Her Name Was Dolores Read online

  Life on the Road

  When I first got on board with Jenni as her manager, I not only needed to understand what made her tick, I also had to see for myself what kind of audience she drew, who her fans were, and why they kept coming back for more. Figuring out the magic ingredient in this blossoming relationship between singer and fan would help us eventually reach more people and land gigs at bigger venues, one of Jenni’s main goals, so I set off to one of her gigs back in 2003 to see what she was all about on stage.

  Jenni was the opening act, something she had been doing for a while in hopes of exposing her voice and style to larger audiences. It was an uphill battle. First off, she was playing to male-dominated audiences who were there to see the male-centric banda groups who celebrated their machismo. They were not interested in some woman opening the night, and even less so one who at first glance didn’t seem to have the traditional pretty-girl, model-like sex appeal they were used to seeing in other female singers. I quickly realized this would be a tough crowd to win over, and I finally understood why Jen had been so focused on doing covers. At least those were songs they recognized, a first step to getting the audience’s attention. So now it all came down to delivery. And boy could Jen deliver. She belted those songs out as if she were performing on the biggest stage on earth, regardless of whether the audience was paying attention or simply passing the time till the main act came on. And that’s when I noticed the Jenni Rivera phenomenon taking place before my eyes.

  As soon as the women in the audience started to pick up on the lyrics Jen was singing, it was as if they were coming out of a deep slumber. They started exchanging looks, glancing her way, and paying closer attention to what she had to say. Because Jen didn’t just stand on stage and sing songs, she worked the room, she interacted with her audience, and as she spoke directly to them, it was like she had woken up the wolf. Regardless of whether they were single and with their girlfriends or coupled and with their significant others, those women came alive. They edged nearer to the stage, pulled in by this singer up there, expressing thoughts that they had wanted to voice but didn’t dare say out loud. And Jen was there, leading them through this awakening, her songs like battle cries and protest anthems that placed women squarely in the game. It was beautiful to watch.

  So, yes, they were listening to songs they knew, but they were also discovering this brash young woman who wasn’t afraid to tell it like it is. Ultimately, what won them over wasn’t her voice, it wasn’t the covers, it was her charisma, her personality, her charm, her balls, the fearless strength she displayed on stage in those initial, male-dominated gigs. She was suddenly becoming their pied piper, and the news was spreading like wild fire. With each consecutive gig, the audience numbers began to visibly rise, at times literally doubling from one night to the next. A few gigs later, when we looked around, we suddenly realized the room was filled with a predominantly female audience. Word was getting around that there was a badass lady on stage singing and speaking to and for women. They had to go see it for themselves, and as soon as they saw her in action, they were hooked. This is how Jen began to build her loyal fan base, one that went from ten, twenty, thirty, to hundreds, thousands, and eventually millions.

  Although her fan base was undoubtedly mostly made up of women, men came flocking to her shows too. Yes, some were the husbands and boyfriends who were there accompanying their partners, but single men quickly discovered two things about Jenni’s shows: she had an undeniable sex appeal, and her performances were the perfect place to pick up other single women. They knew that the odds would be in their favor, so they’d show up in hopes of making a connection, and, observing this, Jenni would outright tease them about it from the stage with her characteristic charm. Yeah, they liked her music, but, hey, let’s be real, it’s kind of hard to really dig a show when the person performing is basically talking shit about you the entire night. Nevertheless, they stuck it out and ended up having a great time.

  When Jen realized that the audience numbers were on the up and up and her fan base was growing, I remember she reacted the same way she would react later, each time she hit a personal milestone in her career, like when she sold out the Staples Center: she was always grateful and in awe that they loved her so much and supported her no matter what—every fan was special to her. From day one to the very last day of her life, she never took them for granted; she was consistently and constantly grateful, giving them all she had because she understood from the start that her fans were the ones who helped her feed her family and allowed her to follow her passion. She’d often say, “I thank God for giving me this audience. You lift me up, cheer me on, love me. Thanks for making me happy!”

