Her Name Was Dolores Read online

  Together, Gabo and Jen knocked on every radio station’s door and promoted the hell out of her backstory and her music. They were working as a united front and they were unstoppable; it was them against the world in Mexico. Gabo babysat while Jen interviewed, then he went out and did public relations for her, and if the driver wasn’t available for any leg of the tour, Gabo would hop in and drive them to their next destination, no complaints, no qualms, no reservations. They knew they had to roll up their sleeves and work hard, and that’s exactly what they did. Their days started bright and early and ended very late, but they had to keep going.

  As Gabo recalls, there were two songs they were pushing on this promo tour. The first one was “Qué me vas a dar si vuelvo,” which was well liked, but at the time La Arrolladora was promoting their version of that same song. La Arrolladora was a well-known band in Mexico, so if the radio station had to choose between the two, since they couldn’t promote both songs, many went with La Arrolladora. Even so, Jenni’s version was becoming popular. Yes, it was a banda version of the song like Arrolladora, but the novelty was hearing a woman sing it. Nevertheless, La Arrolladora was stronger than Jenni, so Gabo decided their best bet was to push another one of her songs from the Parrandera, rebelde y atrevida album, “De contrabando,” a Joan Sebastián song. Now that was the game changer we’d been looking for. “De contrabando” was a huge success and became her first strong hit in both the United States and Mexico. Jenni finally had secured a foothold in the Mexican market, and there was no stopping her now. The “Lupillo’s sister” label was finally history, and the phone started ringing off the hook. We were not only being booked at bigger venues in the United States, but now Mexico wanted Jenni too.

  With José Behar’s support, Arturo Rivera’s connections, and Gabriel Vázquez’s direction in Mexico, Jen was being booked as the main act at county fairs and palenques, which are somewhat like rodeos and are all the rage in Mexico. This had never been done by a woman, and no one expected it would get the welcoming response it did. The Mexican audience usually veered from an older crowd who listened to ranchera music to a younger crowd who listened to pop, where sex sells, so when Jenni came along, she helped merge these two audiences with her sound, her charm, and her life story. As a mother of five, she was considered a señora, but she was also incredibly young at heart and knew how to communicate with the newer generations through her music. To top it off, she put on a show that was up to par with any other great Mexican performer; she had already accumulated a wealth of experience in the United States, so she had mastered her craft and knew how to handle her audience like a professional puppeteer, and they were smitten. Then, in Spring 2006, she got booked at a big palenque in Guadalajara, which was a smash success, and that’s when we all knew she had done it. With the combination of her talent, charm, experience, and the right team, Mexico was now hers for the keeping.

  Bigger and more frequent gigs meant more travel to and from Mexico, which also meant more days on the road with unexpected twists and turns. Gabo kept close tabs on Jen to make sure they made it on time to all of their commitments, but it was no easy feat, as Jen was always notoriously late, and he knew this. If they had to leave a hotel at 6:00 a.m. to catch a flight, Gabo would start calling her at 5:30 a.m. to make sure she was ready, and would then swing by her room only to find her frantically running around the room with her assistant tossing things into half-filled, open suitcases.

  They’d eventually manage to dart out the door and, no matter how early they started their morning, they always arrived at the airport late, making it to the airplane just in the nick of time. Gabo would talk to someone at the airline counter or in the security line, explaining that they were late and if they didn’t hurry, the plane would leave Jenni Rivera behind, and she wouldn’t make it to her next show. Sometimes this worked, sometimes it didn’t, but somehow, they always managed to make the flight. When they finally boarded the plane, Gabo recalls that Jen would use the flight time to either catch up on sleep or read. She loved reading self-help or spiritual books, anything that might inspire her and help her better her life.

  Once they arrived at their destination, they’d check in to the hotel and then, if she was hungry, Gabo always sought out a restaurant that served the city’s or town’s classic dish. That’s what Jenni loved. So, if they were in Guadalajara, she’d want to eat carne en su jugo; if they were in Monterrey, she’d ask for cabrito asado. After chowing down, they’d return to the hotel, where Jen would rest and then get ready for her show. Of course, they would always have to rush out the door at the very last minute to make it to the venue on time. When they were running late, she’d prep in the car and hop out with her microphone in hand and head in the game, walking straight to the stage to face the antsy crowd. The audience would sometimes get rowdy and upset at her tardiness, but would leave that all behind as soon as they saw her on stage. That was part of Jenni’s magic. She knew how to win over her audience regardless of the circumstances. They were enchanted by her charm and authenticity. Gabo often remembers that sometimes, after spending a long time on stage singing and drinking with her fans, she’d suddenly need to use the bathroom, but instead of taking a calculated break, she’d just straight up tell her concertgoers, “Hold on, I have to go pee, I’ll be right back,” and she’d literally leave the stage, go to the bathroom, and then climb back on as if it were the most normal thing to do while performing, and the audience loved her for that. They loved her for being that perfectly imperfect woman they could relate to.

