Pubdate: Tue, 17 Oct 2006
Source: Valley Morning Star (TX)
Copyright: 2006 Valley Morning Star
Contact: http://www.valleystar.com/letters.php
Website: http://www.valleystar.com/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/584
Author: Carlos D. Conde
Note: The author is a native San Benitian, lives in Boca Raton, Fla., and
is a writer on Latino topics.

LIFE'S SETBACKS NEVER STOPPED BALDE HUERTA

When famous people die, they become historical symbols or icons. 
Balde Huerta, aka Freddy Fender, died this past weekend. He was 
famous and forever will be celebrated as the barrio kid from San 
Benito who turned a falsetto voice into music history.

What was unique about Balde was that he never forgot who he was and 
where he came from; the fact that he asked to be buried in his 
hometown attests to this. Many entertainers who reach the big time 
desert their roots, taking on a stage name and reinventing their 
lives to fit their public persona, but Balde never did - or perhaps 
never could.

I knew Balde as a barefoot kid from the El Jardin neighborhood, where 
the main qualifications for residency were being poor, Mexican or 
black. I am a Huerta on my father's side but, regardless of whether 
blood relationship existed, we shared a strong barrio kinship.

During our junior high days, I joined Balde and Rene Moody at Rene's 
garage on South Sam Houston on several occasions to do a little 
discordant jamming - me on drums, Rene on bass and Balde on lead 
guitar. It was where I first heard him sing the soulful ballad of "Oh 
Holy One," which I always considered his best song for the sheer 
originality and lyrics of passionate love.

I lost track of Balde and Rene when I went away to college and they 
both decided to take their talent on the road. They began to get some 
notice, but not the type they preferred. Both were busted in 
Louisiana on possession of marijuana and spent some time in the 
infamous Angola state prison.

Even in prison, the passion was there and Balde recorded an album for 
the Power Pak label called, simply, "Freddy Fender: Recorded Inside 
Louisiana State Prison."

After prison, Rene moved to the Chicago area to carve out a new life. 
At the time of his death, he was still singing - mostly karaoke - in 
a local Mexican-American cafe. He recently produced a CD of Spanish 
romantic ballads.

After prison, Balde drifted, trying to re-establish his musical 
career. For a while, he did janitorial work and odd jobs at Paco 
Betancourt's Rio Grande Music Shop in San Benito. Betancourt was the 
well-known impresario for Mexican grassroots music through his record 
label, Discos Ideal.

At Paco's, Balde produce an LP of regional corridos and conjunto 
music on the Ideal Label, of which he liked to say that he was the 
entire production team and did it between stints with the mop and broom.

I was living in South America then and, on a visit to my parents' 
home, I invited Balde to the house for a bit of musical reminiscence. 
Balde brought his guitar and we spent half of the night balladeering 
and working on a bottle of bourbon.

Whatever bad breaks and hard times had bedeviled Balde up to then, it 
was evident that there was no bitterness or resignation in him or his 
voice, and he was still chasing what must have seemed to some, but 
not to him, an impossible dream.

Balde determinedly worked his way up toward Houston, pursuing his 
quest, and finally hitched on to a savvy producer, Huey Meaux, who 
recognized talent and gave him a new name, Freddy Fender, and a new 
song to sing, "Before the Last Teardrop Falls." The newly minted 
Balde finally rocketed into stardom.

The next time I saw Balde was at the Latino Ball at the inauguration 
of President George H.W. Bush in Washington. Dressed in a spangled, 
Colonel Sanders-type white suit, he was the headliner and he and his 
wife, Eva, joined our table.

After he went from infamous to famous, the San Benito city 
commissioners named one of El Jardin's main thoroughfares in his 
honor. Later on, as he became even more famous and was rechristened 
as the town's favorite son - Bobby Morrow is from Rangerville - the 
local water tower on Highway 83 was adorned with his image so the 
whole world would know he was a homeboy.

As boxing promoter, Don King, also an ex-convict, would say, "Only in America."

Balde, aka Freddy Fender, is coming home after spending the better 
part of his 69 years pursuing - and finally reaching - the apex in 
his remarkable entertainment career. Some may have doubted him along 
the way, but he never did.
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MAP posted-by: Elaine