For a character actor known for tough guy roles, Danny Trejo has become surprisingly ubiquitous in Los Angeles. Trejo’s Do-Nuts and Trejo’s Coffee shops are scattered about the city, and his voice is one of those who greets you at LAX. And I’m all right with that. LA could definitely do worse. But the story of his life and how he got to this point would be laughed out of a writers’ table as just too improbable.
He was in and out of most of the California prison system from the time he was a teen, from San Quentin and Folsom on down. Mostly drugs, assault, theft. It was just the way it was, a way of life for his family and friends. But somewhere along the line, he was thrown into solitary, and managed to recover from heroin addiction. And then found out he had a knack for helping others do the same. So when he was released, he began to work for recovery programs, finally having a purpose in life.
He maintained contact with many friends who were still inmates, and in the 80s, when Hollywood was looking to make gritty “street” movies, he found a second career as a consultant as well as an actor. He was typically cast as second tier bad guy, but also worked as a liaison with the prison population, providing invaluable information for the film crew. Working with a group of cocky method actors playing inmates, he had to point out the obvious. When they complained about wearing safety vests (it “disrupted their ability to stay in character”) when not filming, he pointed out
“If anything happens, the guards will know who not to shoot.”
Everyone put on their vests.
And as a personal note, I lived for a decade in the same neighborhood in which he grew up. Our first condo! Hey, it was cheap. And no lies detected.
One more note. I am familiar with the term ”homes” to indicate friends, but Trejo spells it “holmes”. Which gives me some weird vibes, I gotta tell ya.
