Life just a couple of months after being hired in the Casino de Monte Carlo, a gambling and entertainment complex located in the Principality of Monaco, France. With one word, “Personality,” they expressed her “phenomenal success.”
What Reyes felt towards his daughter Reva went beyond pride. Even through her extensive schedule, she prioritized her studies and graduated with honors from Loretto College and Academy. Her father instilled in her the mastery of the violin and taught her how to play other instruments, but she learned the piano from other noted teachers. Like her father, she taught dancing in schools while giving private lessons in her studio. Several newspaper headlines regarded her as “El Paso’s Own Reva Reyes,” and describe her as a beacon of joy who always sought to help those in need by using her artistic abilities, never letting her fame compete with her altruism. The Herald stated that “there are no complete records of Reva Reyes’ countless contributions to human welfare and happiness; her entertainment for soldiers, for the sick in hospitals, for lonely visitors, for convention crowds, for official dinner and luncheon guests of the city and the army, for schools and welfare organizations and social clubs, for the lodges, above all, the charity and all relief agencies.” Together, Reva and her father gave so many benefit concerts, there was barely a day when either of them didn’t hit the local news.
Later during a 1935 interview with Luther, Reyes recalled asking his sister-in-law to bring pictures of Reva and she brought an envelope bearing a Paris postmark. Then, Reyes closed his eyes. “No. She does not know I am ill,” he said hoarsely. “Those things are not good to write.” Reva was possibly still hired by the Casino de Monte Carlo at the time. Very far away, Reyes probably did not want to worry her in Europe.
Unfortunately, a month later, Reyes died of Bright’s disease, according to his death certificate, a kidney disease now described as acute or chronic nephritis. It is frequently accompanied by heart disease, which may be what Reyes fought so vigorously against before he was bedridden.
“The call went out to his ‘boys,’ now men, and… they flocked to his simple home at 315 South Ochoa St., carrying their instruments,” reported the El Paso Times a day after Reyes’ death. “They led a three-block-long funeral procession, playing the funeral march that was played for Czar Alexander III of Russia, to the Church of the Sacred Heart, and then to Evergreen Cemetery where they played a farewell to the man who probably taught more youngsters band music than any other in the Southwest.” The word went to Paris and his daughter Reva, who must have been grief-stricken, and she sent a cablegram of condolences back to El Paso.
Over in Europe, Reva continued working as a singer and dancer for the next four years. The Herald informed that during the First World War, she raised funds for relief of orphans of the Allies and entertained the American soldiers on the border at the age of five. As an adult during the Second World War, she went to France and performed for the Allied troops on the Western Front. As Reva and her mother returned in 1939 from Rheims, France, the military car in which they traveled crashed, and they sustained severe injuries. Reva’s mother could not walk again, while Reva’s doctors had given the dancer “one chance in ten” of ever walking again, wrote the New York Daily News. With perseverance, Reva toiled and fought to regain movement and achieved that one chance in ten. She did not dance anymore, but with her voice intact, she revitalized her career as a singer and continued bringing laughs and tears to her audiences, grateful she was there to shine in the spotlight. Unfortunately, complications from her injuries led to another accident. Most regrettably, Reva lost her life at the age of 48, after a rupture to the base of her skull, as is printed in her death certificate.
Reyes and Reva are now two of the brightest stars over El Paso’s night sky – ones that encourage many stars to shine on their own. They both died young but triumphant. Beyond their outstanding performances and marvelous sounds, what we can learn from them not only concerns music, but it is about living to be happy and living to share the happiness.
Knowing they gave their all for the people of El Paso, together they wander peacefully and musically throughout El Paso’s streets, their resilience, vitality and spirit forever harmonizing and dancing in the desert air. Viva Rayo and Reva!!!!
tags: Biography