  Once the show ended, if Jen was hungry, Gabo would make sure to have something for her to eat, or they’d stop somewhere to grab a bite, and then head back to the hotel, where Jen would go straight to bed. As Gabo told me, “She would walk through her hotel room’s door, head straight to the bed, get under the covers, and fall asleep instantly. She didn’t even take the time to change into her pajamas. We could’ve all been in the room hanging out and chatting, and she’d have been sleeping placidly by our side.” That was a typical day on tour with Jen and Gabo.

  As I’ve mentioned before, life on the road, whether it was around the United States or Mexico, meant sacrificing time with her children, so she’d take every free moment she had to call home and check in on her kids. She made sure to always stay in touch with them, even if she was in another country. She constantly missed them. Yes, she wanted to follow her passion and do what she loved, but the price she had to pay, the sacrifice of not being with her children, pained her greatly, even though she knew that her success would provide them with a better life. For this same reason, even if she was doubled over with menstrual cramps or feeling under the weather, she knew that the show must go on. If she was going to sacrifice time with her children, you better be damn sure she was going to play every show and attend every event and meeting to justify her absence from home. Yes, she may have arrived late, but she always made it. Her work ethic was impeccable. She knew she was her family’s provider, and they depended on her to put food on the table, and nothing was going to stop her, unless it was a medical emergency, something that Gabo experienced firsthand in Guadalajara in 2007.

  It was Saturday and Gabo and Jenni were traveling from León, Guanajuato, to Guadalajara, where she was scheduled to perform on Sunday in a nearby town. When they arrived in Guadalajara, Jen had a really bad stomachache, but that didn’t stop her. As usual, they checked into the hotel, then went to grab a bite to eat for lunch, and returned to the hotel to rest before they took off to the town where she’d be playing the next day. Gabo asked her if she needed anything, if she wanted him to call a doctor to check out her stomach issues, but she said no. She’d taken some pain relievers and hoped that they would kick in while she rested that afternoon. So they agreed to meet at 9:00 p.m. that night to continue their journey; however, two hours later Gabo got a call on his cell from Jen. When he answered, she said in despair, “Gabo, take me to the hospital, please, I can’t stand the pain any longer, please take me to the ho
spital!” Gabo calmed her down, hung up, called some friends to find out what hospital would be best for her, then he called his assistant, picked her up, and drove straight to Hospital Jardines de Guadalupe. As soon as they walked into the emergency room, she was hospitalized. Given her symptoms, the medical staff believed her appendix had burst, and she had to go into surgery immediately; it was now a life or death situation. Gabo remembers that she was crying from the pain; it was unbearable. As they prepped her for surgery, she handed him her belongings, and in that instant her phone rang. Gabo picked up and it was Jacqie. He had to break the news to her.

  “Your mom isn’t feeling well. Her appendix seems to be the issue, and they’re taking her into surgery now.”

  Jacqie heard him and then said, “May I speak to her?”

  Jenni overheard Gabo’s conversation and, through tears of pain, told him to give her the phone. Meanwhile, she was already on the gurney being wheeled toward the operating room. Jacqie had turned eighteen that day and was calling to tell her mom that now that she was of legal age, she had decided it was time for her to move out of the house. She wanted to be an independent woman and make a life for herself on her own.

  “Princess, please, just wait till I get back home,” Jenni pleaded as she was being rolled away.

  “No, Mom, my things are already in the car and I’m about to leave now.”

  Jen couldn’t believe her ears. She had no choice but to cut the conversation short because her surgery could not wait. As she handed Gabo the phone, she started wailing not only from the physical pain but also from the pain of not being able to be home to deal with her teenage daughter. Gabo did his best to calm her down until they took her into the operating room, and he had to wait outside.

  That was the epitome of Jenni right there. No matter what she was going through, no matter how much pain she might be in, no matter how difficult the circumstances, no matter where she was in the world, she always tried to come through for her family. And this goes not only for her children but for her parents, siblings, and extended family too. If they called to ask her for money, she handed it over, no questions asked, even when the sums came to ten, twenty, or thirty thousand dollars. She felt it was her obligation to give back to them, especially when her star began to rise. And as for her children, although they never had to ask her for money, she always did her best to be there for them, no matter what, even if that meant taking a call from her rebellious teen as they wheeled her off into a life or death surgery. Her love for them had no bounds and no limits.

  Fortunately, the surgery went well. Gabo had to cancel their Sunday show, Jen’s mother traveled to Guadalajara to be by her side, and as soon as the doctor gave her the green light, they returned to Los Angeles.

  Meanwhile, her popularity continued to rise. For her latest album, Mi vida loca, Rocío Sandoval “La Peligrosa,” a Los Angeles radio host, had mentioned a song to Jen that had been a big hit in Mexico and that she thought would be perfect for her. Jen listened to it, liked it, and decided to include it in this album, doing her own take of it in banda style. That song was “Mírame,” and it also climbed the charts and hit number one in both the United States and Mexico. That was it, that was the beginning of the rest of her hit-making career. She kept them coming, her popularity continued to grow, and she was showered with a myriad of work opportunities; however, her personal life was in shambles.

