From the desk of… Bill Riccio, Jr.

Sometimes sitting behind the editor’s desk isn’t the font of information many people think it is. There are times – many times, in fact – when things go on and the editor is the last one to know it. Everyone expects that intuitively we can find things out, and have “sources” all over the place. Sometimes the sources think other sources have filled in the blanks and the result is not finding out anything.

Then there are times that life keeps us busy, and we are not in touch with what is going on. That happened this week. I happened outside the office and saw Sandy LoRusso, the elder half of the “two sisters” of political fame, the other being Deb Evangelista. Over the years, the two acquired the name for their working in tandem in politics, starting out as young mothers oh so many years ago.

Anyway, Sandy sees me and she looks a bit distraught. “What’s the matter?”

Then she tells me. Charles A. “Chuck” Marino passed away. I was in Albany over the weekend and hadn’t heard. She was surprised I hadn’t. I wasn’t, but that’s the way things are.

Chuck, 76, passed away and his funeral was held at Our Lady of Victory Church Tuesday. Chuck’s obituary appears adjacent to this column, and if he knew I was writing it, there would be hell to pay.

For several years during the 2000s, Chuck Marino worked for the Voice as a sales representative, and while he was here, the paper was doing fairly well. Marino had a personality, gift of gab, and overall goodness that drew people to him, and made them feel at ease.

There were times I listened to him on the phone, or watched him schmooze potential advertisers here in the office. He had the knack that many sales people wish they had. He was comfortable in his own skin, and very relaxed in his delivery. He could be passionate – and was – but only about matters that he thought important.

I first met Marino when he was on the City Council. It was probably through Debbie and Sandy. They were part of the claque that was in City Hall at the time, staunch supporters of this or that candidate, and ending with supporting – and then not supporting – H. Richard Borer, Jr., the seven-term mayor during the turbulent 90s.

Marino, himself, came into politics the way many do or did: they get involved through the PTA. Marino got involved when his kids were in school, somehow worked his way onto the PTA board, and finally saw enough to know he had to get involved in other ways.

Marino ran for and won the City Council seat for the fourth district. It was there I saw something different in him than in other candidates. He was a Democrat. That’s not surprising. In the aftermath of the collapse of the city during the Evangeliste administration – he being at least a nominal Republican — the GOP suffered then and is suffering now because of that debacle.

He worked as the Finance Committee Chairman, and to this day I’d say he was the finest one we’ve had sitting in that seat, no offense to those who followed. Chuck knew how to read the numbers that filled the ledgers, and knew when something was amiss. It was that knowledge and intuition that caused him to switch alliances from Borer to others.

Marino put a lot of faith in Borer, and for many years Borer did a fine job. But then there was evidence something wasn’t right. Numbers didn’t add up. Explanations didn’t add up, either. Now is not the time to rehash all that transpired, but suffice it to say that the reasons Marino did an about face was because the reasons he supported the incumbent ceased to exist.

That was the difference between Marino and others. To many politicians, Republican or Democrat, it is the party, not the issue that matters. “My party, right or wrong” is the mantra of many politicians, but it wasn’t for Chuck. He had an innate sense of right and wrong, and an innate fairness that wouldn’t allow him to shirk his principles for party loyalty. It was up to the individual to keep his promises, and, when he didn’t, it was time to look elsewhere.

From the time we started the West Haven Voice, Marino showed an interest in the paper. He saw the closure of the old West Haven News and the lack of home-grown information, and supported our work. There were times we disagreed, sometimes passionately, but he respected other people’s point of view – especially if that view was based on principle.

When he came to work here he had lost favor with the political bosses. His coming to the office was looked upon with some bit of suspicion because of his change of allegiances.

Marino and I had many conversations and the topics ranged from local politics to art, literature and social issues. He was what one would call a “Scoop Jackson” Democrat: socially left of center (but not too left) and fiscally and in foreign policy a right-of-center guy.

Eventually, he got back into the political game, running for registrar, winning, then losing. Then he became the secretary of the City Council, putting him back in his old haunts.

Marino stayed himself. Once he left here, we didn’t see each other much, and I missed our talks. He was very cosmopolitan in his views, without being a crazy.

Chuck Marino was one of those people in life that come not-so-often. He had a demeanor and personality that made you respect him, even if you disagreed with everything he believed. He was in a word, decent. That is a commodity not to be found very much these days.

To his wife, Mary, and sons Charles III and James, we wish our condolences and heartfelt thanks for allowing us to know him.