‘Painting doctor’ Mars Custodio, 75

A true doctor, a healer, and a concerned friend. Facebook photo

Mars Custodio was my closest friend when I was living in New Jersey. We went through the turbulent ‘70s and ‘80s together, often hanging out Friday nights at his house because he had been depressed by his oncology patients’ passing despite his herculean efforts. Mars could never attend the funerals and wakes of his patients because at the time there was no cure for any type of cancer. All he could do was prolong lives.

After his retirement in the early 2000s, he pursued his lifelong dream of being an artist, not a starving artist mind you, and became known as the painting doctor. His works hang on the walls of many affluent Filipino and Caucasian houses, including the wall on the main staircase of the house owned by Loida Nicolas Lewis.

If we were to survey all our hs59LaSalle classmates, I’m very sure that Mars would emerge as one of the most respected, if not THE most respected classmate. He was a true doctor – a healer, a concerned friend, an advocate, a social facilitator for those who need help finding their bearings in social settings.

He was there when I needed consoling during the trauma of my divorce from my first wife. He was there for his friend and med school classmate Bimbo Dolorico when Bimbo’s wife Vichy passed away in a house fire. He was there for the brother of my sister-in-law Ana Donato Lumba. No one loved and cared for his patients more than Mars.

The last communication that I had with Mars was in August, when he saw my post in Facebook about my illness. He messaged me, asking for particulars about my illness. I had no idea at the time that he himself was in any kind of danger. When he posted the picture of his release from a hospital following his own hospital stay, there was no indication that it was for something serious. He would not give any hint that he could be mere months from his own passing.

That was Mars. That was the guy we all palled around with at the Brown Derby in Quezon City, where we ate footlong hotdogs and listened to music on the music machine. I have forgotten what those machines are called – senior moment. I saw him fight Villavicencio on the driveway of Joji Ferraren’s house on Taft Avenue. Villavicencio was much bigger and stronger, but Mars fought a gallant fight. He got hit a few times with haymakers but he kept on fighting, wouldn’t quit. I don’t know how the fight ended but I’m pretty sure it ended when some of our classmates decided to break it up. Mars would never quit.

In fourth year high school, I was appointed by my friend Gilbert Evaristo as his successor as high school editor of The La Sallite. Gilbert was the closest friend and classmate of my late brother, Nen Lumba. In turn I appointed Mars as grade school editor. All through that year when we were editors of the La Sallite (Oscar Lagman was the college editor, ergo the true editor) I knew deep in my heart that Mars was a better writer than me and that he should have been the high school editor.

Mars consistently was in the top five students in our class. Along with Roberto Manalo, Louie Gamboa, Johnny Reyes and Dickie Gonzalez, he could have been our valedictorian. Those five were razor-thin close in academic achievement.

Our class was one of the smartest classes in the history of La Salle. I don’t know if our record has been broken though I’m sure that if it has not been it will be someday. Records are of course meant to be broken. In college, seven of our smartest classmates graduated Summa Cum Laude from La Salle. That’s seven, my friends. Bombie Pleno, Boy Gamboa, Tony de los Reyes, Dickie Gonzalez, George Uy, Anthony Golamco and one other. I don’t know if any batch can lay claim to that record.

Mars and Cora (center) entertaining long-time friends in his home, from left, Jerry Sibal, Dr. Angie Cruz, Loida Nicolas Lewis, and Edwin Josue. Photo courtesy of Edwin Josue

Mars was not even one of them. He along with Johnny Reyes went to the University of the Philippines where both Mars and Johnny were university scholars.

The ‘70s, the era of wife swapping and weed smoking. My house in South Orange, New Jersey was sometimes where we all smoked weed. There was Mars laughing at a cracked joke. He continued laughing. And continued, and continued. I was so scared for Mars and would have helped him medically if I could. But all I could do was offer him water. After a long 10 minutes or so Mars finally stopped laughing. He must have forced himself to stop because in all probability he had developed a massive belly ache. It was also where I got so high I could not speak. I could hear everyone talking very clearly. My mind was razor sharp and I could hear every word that everyone uttered, and I wanted to join and put in my two cents, but I could not open my mouth. I was wearing a ski jacket and had my back to the wood fireplace yet I still shivered. I shivered for a long time.

Ah, those were the days. About wife swapping, none of us ever engaged in it. But we knew it was going on. There was even a bar in New York City where couples went with the goal of making out with random patrons, opposite sex patrons. I can’t remember its name, all I remember is that the people who went there were given togas that they wore as they socialized in bacchanalia.

And then there were the turbulent ‘80s. My first wife divorced me. Mars had a serious illness. Vichy Dolorico died in a fire. People Power in the Philippines. George Bunag got sick, a very serious case of COPD. He was in a coma and almost died. The La Salle Alumni Association in New York was formed. I was elected association president. We got the first Dream Game between La Salle and Ateneo basketball teams organized. Everybody who was anybody in the Filipino community (including the Consul General King Rodrigo) was there. Towards the end of my term everyone wanted to succeed me. I should not have run for reelection, but I did. Turmoil in the association.

The ‘90s. We got busy with our own careers. Mars had split from the medical partnership he had been an important partner in. Went solo as an oncologist in Christ Hospital in Jersey City and other hospitals. He got so rich he erected a mansion on a hill in Morris Plains, New Jersey. Bought a house on the shore of Lake Hopatcong, the biggest lake in New Jersey. Bought a condo on Park Avenue in New York. Traded the stethoscope for a brush and an easel. Gained fame in the U.S. and the Philippines as the Painting Doctor.

And now he’s dead. Go on, Mars, go and reap your just rewards in the after-life. You have lived a full life, a fulfilling life, a life lived for others. Mainly for his patients.

Goodbye, friend. Cora and your children miss you the most, but we all do as well.

Oncologist Marcelito Custodio passed away on November 2. He was 75. He graduated from the University of the Philippines in 1973 and completed his residency at Newark Beth Israel Medical Center. .

Cesar Lumba is a novelist, blogger and calls himself a “reluctant retiree.” He spent more than 25 years in the business world, first as a reporter for Dun & Bradstreet and later as a financial professional in various companies, such as Prudential Insurance and Pruco Securities. He lives in Las Vegas, Nevada after living in the New York metropolitan area for 30 years.

© 2017 The FilAm

One of his last public appearances was at the annual art exhibit of the Society of Philippine American Artists held October 26 at the Philippine Center. He was the SPAA president. SPAA photo