When Diego was just a child, his parents migrated from Columbia to the United States. In the 1850s, they headed north west during the great gold rush to try their luck. Unfortunately, it didn’t end well. His father's land was bare. Still, he kept digging along with his older sons while their mother tended to the younger kids. A mine collapse robbed them of all hope. His father and eldest brother died immediately. His other two brothers called out for help - a line of men chipped in, pulling rock away and passing it down the line. Even at the age of seven, Diego helped. By the time they cleared enough rock away, his older brothers were all dead.

He had to grow up quickly. His mother took him and his younger sister to Nevada and settled where she could find work as a seamstress. He found work washing dishes at a saloon. He learned a lot about the business and quickly made himself indispensable. By the time he was in his twenties, he was helping to run the place. When his boss grew too old to work, he left the establishment to Diego and retired out East.

In the following two decades he built his business up, married and even joined the town council. He built a second floor to his saloon so he and his wife could live above it. His late mother would have been proud of who he had become.

Snowfall was early and heavy in December 1889, and Nevada stockmen were jubilant at the end of a long dry spell. The snow continued to fall, and by mid-January train service at all Nevada points came to a standstill. From Wyoming west, the country was in the grip of a disastrous winter. Livestock starved and froze. Trains were stalled. A herd of wild horses huddled together and were frozen in their tracks near Virginia City. Cattle losses on the ranches were at 50 percent. A band of 400 sheep froze in one night in the Reese River Valley. Antelope bands starved near Wells, Nevada, and in Reno the temperature dropped to -42 degrees.

Food and goods became hard to come by, making people desperate. One night his saloon was robbed by masked men. They took all their food supplies, booze and anything that wasn’t nailed down. Diego didn’t put up a fight - he was vastly outnumbered and just wanted them to go without hurting anyone. He told his wife to remain hidden upstairs and tried his best to hurry them along. Alcohol and bad decisions went hand and hand, and the men forced all the patrons and Diego outside at gunpoint. That was when, much to his horror, one of the men intentionally tossed a lantern inside the saloon.

The wood building went up quickly. He screamed to the townsfolk that his wife was inside but everyone was too scared to go after her. Her screams filled the air as the bandits held him back. Realizing what they had done - escalating from robbery to murder, the men swiftly left town but not before Diego ran back inside for her.

In the morning, the townsmen found the charred remains of his wife but were shocked to find Diego somehow alive and completely untouched by flames. His skin was unscathed and he appeared to have just woken up and could not explain it himself.

The local Marshall sent word for back up from the state to help find the murderers. Diego, however, went looking as well. A senior Marshall, Joshua Garrett, arrived with several men and began to follow the trail. The bandits were sloppy and Joshua was like a bloodhound. He found them in less than a day, and just in time as Diego had found them as well. Diego, however, didn't have back up and the men had beaten him near to death and tied him to the back of a horse.

Joshua and his posse killed six of the men in a shoot out and took the two that were smart enough to surrender into custody. Once his men were busy with the arrests, Joshua insisted on seeing to the wounded Diego alone. Only Diego's pride remained wounded - under the blood and mud that marred his body and face, not a single scratch was left. He couldn’t explain it, but Joshua took the time to tell him that he was just like him. The problem was no one had told Joshua yet what any of it meant. The only thing in common they had was their deaths were born out of an attempt to defend someone else - a wife. Both men could only assume it was God’s will. Joshua advised him to act wounded and refuse all medical care even after they returned to town.

The Marshall couldn’t stay long in town to help Diego figure it out. He had his own work to tend to but he stayed for a few days left the man in far better shape then he’d found him.

There was nothing left for Diego in Nevada but bad memories so Diego headed east for the turn of the century. He worked in the booming factories as the industrial era ushered in change. He worked hard and fought hard to make ends meet but due to his race, he wasn’t taken seriously as a business man in the 1920's. It wasn’t like the free territories anymore. The more he tried to lead an honest life, the more the world turned its back on him. He was left with little choice but to steal or lie to get ahead. He tried to pass for white whenever he could and made great efforts to lose his accent. Diego started working at an underground gambling den and speakeasy. It reminded him of the saloon, but was different enough that the memories of the life had, didn't haunt him. He took lovers, female and male, but never let himself fall in love again.

By the 1940s, he was knee deep in organized crime which led him back to Nevada, this time to the city of Las Vegas. The legalization of booze had made their speakeasy less profitable and the people he worked with headed west. He'd tagged along because the money was too good. He tried to save up and build up enough to get out of the world of crime, but it was harder than he expected. Going straight wasn't exactly smiled upon and he knew he couldn't exactly run for it... not with the type of people he'd fallen in with.

The 1980s ushered in a time when moving drugs from South America was very lucrative and being fluent in Spanish was extremely helpful. It was the first time he found his original accent welcomed. The amount of money he was raking in was hard to walk away from and somehow, years went past and all hopes of going straight faded. He was a king in Vegas and so, he never left.

The flu hit and like the other immortals in Vegas, he just stood back and watched it happen. Mass chaos and zero profit. The world had gone to shit until Flagg showed up. And with him came dreams - one of Flagg and one of an old woman. Diego made it a point to get on Flagg's good side early on and Flagg had asked him to keep a low profile. No visiting the MGM, no public outings - Flagg had a plan for him. It seemed like a good position to be in so Diego agreed - he knew who was in charge here and it was best to make a life where he could. It was August before Flagg finally came to him with his special mission.