On Wednesday, Aug. 7, 2013, Oscar Marino died. That is like writing the sun went out of the sky and all light failed. As his wife, if I could say I want you, I need you, I love you in a thousand languages, I would; yet, all of them combined could never convey the depth of feeling and commitment we have for one another.
Oscar was born June 3, 1943, in Torrington, Conn.; the first American generation son of Italian immigrants Oscar and Josephine (Amico) Marino. They predeceased him but lived long enough to see Oscar obtain degrees in mathematics, statistics, business and education from the University of Connecticut, Webster University, the University of Wyoming. They took great pride in their son, who became an Air Force officer during the Vietnam conflict and served with honor until his retirement, and then went on to teach at Laramie County Community College. They took greater pride in having raised a son who was loving, kind, intelligent, thoughtful, deliberate, self-reliant, curious and knowledgeable.
Oscar grabbed life with both hands. When anyone asked him how he was doing, he'd answer, "Fantastic and getting better." He meant it. For the past 14 years, he and his wife were full-time RVers who traveled throughout the United States and Europe. He was a downhill skier, tennis player, motorcycle enthusiast, marathon runner, weight lifter, and salmon and trout fisherman. He was a games player who thoroughly enjoyed challenging himself with puzzles and problems, whether they were at the duplicate bridge table or the conundrums in real life.
Oscar leaves behind his wife of 42 years, Patricia (Mac) Marino, his sister Judy Della Donna, brother-in-law Robert, nephew Richard and wife Puy, and niece Carla Plummer and her husband Aaron, all of Connecticut. He also leaves behind his brothers-in-law Mark and Joe Donaldson and their wives Angie and Denise, nephews Beau and his wife Angela and Brad and his wife Ashley, all of Arkansas, as well as a great-nephew, a great-niece and a great-great nephew. He so cherished and remained in contact with the many friends he made throughout the world. The dearest among them are here in Cheyenne: Marty Hardsocg, who was as close to a son as any man could wish, Rod Southworth, who was his amigo, and Phyllis and Perry Jones, who are always there.
A celebration of his life will be held in the near future.