This is the fourth installment of my project titled "Texas Hands", so make sure to check out my previous posts!
This particular story begins in the heart of the West-side of San Antonio and takes you for a ride on the I-35 corridor. It is with heartfelt San Antonio pride that I share this intricate story of a Brass-man.
Thank you for taking the time to read this story and please share with Texas history aficionados, grab your cup of coffee and enjoy!
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I recently read an article, where researchers have identified what they believe to be the oldest-known musical instruments in the world. They discovered two flutes in a cave in southern Germany known as the Swabian Jura.
The Swabian Jura is a collection of six caves, which were used by Ice Age Humans for shelter about 33,000 to 43,000 years ago. The caves are located in the Lone and Ach Valleys. Scientists used carbon dating to show that the flutes were between 42,000 and 43,000 years old.
The Swabian Jura is a collection of six caves, which were used by Ice Age Humans for shelter about 33,000 to 43,000 years ago. The caves are located in the Lone and Ach Valleys. Scientists used carbon dating to show that the flutes were between 42,000 and 43,000 years old.
Now, you don’t have to travel to Southern Germany to see something equally as impressive. Simply hop in your car and jump onto I35 South and head to San Antonio. No, you won’t find a cave or a flute of such antiquity. However, what you will find is a man that is a true Texas treasure.
Pete Rodriguez has been repairing and overhauling brass and woodwind instruments in his shop, tucked away in a neighborhood, in the heart of San Antonio’s South Side for 50 years. I’m no stranger to the shop, having had several children who played in both middle school and high school bands. Several days prior to my interview, I stopped by to say hello and explain the project that I was working on. I asked if he would consider being a part of it, and without hesitation he said, “Yes!” We set an appointment and I agreed to return in a couple of days.
Pete Rodriguez has been repairing and overhauling brass and woodwind instruments in his shop, tucked away in a neighborhood, in the heart of San Antonio’s South Side for 50 years. I’m no stranger to the shop, having had several children who played in both middle school and high school bands. Several days prior to my interview, I stopped by to say hello and explain the project that I was working on. I asked if he would consider being a part of it, and without hesitation he said, “Yes!” We set an appointment and I agreed to return in a couple of days.
As I prepared for the interview, I knew that this story would not be an easy one to tell. I would have to approach this not only from a craftsmanship perspective, but from a historical perspective as well. At a vibrant 83 years of age, coupled with a great sense of intellectual humor, (and I say that with all due respect) Pete has seen many things and events in his lifetime so there was lots to uncover.
On a cool Thursday morning, I walked into the shop and tapped the brass bell, which alerted him (something tells me that the bell has been tuned). He stepped around the corner and removed his Optivisor, greeted me with a smile at the counter and under his breath said, “Oh yes, it must be Thursday”.
He invited me behind the glass sales counter and gave me a tour of the shop. Truthfully, it felt more like museum than a shop to me.
There were instruments hanging from the ceiling, vintage tools, and pieces of machinery that had a beautiful patina; the kind of patina that speaks to my soul. He kept moving and talking, but my feet were stuck to the ground like a rare earth magnet, as I drooled over the modified tools he had either retrofitted or designed from scratch. I’m not ashamed to admit that at this very moment, Pete became like a real-life Super Hero to me.
He invited me behind the glass sales counter and gave me a tour of the shop. Truthfully, it felt more like museum than a shop to me.
There were instruments hanging from the ceiling, vintage tools, and pieces of machinery that had a beautiful patina; the kind of patina that speaks to my soul. He kept moving and talking, but my feet were stuck to the ground like a rare earth magnet, as I drooled over the modified tools he had either retrofitted or designed from scratch. I’m not ashamed to admit that at this very moment, Pete became like a real-life Super Hero to me.
I had no idea the depth of services they provide. Not only do they offer cork and pad replacement, soldering, dent removal, straightening, tightening, tuning and tweaking, they electro plate and lacquer as well… I’m out of breath just typing that list! The primary question is what DON’T they do!
Which brings me to this question, how did he get started in the first place?
Which brings me to this question, how did he get started in the first place?
I wouldn’t be lying if I told you that a family of bassoon makers from Armenia had a hand in this, but let me start from the beginning. Pete was born in 1936, to Delfino and Beatriz Rodriguez. They lived in a humble home on Hidalgo Street in San Antonio’s West Side, which by the way is known for producing some of the best horn players in the region. Their family motto was School 1st, work 2nd, saving 3rd, and if there was anything leftover, fun and entertainment.
There were no musicians in the Rodriguez household. In fact, radios were considered a luxury at the time and his only exposure to music was at community events, such as Cinco de Mayo celebrations and other fiestas.
He attended Frank Johnson Primary School and secondary at Sidney Lanier, which was grades 7-12 at the time.
He had a desire to join the band program, but since you couldn’t join till the 9th grade, he played the violin in the orchestra, which was a pre-requisite.
He attended Frank Johnson Primary School and secondary at Sidney Lanier, which was grades 7-12 at the time.
He had a desire to join the band program, but since you couldn’t join till the 9th grade, he played the violin in the orchestra, which was a pre-requisite.
He ultimately joined the concert and marching band, which was under the direction of William Zimmers who had studied violin at the Cincinnati Conservatory. Zimmers had also served as a conductor for the silent movies at the world-renowned Majestic Theater.
According to his director, Pete had an ear for music and played the trumpet with relative ease.
