Marcos Jorge Verón: Son of the Uruguay River, Maker of Bricks and Dreams
Description: Biography of Marcos J. Verón (1928-2009): from Pueblo Liebig to the ceramic industry, family, literature and memory.
Biography of Marcos J. Verón (1928-2009): from Pueblo Liebig to the ceramic industry, family, literature and memory.
Marcos Jorge Verón: Son of the Uruguay River, Maker of Bricks and Dreams
Chronicle of a life between silt, machinery and memory
1. Roots in the Uruguay River
On 25 April 1928, in the Segundo district of Colón Department, Entre Ríos Province, Marcos Jorge Verón was born, the fruit of the love between Catalina Ferrando —granddaughter of Louis Ferrando and María Odone— and Paulino Verón, whose paternal lineage honoured Grandmother Felicia Verón. The youngest of nine siblings —Luis, José, Chepa, María, Vichi, Dorila, Ana María and Carlos Raymundo—, Marcos grew up in the heart of Pueblo Liebig, a spot on the banks of the mighty Uruguay River. This settlement, born to the rhythm of the English-owned Liebig Extract of Meat Company —an industry that sprang from the genius of German chemist Justus von Liebig— remained a private fiefdom until 1975, a world of workers bound together by the smoke of the boilers and the aroma of beef extract. There, at School No. 16 “Hipólito Vieytes” (founded in 1908), the only beacon of knowledge for generations, Marcos absorbed his first letters while the village pulsed like a collective heart.
Marcos’ childhood was a hymn to Entre Ríos daring, where poverty wove unbreakable bonds that took root in the soul like deep tendrils. He would recall with bright eyes how he and his siblings used to swim to a nearby island, defying currents and eddies. They drove away the paper wasps with smoke from dry branches in order to harvest their golden honey —a sweet bounty shared around communal campfires—. Such rituals forged not only strong bodies but a sense of belonging the heart keeps forever, like a beacon in memory. Liebig was a metaphor for working-class solidarity, an antidote to the loneliness of future exile, reminding us that rural communities turn scarcity into collective epic.
2. Youth and apprenticeship
Between the ages of 17 and 18, life pushed him toward Buenos Aires in search of work, leaving behind the river for the outskirts of the capital. He lived in a humble boarding house in Colegiales, sharing dreams with strangers. In 1946, at age 18, he completed the mandatory military enrolment booklet, receiving his discharge from the army in January 1949 (National ID No. 4,231,516).
From the Salesians he learned electricity and early electronics —valves that lit wonders—, mattress-making in arts and crafts, and chess as a balm for the soul. Later he moved to Beccar, San Isidro, and lived with his brother Carlos Raymundo. Friends surrounded him like constellations: he danced tango with feline passion and sang it on evenings of barbecue and friendship. A voracious reader of Borges —whose labyrinths mirrored his life—, Agatha Christie and literary legions. I still keep his books, silent witnesses of a spirit that devoured worlds. His life teemed with friends, a human tapestry, a vital support network.
3. The brickmaker
On 22 February 1954, at age 25, he joined Fontana & Luchetti S.A., brick manufacturers. There he tamed the first automatic ceramic machine, imported from Italy: an electromechanical colossus without a PLC (still distant, post-1968), with contactors for three-phase motors, rotary switches, pneumatic timers and hydraulic pressure sensors that compacted clay without bubbles. Trained by Italian technicians —diagram reading, three-phase safety, practical tests—, Marcos became the guardian of that beast, a symbol of his ascent from the river to industry, where the workers’ sweat transmuted mud into homes.
With that machine, Marcos not only mastered a technological milestone of his time; he embodied the shift from craftsman to specialised technician in a country that was beginning to beat to the rhythm of its factories. Every flawless brick bore the invisible signature of his dedication.
4. Family, values and resilience
On 16 November 1967 he married Martha Elvira Schenone —my mother—, moving three years later, with her and me, to Villa Ballester, where he built a new nest of laughter, reading, chess and tangos, shared with my maternal grandparents, Juan (Giovanni) Schenone and Elvira Robello. There he instilled honesty, effort, work and study as the only paths to weaving solid destinies, always kindly welcoming the nephews and nieces who reached Buenos Aires in search of opportunities: he opened his door, gave them lodging and funded part of their expenses, extending his embrace to the new generations of Pueblo Liebig.
In the year 2000, at 72, far from bowing before the political “emergency” that devoured savings —an immoral act that wounded the basic sense of justice—, he filed a judicial action for our property rights. He fought to the end, with no final ruling.
5. Living legacy
He passed away on 14 August 2009 at age 81, having sown kindness, friendship and respect in every person who knew him. In his departure, Pueblo Liebig and the Uruguay River whisper that behind every person there are honey islands, hands outstretched in times of need, and a courage that beats in shared memories —a warm echo that embraces us even today, joining hearts across time.
Today his books, his imaginary chess matches, and the distant hum of that Italian machine form an intangible heritage that speaks to those of us who follow in his wake. Because men like Marcos never truly die: they turn into stories.
📚 Links of interest
Commitment to memory and narrative excellence.