  Chapter 6

  Trials and Tribulations

  By Spring 2006, Jenni was well on her way to becoming a star in both the United States and Mexico. She’d played a sold-out show at the Kodak Theater, and had finally had her first big hit in Mexico with the song “De contrabando,” opening new doors that allowed her to play an important palenque in Guadalajara, which was the start of many more tours and bigger stages in Mexico. As if that weren’t enough, her album Parrandera, rebelde y atrevida had not only made Billboard’s Top 20 Latin Album list, it had also gone gold in Mexico and gold and platinum in the United States. At last, her career was on course, and she was accomplishing her goals and making her dreams a reality. However, not as much could be said about her personal life.

  In April 2006, her first ex-husband, José Trinidad “Trino” Marín, who had been on the run since she had filed a charge against him for sexually assaulting her sister and daughters, was finally caught and detained by the FBI. So, as her divorce from her second husband, Juan López, was finally settled on June 9, 2006, rather than being able to celebrate the closure of this chapter in her life and move on, the nightmarish court battle against Trino was slowly taking shape, a trial that began in April and would last fourteen months, quickly taking center stage in her life and the media.

  Jenni Rivera’s Ex-Husband

  Found Guilty of Sexual Abuse

  By the time this trial came around, I had already gotten to know Jenni better. She always spoke her mind, which made her genuine and endearing to fans, but also caused trouble when it came to handling her in the media. My instinct had always been to keep private issues as private as possible, so as to maintain whatever went public under careful control, but Jen had a different approach in mind. She had decided that she wanted to go public with this story with hopes of not only bringing justice to her family, but also helping other victims who had suffered the same criminal acts but were too afraid to come forward and let their voices be heard. Although sexual abuse unfortunately is not as rare as we would hope, it was definitely uncommon to speak about it openly in our Latino community, especially if you were a celebrity. But Jen was no average public figure. She didn’t mind broaching taboo topics because she was a fighter, and she wanted to do what was in everyone’s best interest, even if that meant she would be scrutinized by the media along the way.

  It was a long and harrowing trial. They appeared in court once a month for fourteen months, and many in the media criticized Jenni for putting Rosie and Chiquis through such a public battle, saying it was just a publicity stunt to get more attention. Some even called them liars, but those allegations fell on deaf ears with Jen and she ploughed forward. I didn’t agree with her method at first, but I wasn’t working with her at the time, so I didn’t have much of a say as her manager.

  Jen and I had had a fallout earlier that year with respect to some award tickets. She was taking her family and also Gabriel, so I got upset seeing it as a favoritism play. However, I later found out Gabo had procured his own tickets. I probably should’ve let that go, but I pressed on, and we ended up butting heads. It wasn’t serious enough to end our relationship, but it was clear we both needed a break, so Jen suggested I go work for her brother Lupillo for a while to see if I could help him reinvigorate his career, which had recently taken a turn for the worse. I accepted, appreciating the opportunity and seeing it as a challenge and a way to prove to her the value of my work. Nevertheless, Jen was my sister in every sense of the word—our bond was profound and strong—so even though we were mad and went our separate ways for a year, it was far from radio silence. We missed each other immensely and made it a point to remain in touch, showing up for each other when we needed support. Case in point, the Trino trial. I was there for her as much as possible throughout the trial, present on many of the court dates, by her side and ready to talk and help as needed. And, as always, I continued to give it to her straight and tell it like it is in hopes that my thoughts or suggestions might be of some help.

  “Jen, I’m not so sure this is a safe subject right now. Your career is going so well, you don’t know, this may all come at a big cost.”

  “It’s something I have to do as a mother, Pete, not an artist!” she said, adamantly. “This isn’t about my career. This is about a mother seeking justice for her daughters and sister.”

  I understood where she was coming from, I got it, but I was still hesitant because this didn’t just involve her. Now her sister and daughters were going to have to face their mortifying past and abuser straight up in the public eye, forced to relive terrifying moments they had
tried to bury deep within. So in their defense, I spoke up.

  “But, this is about their lives, not yours, Jen.”

  “You know, Pete, if I don’t talk about it, it feeds into the reason why our people and our community don’t talk about it, and it’s happened to so many others.”

  She understood they had agonizing days ahead of them, but she also refused to cower silently in the corner and let this asshole get away with it. The time had come to stand up to him once and for all, and also help others do the same in the process. That’s when it clicked for me. I finally realized I had been reacting to the situation like all the other old-school and conservative members of our community, trying to keep this taboo topic quiet and in the privacy of their own lives, sweeping it under the rug, at a loss with how to deal with such an unthinkable situation. Out of sight, out of mind. But Jen was absolutely right. Someone needed to bring up the uncomfortable issues and face them head on, someone had to stand up and say that sexual abuse was not okay, it was not acceptable, and if it happened there were dire consequences to be faced, and that someone in this case was Jenni. She was breaking down walls.