http://www.ocregister.com/ocregister/ne ... 250397.php

Tuesday, August 22, 2006
A voice for Latinos
Santa Ana man is the No. 1 morning radio host in Southern California, with an audience of millions.

By CINDY CARCAMO
The Orange County Register



SANTA ANA - Before he became Southern California's No.1 morning disc jockey, Eduardo Sotelo hoped for the impossible.

The 7-year-old grew up in a family that barely earned enough to eat. Still, he yearned for a bicycle he could ride to school.

Selling lemon ice cream in front of his home in Ocotlán, Mexico, wasn't going to cut it. So he scored a job at a bicycle shop, making about five pesos every two weeks. Three pesos went to his mother. The rest funded one bicycle part each payday. The flashy pedals. The rims. The handlebars.

A year later he had built his dream – a burgundy bicycle that he took to school only once before it mysteriously vanished.

It's this determination that pushes him through life. It led him at age 16 to fold himself into the trunk of a car with two others and sneak into the United States.

"I almost lost my life," Sotelo explains. "It makes you appreciate what you have."

Twenty years later, the Saddleback High School graduate has the most morning listeners in Southern California, according to Arbitron's spring ratings. His nationally syndicated show is "El Piolín por la Mañana" ("Tweety Bird in the Morning") on La Nueva 101.9.

• • •

His drive is contagious.

Sotelo helped spur a public wave of activism in the spring that Americans haven't seen in the U.S. since the 1960s. He and other radio personalities urged half a million people to take to the streets across the country, protesting a bill in Congress that would have made it a felony to be in this country illegally.

His voice is often the first many hear while making breakfast, dressing the children for school or on their way to work. He's heard daily by many of the nation's 40 million Spanish-speaking residents.

Sotelo, 35, dubbed Tweety Bird by friends in Santa Ana because of his small stature and full lips, starts at 4 a.m. in his studio in Glendale with "Despiértese! Despiértese!" (Wake Up! Wake Up!").

It's soon followed with: "Why did we come to this country?" To succeed!"

His seven-hour show is laced with Looney Tunes-type sounds infused with the oompah of traditional Mexican music.

One moment he spits out jokes that are sometimes crass but often light-hearted and corny. Seconds later he helps a family telephone a son stationed in Iraq.

Sotelo says he wants his listeners to start the day smiling or laughing.

"Sometimes you wake up and you're sad because of family problems," Sotelo explains.

He and an extensive crew of personalities – many former listeners – crank-call local businesses. A visiting sexologist offers advice on love and sexual problems.

While Sotelo is an entertainer and much of his show is pranks and help-line calls, he says his most important role is to provide information to his listeners – many Latino immigrants – helping them negotiate life in the United States.

Often, he counsels callers. He offers help with immigration problems. He reunites families with international telephone calls. He visits ailing children in hospitals.

Recently, a woman named Irma went to the studio to tell listeners that her sister and eight others were killed in a crash near Yuma, Ariz. Sotelo phoned the Mexican consul, who told listeners on air that Mexican officials would ensure that Irma's family member who survived the crash would be returned home.

Sotelo wins over listeners by calling them "my heart" or "brother." To many he's a hero, an ally, someone who understands their struggles.

He was once an illegal immigrant, after all.

• • •

His first stop was in Santa Ana, where he was met by family members, living with them in a garage on Adams Street in the Delhi neighborhood.

Sotelo worked various jobs before becoming a radio star. He washed cars and collected plastic bottles.

After school at Saddleback High, he rushed to catch a bus to a photo lab.

There, he pretended he was on the radio, mimicking the news of the day, gradually developing his radio personality.

He scored his first radio job delivering the news for a Corona station in the early '90s. When he wasn't on air he washed dishes, acted as a movie extra, worked as a janitor.

"It's important to know different types of jobs," he says.

He'd later take radio jobs in Santa Ana, Oxnard and San Jose before landing a gig in Sacramento. There, immigration agents rapped on his door, delivering a deportation order.

A San Francisco judge ordered him deported.

Handcuffed and ready to go, Sotelo prayed for his luck to change. That same day he was granted a work visa.

Sotelo said he promised God he would help others. Now he helps immigrants avoid the mistakes he made when he first arrived.

Unscrupulous attorneys scammed him out of money a couple of times with promises of getting him residency.

He learned that jaywalking isn't allowed here as it is in Mexico.

He bought false identification to work but says he didn't understand the price if caught.

"It's a felony," Sotelo says, his eyes opening wide. "That's equivalent to killing somebody. I don't think I hurt anybody by working here."

He urges listeners to learn the rules of their adopted country and abide by them.

"It's a great way to show your love for this country," he says.

While he and a dozen other radio personalities called for people to show the economic strength of immigrants on May 1 by taking to the streets, they urged protesters to leave a good impression.

Sotelo asked people to wear white T-shirts, wave U.S. flags and carry plastic bags to pick up trash along the way.

And many of the nearly 1 million in two big marches did just that.

He wants to continue the momentum. On Saturday, Sotelo started his path to U.S. citizenship. He's hoping the thousands of immigrants who listen to him will follow him once more in a massive naturalization campaign launched in Los Angeles.

His first step is to detail how it's done. He'll earn his citizenship, just as he built his burgundy bicycle in Ocotlán. One piece at a time.

His goal? To be able to vote and urge other immigrants to do the same.

CONTACT US: 714-796-7829 or ccarcamo@ocregister.com