  At the start of her music career, Jen didn’t have the full support of a record label, she wasn’t a producer’s product, she was the result of hard work, perseverance, faith, and her fans’ loyalty. She earned her fame and in the process she started a movement. This phenomenon set the course and built the infrastructure for the person who would later become known as La Diva de la Banda, and she finally had the right group of people in place to help her make it all come to fruition. Along with me, Jenni’s team included her assistant, Jessie; her publicist, Yanalté Galván; her road manager, Gabriel Vázquez; and her four-piece Norteño band.

  At first, her fans would come up to her and give her letters and small presents, from bracelets to little medals to prayer cards to keep her safe, and Jenni cherished each and every gift so much she designated a trunk in her garage just for these trinkets. She’d take the letters to her office and open and read them herself, but there came a point where there were too many for her to handle alone; that’s when Jen decided she needed help, so she recruited Jessie, her bass player’s wife, to help her handle the fan mail. Jessie also went on the road with Jenni and was in charge of helping her out with whatever she needed, including snapping photos and taking care of the concert merchandise. Jenni was a business woman, after all, and her keen entrepreneurial spirit never slept, so she knew that she could kill two birds with one stone by selling concert merchandise at her shows: the fans would go home happy, and she’d go home with some extra cash to continue supporting her family.

  Then there was Yanalté Galván, her publicist, a short and feisty lady with a passion that bordered on bullying—exactly what Jenni needed at the start of her career. If she was going to really break through this difficult market, she needed someone as aggressive and full of gumption as Yanalté on her side. Yanalté was instrumental in getting Jen’s career off the ground, a badger who would do nothing short of making sure that Jen got the publicity she needed. They later parted ways, but when I joined the team, they were going full-steam ahead, and we were all in this together. We believed in Jen and wanted to see her accomplish everything she set out to do, and we couldn’t have done it without Gabriel “Gabo” Vázquez, her road manager, who shaped her touring career and road life and knew how to get her the gigs she needed to hit the ground running, so she could reach those long-awaited milestones in her career.

  Gabo and Jen officially met in 2001; however, they first crossed paths in 1999 at an event in Stockton, California. Many bands were taking the stage that day, so it was a pretty hectic scene, with trails of people coming and going. Yet, Gabo recalls as if it were yesterday seeing Jen at that event, standing next to the stairs that led to the stage, dressed in black, with the mic in hand, waiting for her turn to go on, completely alone amid the sea of people and activity. It really hit him, how lonely she looked, with no one there to accompany her before her performance. Her manager was likely tracking down the promoter to get paid, who knows, but Gabo just can’t shake that first image of her. There were no fans to be seen—and those events were usually swarming with them because they knew exactly where to find their favorite artists—it was just Jen and her mic against the world. Gabo was so taken aback by this desolate scene that he decided to approach her.

  “Good evening.”

  “Good evening,” she answ
ered

  “Do you need anything?” asked Gabo. “Estamos a la orden. We’re at your service.”

  “Oh, no, thank you. I’m about to go on stage, but thank you.”

  She didn’t know who Gabo was, but she was very gracious and kind in their interaction. Gabo was in the music business, so he knew she was Lupillo Rivera’s sister, that godforsaken title that haunted her wherever she went. When Gabo tells this story, he is always in awe because he never in his life would’ve imagined that he would end up working for this woman standing before him for the following decade. He never thought this woman, who seemed somewhat abandoned and alone, known only as Lupillo’s sister, would become the Diva we all grew to love, our legendary Jenni Rivera.

  But back then it was all about Lupillo. Gabo had heard one of Jenni’s songs on the radio, but he wasn’t a big fan of her voice, which was still somewhat thin and jarring. And he thought, Lupillo Rivera, now Jenni Rivera, who’s next? Their children and grandchildren? What are they, the Jackson 5? Nevertheless, when a friend in common, popular L.A. radio host Gerardo “El Carnalillo” Tello, reached out to Gabo and told him Jenni was looking for him, Gabo gave him the greenlight to give her his phone number.