According to his director, Pete had an ear for music and played the trumpet with relative ease.
At the time, Lanier was well known for it’s sock hops, which were held every Friday. Pete recalls that students from neighboring schools would go out of their way to attend! These dances were spearheaded by Vice Principal Fidel. L. Tafolla, in an effort to build a strong community and to provide a safe environment for boys and girls to socialize. Mr. Zimmers would provide the entertainment. He put together a pop band in which the musicians rotated, in order to provide every student an opportunity to play.
After the passing of Mr. Zimmers, they had several substitute teachers. Several months passed until they received notification that his replacement would be a man by the name of Alfred Sturchio, a trumpet player. Alfred came from a family of musicians, his father, Frank Sturchio, was head of the music department at St. Mary’s University, a position held for 19 years. Frank had also worked with the famous composer John Philip Sousa, “The American March King”. Ever heard of the Sousaphone? Well he and James Welsh Pepper invented it! (but that’s another story)
Now a senior, college was not within reach for Pete and his family, and Alfred encouraged him to audition for Frank “Pop” Sturchio”, as he was endearingly called. Pete recalls the audition; Pop said, “Son, you play well, but I have no need for a trumpet player. Can you learn to play French horn? It will get you through school!” Pete replied, “Absolutely!”
In 1953 Pete enrolled at St. Mary’s University and later graduated with a degree in music.
He married his high school sweetheart, Arjelia, and moved to the Dallas area where he taught music from 1958-1960. At that time, teachers were only paid for 9 months out of the year, so he took on a part time job to make up the difference. The second summer of his teaching career was afoot, and he had not secured a summer job. He also began to second-guess himself, as the classroom setting wasn’t exactly what he had hoped. He asked local music store manager, George Gates, who frequented his school, if they needed any help, and he politely stated that they did not. He suggested that perhaps the repairman who worked out of the music store could use a hand and encouraged Pete to pay him a visit.
So, stay with me now. Do you remember the family of Armenian Bassoon makers? Well this is where they come into the picture. The Sevela family had escaped Armenia during the time of the Ottoman Genocide and in the mid 1930’s they settled in Minnesota. The family went to work at the largest instrument manufacturer at the time, the C.G Conn Factory.
Their son, Jim, quickly moved up in the ranks and became the Superintendent of the brass department. During World War II, he was drafted by the US Army and assigned to repair binoculars and other viewing instruments made of brass. After the war, Jim met a gal and moved to Dallas, Texas, where he set-up his musical instrument repair shop in the Brook Mays Music Store.
Their son, Jim, quickly moved up in the ranks and became the Superintendent of the brass department. During World War II, he was drafted by the US Army and assigned to repair binoculars and other viewing instruments made of brass. After the war, Jim met a gal and moved to Dallas, Texas, where he set-up his musical instrument repair shop in the Brook Mays Music Store.
A chance meeting would change the course of Pete’s career, as he would never again step foot inside a classroom. Jim took him under his wing, sharing specialized techniques in both repair and maintenance. Pete described Jim as a “Gift and a Light”.
With a newfound passion and skill, Pete returned to San Antonio in late 1960. He opened his very own repair shop, and for the past 50 years, has worked with band directors and school districts from across the state. He has built a reputation rooted in excellence and attention to detail that is second to none. His vast knowledge and experience, in both brass and woodwind instruments, is extraordinary. Folks from as far away as Hawaii have shipped their instruments for service and repair. Instrument manufacturers have also recognized Pete as the go-to person for custom work and major over hauls.
While he appreciates all the accolades, if you ask him what truly brings him joy, he will tell you that the impact music has on a child’s education is the most rewarding. He experienced this in his own life and has never lost sight of that. His advice to parents when they stop in to window shop has always been, “If your child is in the band, you will know where he or she is at all times.” From that perspective, an instrument would seem like a small investment in the grand scheme of things.
Today, he and his son, Hugo, work side by side in the family business. They are also joined by his grandson, Alec Zander Rodriguez, who continues the family tradition. The shop hasn’t changed much over the years and you can still take your banged up, out of tune, dried out, bad repair job, flattened, pre-civil war, family heirloom, that’s been sitting in a chicken coop (which is a thing by the way) and they will overhaul your instrument to like-new condition.
As I mentioned at the onset, there are so many layers to this remarkable story and the precious thread, that is woven throughout this timeline, is as rare as the flutes found in the cave. The time I spent with Pete was filled with interesting anecdotes. He was very patient with me as a fired away question after question, and he took me along for the ride as he tapped into his memory bank.
There were so many moments during our conversation where I had to stop him so that I could make a note of something I wanted to re-visit. Folks like Pete are the reason I started this project in the first place.
There is a saying you may be familiar with that is very fitting, “Some people say a lot, while some have a lot to say,” Pete falls into the latter.
There were so many moments during our conversation where I had to stop him so that I could make a note of something I wanted to re-visit. Folks like Pete are the reason I started this project in the first place.
There is a saying you may be familiar with that is very fitting, “Some people say a lot, while some have a lot to say,” Pete falls into the latter.
The truth is, we must be willing to listen!
As is customary, my trusty Nikon made an appearance and together we captured some still images. These static images are a representation of a dynamic human being. Pete, my friend, you too are a “Gift and a Light”. Your perseverance and character speak for itself and I am honored to have shared time and space with you, the man with these “Texas Hands”.