A sparkling piece of exquisite jewelry catches many eyes.
However, Alfredo J. Molina knows the real value lies beneath the surface of any gem or metal.
The 11th-generation jeweler and founder and CEO of the celebrated Molina Fine Jewelers learned this at the ripe age of 8 from his grandfather and a crew of veteran jewelers in Chicago.
Molina relished recalling the details of how his grandfather introduced him to the tools and how to use them to perfectly flatten out a penny to make it malleable enough to be molded into any shape. Here, Molina learned the science of how time and pressure, when executed to perfection, would yield a treasure.
“Pennies have copper, and copper and gold are similarly malleable,” says Molina, referring to this time in the late 1960s. “My grandfather taught me how to make the metal straight and how to properly shape it to create pieces.”
Over the decades, Molina answered the calling to the craft that’s in his pedigree. His work is legendary, and the preferred pieces of the elite and everyday jewelry enthusiasts alike. He’s created historic pieces ranging from the one-of-a-kind handcrafted platinum Millennium Necklace, which is composed of 57 limited and rare Millennium diamonds with a total weight of just over 73 carats, to the Fiesta Bowl Trophy, which stands 46 inches tall, weighs more than 200 pounds, flaunting 2,400 diamonds and five shades of 18-karat gold, jewelers enamel, sterling silver, lapis, and hand-carved marble.
And in an industry full of competitors—many of them national chains churning out mass-produced wares—Molina’s boutique has maintained the exemplary level of service and detail he’s put forth since the day it opened in 1987.
The Molina family of jewelers' roots date back to 1634 in Milan, where Molina’s great-great-grandfather started working with silver and gold, which was extremely rare at the time. It wasn't a hobby; it was his trade. He was 9 or 10, not much older than Molina was when he started learning the craft.
Over the generations, the Molina family moved through Europe and Cuba, eventually settling in the United States. Molina was born in Santa Clara, Cuba.
His father’s political views clashed with the late former president of Cuba, Fidel Castro, and it cost his father his freedom. While his father was incarcerated under the Castro regime, Molina's grandfather took him to France out of concern for the rest of the family’s safety.
In 1967, after his father was released, Molina and his grandfather moved to Chicago to be with the rest of his family. This was also where he was introduced to the team of experienced jewelers who would be his first mentors.
“It was just an amazing situation working with a grandfather who was never satisfied. He always required a ‘10’ and nothing less,” Molina says.
But when he got older, working with metals and gems was the furthest thought on his career radar. Molina wanted to be a doctor, and at 21, he got a job working in a Chicago hospital near his home.
It was a time when a person’s finances determined the level of medical care they would receive or not receive. Molina often witnessed severely injured or ill patients enter the hospital only to be sent to another after it was discovered they had no money to pay for treatment.
Molina talks about a man coming in with life-threatening injuries.
The man had no way to pay and was sent away. Concerned about the man, Molina found out what hospital he was sent to and, a few hours later, called to see how he was doing. The man had passed.
This was the turning point.
“I felt that this was something I did not want to be. I wanted to help people, not send people away based on their wealth or lack thereof,” Molina says.
While pondering his next move, Molina’s uncle was retiring from the jewelry business and wanted Molina to bring him some tools from back home. Molina agreed and brought the tools from Chicago to Phoenix, where his uncle lived.
Once here, Molina not only found his new home but also found himself pulled into the family business he once tried to avoid. He worked at a jewelry shop owned by his future father-in-law before making the move to break out on his own.
Molina had $1,500 and, with two loans totaling $110,000, opened Molina Fine Jewelers at 12th Street and Missouri Avenue. It was open by appointment only because he was running the business alone.
Five years later, in 1992, Molina moved into his current location at 32nd Street and Camelback Road. He didn’t have the funds, but the old bank building was perfect. A friend loaned Molina the money to move in, and he’s been there ever since.
Today, Molina enjoys an equally rewarding personal life with his family. His eldest child, Megan Parkinson, supports the business as Molina’s executive assistant. The special part her father’s company has played in the lives of generations of customers is one she is reminded of often. Numerous times she has witnessed someone approaching her dad saying, “Mr. Molina, you sold me my engagement ring!”
“You get to be around people who are celebrating milestones. An engagement. A wedding. The birth of a child. When a woman looks at a piece of jewelry, she knows where she was, what it celebrates, and the feeling she had when she received it,” Parkinson says. “Jewelry lasts generations, and there’s always a story that goes along with each piece. It's a neat industry to be in.”
Molina capitalizes on his success by giving back. His numerous philanthropic efforts have been lauded with dozens of awards in honor of his contributions to charitable organizations.
And like the reason that sparked his decision to abandon a career in medicine, Molina’s desire to help others has been the motivation behind his business and his generosity.
“I have been very lucky. I started with nothing and had challenges like we all do. But I’ve always had the belief that we need to help people who are less fortunate,” Molina says. “It’s never been about money. It’s always been about doing the right thing for people.”