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 where the Uruguay River not only kisses the land, but narrates it. 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 dense 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, to the rhythm of water and labour.
Marcos' childhood was a hymn to Entre Ríos daring, where poverty did not impoverish the soul, but wove unbreakable bonds, rooted like the willow's roots along the riverbank. He would recall with bright eyes how he and his siblings used to swim to a nearby islet, defying currents and eddies; how they drove away the paper wasps with the faint smoke of dry branches, to harvest their golden honey —a sweet bounty shared around communal campfires, beneath a starry sky that seemed complicit—. Those rituals forged not only strong bodies, but a sense of belonging the heart keeps as a beacon in memory. Liebig was a living metaphor for working-class solidarity: an antidote to the loneliness of future exile, an eternal reminder 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 Belgrano, sharing dreams with strangers, while the city unfolded its lights and shadows before him. In 1946, at age 18, he completed the mandatory military enrolment booklet, joining the army on 3 January 1949 and, after completing the training period up to the final exercise, he was discharged in September of the same year, remaining registered as a reservist (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: a board of patience, a school of strategy, a refuge of silence.
Around the same time, his brother Carlos Raymundo —two years his senior— also migrated to Buenos Aires. Carlos went into construction and learned the trade of bricklayer on the job. A plot was acquired at Alto Perú 2020, in Beccar, San Isidro, where Carlos began to build a house they called "El Palacio" (The Palace). On 11 February 1956 Carlos married Magdalena Kilty, and on 12 February 1957 their son Juan Carlos was born.
Marcos left the boarding house and moved in with his brother at "El Palacio". Once settled in Beccar and while working at the factory, he cultivated a close-knit circle of friends. They would gather to dance tango with feline passion and sing it on evenings of barbecue and friendship, beneath a moon that seemed to listen. He was a voracious reader of Borges —whose labyrinths mirrored his life—, of Agatha Christie and of literary legions. I still keep his books, silent witnesses of a spirit that devoured worlds; I hold them today like one holds embers of a fire that never goes out. His life teemed with friends; a human tapestry, a vital support network, threads of trust woven into the fabric of the everyday.
In July 1958, at the age of 30, Marcos bought his own plot of land in Beccar, Cuartel Séptimo, from Mr. Héctor Fontana, represented by the property management company Petrelli & Cía., for $20,000 in national currency. Some time later, he temporarily transferred it to one of his nieces so that she could live there with her family; when they returned to Entre Ríos, Marcos sold the property.
Cinzano, in the 1960s, purchased a plot of land on Route 202, kilometre 15, between gates 6 and 4, opposite Campo de Mayo, with the intention of relocating its plant from Buenos Aires City. Carlos worked at that plant, through a contractor, carrying out maintenance tasks. They offered him the chance to move to the site as caretaker and manager, and he accepted. He lived there for over a decade. The new wine law required bottling at source, so the factory relocation project was cancelled and the land became a sports field for employees.
Marcos met Martha Elvira Schenone —my mother— through a cousin of hers. During their courtship, they would visit Carlos at the field and share barbecues and conversation, laughter tangling with the woodsmoke. Over the years, those visits became a bridge between the life Marcos was beginning to build and the ties he already had.
Magdalena passed away on 3 July 1969. Some time later, Carlos would remarry María and move with his new family —María and her daughters Mónica and Marta— and his son, Juan Carlos, to Moreno. Meanwhile, Marcos stayed in Beccar, where he would start his own family.
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 that pulsed like industrial hearts, rotary switches that turned with clockmaker precision, pneumatic timers that marked the rhythm of the clay, and hydraulic pressure sensors that compacted the earth without bubbles. Trained by Italian technicians —diagram reading, three-phase safety, practical tests—, Marcos became the guardian of that beast, a symbol of his journey: from the fertile silt of the Uruguay to the baked clay of industry, where his hands, weathered by river and labour, transformed soil into home.
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: not a mark, but a promise —that what is well made endures, that effort becomes foundation.
4. Family, values and resilience
Martha and Marcos married on 16 November 1967. On October 8, 1968, in the San Isidro district, I was born, Jorge. Three years later, in 1970, the three of us moved 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. His house was not just a roof; it was a refuge, a school of life, a lit beacon for those navigating in search of direction.
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; but his struggle was not in vain: he bequeathed to us the certainty that dignity is not negotiable, that memory is also an act of resistance.
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 in childhood, hands outstretched in adversity, courage that beats in every shared memory —a warm echo that still embraces us, a bridge between times, a seed that germinates in those who follow his path.
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 walk his trail. Because men like Marcos never truly die: they turn into stories, into teachings, into a quiet presence that accompanies. And when the Uruguay River kisses the banks of Liebig, it seems to tell us that a life, well lived, does not end: it becomes a current that nourishes other lives.
📚 Links of interest
Commitment to memory and narrative excellence.