came to know Rada in 1984. He lived in an apartment on Luis De La Torre and 21 de Septiembre Streets, in the neighborhood of Pocitos, in Montevideo, and I had a rotisserie two blocks from there.

One day he told me that, besides being a journalist, he had been a tango composer and that a friend who worked on a radio had recorded a cassette for him. «You can’t be so bohemian!», his friend had told him, because Rada had not even one of his recorded pieces.

The problem was that he did not own a machine to play that tape. I offered him to do that in my shop. I left him alone, listening, and I continued taking care of my customers. When one side of the tape was over, I approached him to play the other side of the tape and saw him in a corner, he was sobbing with his head bent. When the last piece was played he asked me another favor:

«I don’t want to take advantage of our friendship but, as you know, I’m very old (he was 84 at that time) and my mother-in-law is alive. She is in a retirement home and on Sundays we bring her home to have lunch with us. You, after lunch with your family, would you please come to my place with that machine of yours to make her listen to these tangos?»

I suggested him taking that radio-recorder with him but when I tried to explain how to handle it we realized that it would be difficult.

On Sunday, around 2 pm I went to his place. He was there, with his wife, his brother-in-law and his mother-in-law. The first thing he told me was his story with Carlos Gardel. When he appeared for a contest at the Teatro 18 de Julio (it was located facing what then was the El Día journal). Gardel was to sing there and later he would choose a tango by a Uruguayan composer to include in his following record.

«I presented one with music by Manuel García Servetto. I remember that because at school I used the books on music appreciation he had written. When the show was over, the ones who had appeared for the contest were allowed to stay.

«The maestro came in and we were all silent. He came closer to the pianist and was placing the sheet music copies, one by one. The maestro hummed a little while the pianist played. Then he was piling them up on the piano. Thereafter, nearly at the end, mine came. He hummed it and said something to the pianist and started it again. He grabbed the sheets and placed them apart. I began to laugh because I was on edge, there was no doubt he had chosen them. Gardel, without looking at me, told the pianist: "What is that man laughing at?". I stood up and told him: "Excuse, maestro, I’m the humble author of those lyrics and I think there are many others that are better than mine". Gardel, without looking at me, told the player "Tell the gentleman that the one who chooses here is me". "Of course, Maestro", I said and sat down. On that day El Zorzal chose two tangos, one was mine».

Later, something incredible happened, there was an unexpected confession, but in a natural way which relieved it of all its drama. The story began when he went to live in Buenos Aires, the nearest mecca to reach success. His girlfriend didn’t accompany him for she did not want to leave her mother alone. He lived in a boardinghouse and every week he wrote to his girlfriend in Montevideo. One day there were no more news and his letters were sent back to sender.

«You see, my brother-in-law —he told me— well, in fact, he’s not my brother-in-law, he’s my wife’s husband. He always was a good-for-nothing and she married him out of spite. When I came to know she married this guy I was in despair and I almost went mad. I spent one week secluded in my room and the only thing I did was to read and read again her letters. Those are the “Cartas viejas”».

«I came back to Montevideo, I kept on seeing her and our romance continued. Later I began to travel often to Buenos Aires, sometimes with her, where she was known as Mrs. Radaelli». And despite my astonishment, he went on: «Her husband was always a good-for-nothing, I always stood them».

By that time, Radaelli had an apartment at the Palacio Salvo (where José Razzano stayed several times). She lived with her husband (whom he had introduced as «his brother-in-law») in the apartment on Luis De La Torre and 21 de Septiembre.

As above said, Radaelli held that her husband was a worthless person and that he had always supported them. «Look, one of these days we were in an armchair watching a comedy and, as we were holding each other’s hands, the jackstraw guy came and made a scandal. Can’t you see? At this time of the game!»

It is an amazing story. Today that would not be much surprising, but we are talking about a love triangle he told me about in 1984 and had been going on for at least 50 years.

Besides having composed tangos, Radaelli had been a journalist. He worked in the old El Día newspaper of the colorado party and, at the times of Don Pepe Batlle, in the El Ideal, which was a version of the El Día but which was released in the evening.

He was the first speaker who was aired when the La Voz del Sol (the radio station related to the Socialist Party) began its broadcastings and he was also an executive of AGADU when it was founded.

Thereafter, he made a living by buying pictures, antiques and works of art in Uruguay, and selling them later in Buenos Aires. Also, on request of Argentine collectors, he searched for artwork in Uruguay.

Ray Rada, as we can see, was quite a character, either due to his poetical sensitivity or his manifold skills and, mainly, because of his incredible love life.