  At the time, Gabo was doing well for himself, working with different bands, including Palomo, who had a hit, “No me conoces aún,” that had been number one on the Billboard charts for weeks, so work was thriving. Jenni had taken note of two successful events, one for Pablo Montero and the other for Palomo, that had happened recently, and when she asked her friend “El Carnalillo” who had brought these groups to California, he mentioned Gabo. He told her Gabo had his own office and was doing very well for himself, so she asked to meet him. Gabo wasn’t sure why she wanted to talk to him; he figured she had her father’s team at her disposal, the same one that was taking care of Lupillo, so he was curious to see what she had to say.

  The following day, as Gabo checked his messages in his office—cell phones were a hot commodity, but the minutes could run up quite a bill, so landlines were still a solid form of communication—there was one from Jenni introducing herself in her polite and well-spoken manner, asking for an appointment to meet. Gabo was impressed by the message, so he called her back immediately. They exchanged greetings and, much like she did with me when we meet a couple of years later, she cut right to the chase. “I’m desperate, I feel my talent is going to waste.” Gabo recalls that phrase, “going to waste” or “desaprovechada,” as if it were yesterday because she kept repeating it over and over in that first conversation.

  “I’ve been working with my brother Lupillo Rivera’s team, but it seems they only have time for him. I’m ready to work hard and make something of myself in this industry. That’s why I’m calling you.”

  “What do you expect from all of this? Do you see this as a temporary or lifelong career?” asked Gabo. He’d heard through the industry grapevine that she had just had her fifth child, so he was testing the waters to make sure she was for real.

  “My career is very important to me,” she said. “I want to sing and be remembered like Paquita la del Barrio.”

  She had a clear vision of where she wanted to go and what she wanted to accomplish. Gabo quickly realized that Jenni was in it for the long haul, she felt she had a future in this, and she was in it to succeed. Her entrepreneurial spirit kicked in later, but when she spoke to Gabo, all she wanted to do was sing. She knew she needed more exposure and that’s where Gabo came in. Once he heard her conviction and how hard she was willing to work, he was in.

  When they started working together, Jen was still playing small local clubs and wasn’t reaching as many people as she needed in order to survive in this industry. She had an underground following, but in order to get booked in bigger venues, she needed a bigger fan base. Gabo figured that the best way to do this was to book her as an opening act for groups that played for larger crowds. That’s when she started playing more of those bigger male-dominated circuits and slowly began to win over her army of women through her performances.

  Meanwhile, by the time Jen teamed up with Gabo, she and her husband, Juan Lopez, had quit their day jobs to dedicate all their time to her career. Juan had taken on the role as her manager, which in the end did not bode well for their relationship, especially since, early on in their marriage, Jen had gotten wind that Juan had been cheating on her with other women from his office. A few years later, she sat me down and told me the story of how she handled it, and I couldn’t believe my ears.

  Juan was a good-looking man who was a great father to Jenni’s children. He seemed like everything Jenni had been looking for in a partner: a man who was a good father, handsome, loved her, and smelled amazing all the time (a remark she often made about him). But he was lacking the work ethic her father had instilled in her from a young age. When they quit their jobs to focus on her career, she became the sole provider of the house. Yes, he made money, but she was the one paying him, so technically it was still money she earned. She put in endless hours to get her career off the ground while he stayed home taking long baths with pepinos on his eyes and a face mask, more focused on his looks than his job. Suddenly, she started to feel like she was the man in the relationship, something she did not enjoy one bit. Yeah, he bought her gifts and all, but even though the thought counted, it was hard for her to accept them because she knew they were purchased with her own money—like the time when he gave her an expensive fur coat and her initial response was, “Oh, great, so my money bought me a fur coat.” However, before she had decided to sideline everything and give her music career a real chance, her marriage to Juan suffered the ultimate challenge: betrayal.

