He was born in Havana, Cuba, and its most difficult problem was not a mathematical operation, but Fidel Castro’s revolution. That was the only unfinished equation of the creator of Algebra de Baldor, a quiet lawyer and mathematician who is locked up for long hours in his room, armed only with pencil and paper, to write a text that terrifies and passionate since 1941 to millions of students from throughout Latin America. Algebra de Baldor, even more than Don Quixote de la Mancha, is the most consulted book in schools and schools from Tijuana to Patagonia. Scary for some, mysterious for others and definitely indecipherable for teenagers that they try to solve their sundries at wee hours of the morning, it is a text that remains at the head of three generations who ignore that its author, Angel Aurelio Baldor, is not the terrible Arab man who notes with disdain calculated its frightened students, but the youngest son of Gertrude and Daniel, born on October 22, 1906 in Havana, and bearer of a surname which means Valley of gold and who traveled from Belgium to Cuba without touching the land of Scheherazade. Baldor, the large Daniel Baldor resides in Miami and is the third of the seven children of the famous mathematician. Investor, consultant and finance, Daniel man lived with his parents, six siblings and selfless black nanny who accompanied them during more than fifty years, the drama that was wroth with the family in the days of Fidel Castro’s revolution. Aurelio Baldor was the most important educator of the Cuban island during the 1940s and 1950s. He was founder and director of the Baldor school, an institution that had 3,500 students and 32 buses Street 23 and 4, in the exclusive residential area of Vedado. A quiet and huge, man in love of teaching and of my mother, who today survives him, and that he spent the day devising mathematical puzzles and games with numbers, recalls Daniel, and evokes her father walking with his 100 kilos of weight and his proverbial height of a meter with ninety-five centimeters in the corridors of the school, always with a cigarette in your mouthreciting phrases Marti and with his algebra under the arm, that time, rather than the portrait of intimidating Arab Sage, wore a sober red cover.