SUIT OF GOLD: Richard Evans, The First Black American Bullfighter (Black Traveller and Explorer)
In 1950, Evans went to Mexico in pursuit of his calling as a bullfighter. After 15 years in the arena of death and 178 kills, he was denied the official rank of matador
Peace God,
It’s our favorite month again, when the struggles and accomplishments of Black folks is ostensibly recognized. On some keep it real, some of us live that Black History month shit.
I don’t profess to be a Hotep, but I’m heavily into my Black travel history and digging in the crates for stories about Black folks who dared to journey—especially when they were told not to.
During the 1940s, while serving in the navy, Richard Evans, a Boston native, learned about the art of bullfighting from his Hispanic homie, whose family had a history in the game and were all about that cape life.
While most Black Americans, including my grandparents, were just trying to survive, and waging war against Jim Crow racism, Evans developed a scheme that turned into a masterplan.
After his discharge from service in 1950, Evans traveled to Mexico to pursue his dreams of stepping into the arena, at the age of 24.
Jet Magazine, 1955
A few years later, armed with knowledge of self, Evans had the audacity to tell a reporter that the Moors introduced bullfighting to Europe centuries before it arrived in Mexico.
Imagine that.
While getting his money and skills up, Evans provided for himself by driving a cab in El Paso, Texas, and routinely crossing the border to murder his horned ops in the stadium. During his 15-year career, he is reported to have 178 kills and been gored 10 times.
On some racist bullshit, the Mexican powers that be (aka Pedro Shay Whitey) intervened and he was denied the alternativa ceremony, which would have promoted him to full status as matador.
Despite this, he was not bitter about his life as a bullfighter, he traveled extensively throughout Mexico, and pursued his dreams when most Black Americans could not even think about a master plan, or using a passport. Evans told one reporter “I met Mexico, I saw her as a dark flashing eyed woman, and I loved her.
Years later, after settling in San Diego, the first Black American bullfighter would lecture on college campuses about his years in the game, when he became a master killer, when he was almost as fly as me, when he was carried through the streets as a hero, and when he dodged the horns of death — all while wearing a suit of gold.