  In June 1998 Jen found out Juan was having an affair with a few women at his office; however, instead of exploding a la Jenni, she held it all in and said nothing. She carefully planned her revenge and put it in action, spending the following two months getting back in shape and winning him over, making him fall in love with her all over again, acting like the perfect wife. Things were apparently going better for them, but little did Juan know this was all part of Jen’s plan. It all went down one August morning in 1998, after making love to him the way he liked it the night before, then waking up and making him his favorite breakfast. As he sat there basking in how good he had it, telling her he loved her, she smiled, gave him his lunch, and kissed him good-bye. However, later that morning she had her friend drive her to his office, where she stormed in and confronted him with the affairs, humiliating him in front of his coworkers and telling him it was over. But the plan wasn’t completely over and done with yet. Jen had recently seen Waiting to Exhale, which proved to be just the inspiration she needed for what came next. She drove back home, grabbed all his precious belongings, and burned all his shit in their driveway. As she told me all of this, it felt like it was straight out of a movie. “You’re one dangerous and crazy woman,” I said to her. That seemed like the end, but it wasn’t.

  A year later, he came crawling back, and she took him in, hoping they’d have it better this second time around. They already had their daughter, Jenicka, who was born in 1997 (a year before she pulled the Waiting to Exhale on him), and as they were trying to make things work, she became pregnant with their second child, her fifth, Johnny, who was born in 2001. And that’s where Gabo comes into the picture as road manager. He had no idea what he was walking into, and he was caught right in the middle of their crossfire the first week on the job, on their first promo tour to Miami.

  Telemundo had invited Jenni, tickets and all, to Miami to appear on one of their morning shows. Gabo, Jenni, and Juan arrived at the Miami hotel the night before the show, checked into their rooms, and went straight to bed. It was already late and they had to be up bright and early the next day. They agreed to meet in the hotel lobby the following morning at 7:00 a.m., with enough time to have a quick breakfast or coffee and hop in the scheduled car that would be picking them up from the channel and driving them to the show.

  So, that next
morning, at 7:00 a.m. sharp, Gabo was standing in the lobby waiting for Jenni and Juan to come down. He’d served himself a cup of tea and continued to patiently wait as the minutes ticked by. At around 7:20 a.m., the elevator doors slid open and out stormed Jenni, somewhat disheveled and late. Gabo told me later that he had pictured the two of them coming down together, hand-in-hand, ready for the show and their morning cup of joe—he had no idea what he was in for. Jen beelined over to Gabo, pleading, “Gabo, help me, please, this man is going to destroy my things, please!” In that instant, the other elevator opened its doors and out came Juan, trying to catch up with her, wearing shorts and a shirt—also not ready for the show. Gabo didn’t know what to do. He just kept looking at Jen, then at Juan, in hopes that they would resolve this issue without involving him. Again, he was pretty new to the team, and now he was suddenly smack in the middle of this couple’s fight. She continued to plead for my help, afraid that he would burn all her stuff, just like she had done a couple of years earlier, but Gabo didn’t know where this fear stemmed from, he didn’t know the story, so he was completely taken aback.

  Meanwhile, the car that was scheduled to pick them up had already arrived, so Gabo had to figure out a way to take control of this scene in the lobby and get Jenni to her scheduled interview ASAP. Jenni realized the car was there and they were already late, so she asked Gabo again, “Please help me. I’ll be fine on my own at the channel. You can catch up with me later, but please stay and make sure he doesn’t destroy any of my stuff.”

  Gabo later told me, “I saw how anxious and distressed she was, but I also thought that if I agreed with her, Juan might get angry at me. I didn’t know him that well yet, since it was our first trip together. For a second I even thought, Is this a joke? Are they playing a prank on me or what? I just didn’t know what to do. Out of all the scenarios I’ve had to deal with on the road, this was a first, and most definitely not the last. I later learned that these explosive fights were normal between them, but I sure wish I had known back then in Miami!”