Bidal Aguero, Lubbock, Texas

(Newspaper Publisher, Playwrite, Video maker, Political Activist-and sometime, borrachin!)

Upon his passing away on Tuesday,

Nov. 3, 2009, at six o’clock in the afternoon,

one day after “El Dia de Los Muertos,”

because even La Pelona couldn’t tell Bidal Aguero what to do…when to do it

Copyright by Nephtali De Leon

I first met him as Billy

Quien es Billy?

Who’s this gordito that shows up


I didn’t know Billy

He’d talk to me about his mom

And how his dad worked

For the city as a trash collector

The way he talked I could imagine them both

Full of courage and of pride to be the humble

People that they were

only they didn’t know

They were proud-but Billy saw that

and he talked to me about them-

pride gleaming in his jolly eyes

This goes back some 35 to 40 years…

The happy spring of youth still sparked in our gait

For strait is the gate and narrow is the way

It was all before Nixon and the Watergate tapes

when I first met Billy…

By the time I met him, and I didn’t know it

Billy ya habia tenido un conjunto,–“Los Premiers,”

And I didn’t know it back then

That he had music in his soul


His real Chicano politics…

their first big hit was “Nada contingo…”

then he went to Texas Tech

joined the first Chicano Raza group,

Los Tertulianos,

Vice president in 70, President in 71!

He took off north and he returned with a masers degree

In what else? but music, yet he never really talked about it…

And I didn’t know he had music in his soul

What I saw was his concern for everybody born

In Lubbock, West Texas and around…

Billy was Texas bound…although he’d gone to Fargo,

North Dakota, I saw him there, and Wisconsin,

You figure it out, Billy was a forward scout for the Indios

Not for the cavalry of Uncle Sam…or anyone else close to the man…

Time went on and that was Billy

But he changed and one day he turned into Bidal

Like many people changed in West Texas

The quiet ones became loud, the meek ones became proud

And Raza, poor lost Raza, was not lost anymore

They stepped out as lions from their casa

And Billy – I mean Bidal, was in the middle of it all

As if he suddenly turned into an orchestra conductor

Only he had no instruments and never spoke of music

I never knew it then spoke of music

I never knew it then but we were all playing

For and with a master of fine arts, a virtuoso director

A natural Barrio conductor of the symphony of justice

This was no longer Billy the gordito I had met

This was Bidal…the music maker of our new Chicano times!

Bidal changed, and as he changed he changed the streets

He changed the way that people met and where they met

Oh, it was still to drink a beer, but it was where we met that things turned cool

We met at the continas where we organized, or at the dance halls where

Botellas were raffled, or sold—even cakewalks con bironga were allowed

No day was without purpose or decree, or battle plan for change

That was Bidal…his house became the central station of defense!

Times are so different now when we compare them to the ways back then

There’s more participation now, today equality begins to sound

Like a just maybe possibility around the block – back then it was a dream

that we survived thru several decades of West Texas nightmares

Bidal – he had his hand and soul and heart in every change that came

As well as pockets worn so thin — Bidal had to drink beer to look gordito!

The 70’s were times of movement frenzy – of Raza on the go,

Chicano! Chicano! Chicano!

people marched, people walked out of school, people boycotted,

screamed basta! There was a Raza Unida Party, Brown Berets, Teatro Chicano,

the re-birth of Aztlan, and Bidal, Bidal was in the midst of it all…pulling the strings,

waving his conductor’s magic wand!

May I reflect upon his vision of our king?

He wouldn’t let us be a Raza with no mind

Bidal had always wanted us to build a statue

Of the wisest and the funniest borrachito de Lubbock

Because he taught us how to read and write like in the books

And turned us into journalists and barrio sentinels of truth

“Noticias” would come out depending on how much he drank

He did it at his own expense and then invite us to a succulent cook out

beyond the tracks – of beer and chicken necks!

We never built a statue for

Agustin Medina, — Gus, the wisest borrachito in our town

Now Lubbock needs at least to statues

For two of the wisest borrachitos in our town

One for Bidal and one for Agustin Medina

It was such folks that best portrayed the facts

Humble and real – no matter at what cost

Ah, Lubbock, city of a brave and adventurous Raza

Far flung into the flatlands of the dust bowl

Living and surviving in the racist bible belt of middle America

Little did the good the bad and the ugly know

They would have to deal with the likes of a Chicano like Bidal Aguero

Thru sunny days and rainbow glows, thru northern gales and snow

Thru sand and dust and storm, Bidal kept Raza well informed

In the meantime there were things to do:

Such as Ballet Folklorico de Aztlan, sue the School District, fun for local and State

office, go fishing, porear con la familia and his friends, invent a Raza chamber of

commerce, (unheard of in those days!), create a menudazo,

And a baseball team, maybe do a Pancho Clos play, an Adelita play,

Or a cabrito movie – oh, and have a six pack barrio political campaign!

And afterwards, well actually, before all this,

Go hug and love his nietos, – a la ru-ruru-ru-ru!

Oh Lubbock – precious people in a precious town

pueblo de la Raza Cosmica, I carry you, my friends,

As lovely rich pieces of gold in the pockets of my heart

Look you upon the native son you nurtured – and gave birth to

Barrio bato, from the Raza side of town, with a conscience colored brown

The color of the sacred earth from whence we come to which we will return…

Let his poor simple footsteps echo in the volumes of our mind

Let his lighthouse Chicano actions burn forever in our hearts

That we may tell our children, and they in turn their children tell

There was a one, my child, who taught us how to live a conscientious life

With unassuming care with unassuming love, his star rises and shines forever

In the skies!

Oh Pueblo mio, pueblo de orgullo y corazon gigante

Blessed are we to live upon these times, to walk upon these Lubbock streets

For we have lived and witnessed legendary days when giants walked the earth

To teach us lesser folks how to be real – I knew of one, his name is true

His name is real – Bidal Aguero!