People Touch My Christmas Trees And Ask If They Are Real

The Craftsman’s Review
Stories From America’s Workshops, Farms & Front Porches
Advertisement

“People touch my Christmas trees and ask if they’re real. That took my family thirty years.” — Why a 66-year-old tree maker from Pennsylvania is letting her last trees go at a special price, before her factory closes for good.

Discarded real Christmas trees lying on the curb of a Pennsylvania street in January
Hazleton, Pennsylvania, January 2. Every year the same picture: real Christmas trees on the curb, a few weeks after they were cut.

Every year on January 2, Connie Marino drives down her street in Hazleton, Pennsylvania, and counts the Christmas trees lying on the curb. Last year she stopped counting at 140.

Each of those trees grew for seven to ten years. It stood in a living room for three or four weeks. Then it went out with the trash.

“Ten years in the ground, four weeks in the house, and then it’s garbage. I never understood why people do that to themselves every single year.”

Connie is 66. She runs Marino Tree Works, a small family business that has built artificial Christmas trees since 1958. It is not a big company. It is one brick building, one old machine and fourteen people. Connie still answers the phone herself.

Ask her what she has learned in all those years, and she doesn’t talk about her factory. She talks about what happens in your living room.

The mess nobody puts on the Christmas card

Fallen pine needles all over a carpet under a real Christmas tree
Three weeks after the tree came home. Most families are still finding needles in the carpet in July.

A real tree is lovely for about a week. Then it starts to drop. Needles in the carpet, needles in the presents, needles in your socks. The water in the stand needs topping up every day, or the tree dries out even faster.

Then there is the hauling. Tying it to the roof of the car. Dragging it through the door. Sap on your hands and on the floor. And in January, dragging it all the way back out again.

“A dry tree in a warm living room is the last thing I’d want near my grandkids. Ours are flame-retardant, and they never dry out.”

Many families have already switched to an artificial tree. But most of them made the same disappointing discovery: the tree looks fake.

Why most artificial trees look like plastic

Connie can tell a cheap artificial tree from across the room. One flat shade of green. Shiny needles that reflect the lights like a raincoat. Thin branches with the metal pole showing right through.

“A real spruce is never one green. And it never shines. That’s why the cheap ones never fool anybody.”

That is exactly the problem her family spent thirty years solving.

The needle that took thirty years to get right

Connie Marino at the branch machine in her factory, holding up a freshly made branch
The 1971 branch machine at Marino Tree Works. The family’s own needle material goes in as long green strips and comes out as branch tips, one at a time.

The Marino Five-Footer is not made from the standard needles you find in a big-box tree. Connie and her father Vince worked on their own needle material for years, in their own building, until it looked right.

  • “The Marino Needle”: The family’s own needle material, in two shades of green with a brown stem and a soft matte finish that doesn’t shine like plastic. “People touch it and ask if it’s real,” Connie says. “That took us thirty years to get right.”
  • “The 600-Tip Fill”: 600 branch tips on a five-foot tree. You can’t see the pole, and your ornaments hang where you want them, not where there’s a gap.
  • “The Fold-Flat Stand”: A steel cross stand keeps the tree steady all season. In January the legs fold in and the box slides under a bed.
  • “The Three-Step Setup”: Three sections, no tools, about ten minutes. Fluff the branches and you’re done. No car roof, no saw, no sap.

And it never drops a single needle. Not in December, not in July.

The tree people mistake for a fresh-cut spruce

The five-foot Marino tree decorated with lights and glass ornaments in a living room
Fully decorated in an ordinary living room. 600 tips, no gaps, no pole showing.

This is what a small family factory can do that a big one won’t bother with. Every tree is filled by hand and checked by hand. If the foreman can see the pole from three feet away, the tree goes back.

Connie holding up a branch of the tree to show the matte two-tone needles
Up close: two shades of green, a brown stem and the matte Marino needle. No plastic shine.
“Go ahead, touch it. Everybody does. Then they ask me where the sap is.”

One tree, twenty Christmases

Connie hanging an old glass ornament on the first Five-Footer in her front window
Connie’s own Five-Footer, built by her father in 1971. It has stood in her front window for 55 Christmases.

A real tree often costs $80 or more, every single year. A Marino Five-Footer is bought once.

Use it for ten Christmases, and that is ten real trees that stay standing in the forest. Ten trips to the tree lot you don’t have to make. Ten Januarys without dragging a dry tree to the curb.

“My father built the first one in 1971. It’s still in my front window. Fifty-five Christmases, and not one tree had to be cut for it.”

It is five feet tall, made for real living rooms: apartments, row houses, a corner of the den. Big-tree fullness, in a space that fits.

Why the last ones are going now

Connie Marino at the assembly line in her Christmas tree factory in Hazleton, Pennsylvania
Marino Tree Works, Hazleton. One brick building, fourteen people and 68 years of Christmas trees.

Here is the sad part. Last year was the best year the little factory ever had. But in three years the power bill tripled and steel doubled. Connie could have made the trees thinner and stayed open. She said no.

“These are the best Christmas trees we have ever made. They’re also the reason we have to close.”

The factory closes on December 23. 412 Five-Footers are left. Connie is selling them directly, for little more than they cost to build, so her fourteen workers get their final paychecks and a real Christmas bonus. When they are gone, there will never be another one.

While supplies last: one of the last 412 Marino Five-Footers, at Connie’s special closing price.

See the Last Trees

Check availability →

What families say about their Marino tree

Customer photo: the tree in the corner of a wood-panelled den Customer photo: a grandmother with her cat next to the tree she set up herself Customer photo: the tree with red bows in a front window Customer photo: a father and daughter next to their lit tree
Photos sent in by families who brought one home.
  • ★★★★★

    “Fuller than I expected for five feet. I couldn’t see the pole once the branches were fluffed out. It fits perfectly in the corner of our den.”

    Sharon T., Allentown, PA
  • ★★★★★

    “Set it up by myself in about ten minutes. At my age that matters. No needles on the rug, and the cat leaves it alone.”

    Dorothy K., Dayton, OH
  • ★★★★★

    “My parents had a Marino tree when I was a boy. When I read that they were closing, I ordered two, one for us and one for my daughter. It looks just like I remember.”

    Gerald M., Scranton, PA

Three questions people ask before ordering

Where can I buy a Marino Five-Footer?

Only through this page. The trees are not sold on Amazon, Temu or in any store.

How long will they be available?

Only while supplies last. The factory closes on December 23, and there are 412 trees left. When they are gone, there will be no more.

What if it’s not right for me?

You have 30 days to try it at home. If you are not happy, just send a short email and you will get your money back. No questions, no hassle.

Vince Marino built his first Five-Footer for a small living room in 1971. One of the very last ones can stand in yours this Christmas.

Check Availability

Limited stock — only 412 left before the factory closes

More from families who brought one home

  • ★★★★★

    “Two shades of green really does make it look real. My neighbor asked where I found a real tree that small and that full.”

    Joan W., Hagerstown, MD
  • ★★★★★

    “The stand is solid steel, not the flimsy kind. In January it all went back into the box and under the guest bed.”

    Ronald P., Erie, PA
  • ★★★★★

    “I bought it partly because of the story about the workers. When it arrived, I was glad I did. It’s a beautiful tree.”

    Nancy L., Wilmington, DE