Unlike you all, I knew him well
Marino was a very hard working individual. He wasn't in Vietnam, his brother Yeyo was.
Marino did nothing but work his whole life. It was not a quick rise.
Their first place was sort of a shack made from pine board rejects (the kind where the bark is still on both sides.
He was a Morel, but his mom was Ochoa, and he was the eldest of the nephews of Antonio and Cristobal Ochoa, extremely good businessmen from the 50s and 60s. He was the designated heir and received tons of money for investing and enlarging his hardware business. Financiera Ochoa, for example. To give you an idea of "who" Antonio Ochoa is, he is perhaps the largest single vehicle importer in the country.. He has been known to call Toyota, Honda or Daihatsu and order "Boatloads" of vehicles.
Marino was married three times. His first wife died and left him with a little boy. His second wife was a Bermudez, helped him into 'society' but he was never comfortable. They had a little girl , before getting a divorce. Finally he met and married Josefina, the daughter of one of Santiago's most famous MDs. She was his WIFE! And man did she know how to run things. thay had at least two maybe three more kids. They lived modestly, considering what they could have done. None drove magnificant cars or SUVs.
When I was farming back in the late 70s, I could stop by the store when I was leaving for the farm at 5:45 a.m., and there would be Marino, open and ready for business. Yeyo, deeply scared by Vietnam, was usually there with him. Yeyo went to school with Bob Beamon-the world record holder for the long jump in Mexico- and Beamon visited here several times.
One of the first of the family businesses, he, along with Cristobal, was importing wood. He was one of the first BIG importers, and there are pictures in his office of him standing next to trees that are thirty feet around.
He was the first to offer real WOMANIZED (treated w/ 20 year guarantee) lumber. He bought my compadre's business when the compadre wanted to retire. This is currently the Ochoa operation in Santo Domingo.
When the place burned down a few years ago, all the accounts receiveables were burned. Just about every person that owed him a dime, paid up, no questions asked. He never asked for a contract, your word was good enough, and so was his.
If service was lousy, and I, too , have had my delays, it was not intentional, but the result of the shear size of the operation.
About 13 years ago, I walked into his office at 3:30 in the afternoon and said, "Come on, we are going to the golf course." I don't think he had ever taken an afternoon off in his life. He had no idea of what golf was about, nor did he know that so many of his clients, and friends were there.
That afternoon, he fell in love with golf. I made him some clubs and he practiced and played, never enough to become good, but he did have fun. He helped the golf club become what it is today.
Marino was not an educated man, he literally went to the School of Hard Knocks. He used to allow himself 50? a week to play with., go to the movies and a soft drink, maybe a Riki-taki. Marino was not stupid, he was not polished in any superficial way, he was a brilliant businessman with vision. I think it was his lack of reading that killed him. He had not been feeling right and was taking garlic for his blood pressure. He was on a healthydiet, but he ignored all the symptoms: pain inthe upper extremeties, a tightness around the jaw (he had a soft drink and "felt better). He never saw a cardiologist that I know of...
He was teribly shy and extremely private. He was formal to the Nth degree. Over thirty years he never addressed me by anything but my last name. He was that way with many people, instantly knowing that there was a difference, however subtle, in education or "savoir faire". His closest friends were a discredited banker and the younger brother of one of Santiago's most glamourous magnates. He was with them when he died, on the 5th hole on the golf course he loved so much.
He had travelled the world over with his wife and I think he learned a thing or two about living.
HB