In Memoriam: David Mnatsakanian
David Mnatsakanian
Florida Armenians mourn the sudden and tragic loss of David Mnatsakanian of Boynton Beach, FL who recently passed away. He was 22 years old. We extend our deepest condolences to his family in their time of grief. We pray for the rest of his soul in peace, and ask Almighty God to grant comfort to all those who feel his loss.
Relatives and friends are invited to attend his funeral service on Wednesday, November 23rd at 12:00 pm, at St. David Armenian Church, 2300 Yamato Road, Boca Raton, FL 33431. There will be a private viewing for the family only on Wednesday at 10:30 to 11:15 am, then for friends at 11:15 am to 12:00.
Visiting hours will be held on Tuesday, November 22nd from 7:00 pm to 9:00 pm in the Quattlebaum Funeral Home, 6411 Parker Avenue, West Palm Beach. Prayer service will start at 8:00 pm.
In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions may be made to the Alex & Marie Manoogian School of St. David Armenian Apostolic Church, 2300 Yamato Road, Boca Raton, FL 33431.
Goodbye, My Friend: A Tribute to Dr. H. Martin Deranian
Dr. H. Martin Deranian
By Jack Danielian
FLArmenians Guest Columnist
It is so difficult to accept the loss of Dr. Martin Deranian. He was a close and enduring friend of mine. After 40 years of deep talk about Armenians and the Armenian Genocide, our relationship opened up difficult areas layer by layer of our inner responses to the family trauma we inherited. Over many years we began to see the true intergenerational repercussions of Genocide. Martin, my friend, you never gave up on yourself or on me. How can I thank you?
Martin and I had many commonalities in our personalities and our cultural backgrounds. We were both products of proud residents of Hussenig, people who had deep roots in their soil and treasured their village life. The following (Deranian, 1994) are an Elegy and Lamentation by Hussenig survivors:
An Elegy
Alas, my beautiful village is now in ruins,
And I am deprived of seeing it ever again.
I have shouldered the burden of old age,
As I sit beneath the sky of a foreign land,
I sing your praises each day with gladness.
I only wish I had a handful of your soil.
A Lamentation
I remember thee day and night.
I will give all that I have for the sight of your mountains.
There is no other place like it anywhere in the world.
Hussenig is the name of my birthplace.
I do not have a precious gift to offer thee,
Except to keep your glorious memory alive in me.
These memories drawn from an abyss speak to an incalculable loss. The abyss could not be assimilated. Martin and I could do nothing but stand by and try to touch it. Yet, taking it in bit by bit we opened ourselves to the chaotic void it created for our ancestors and of course in the process exposed ourselves emotionally to the vulnerabilities laid bare. Such is the intergenerational nature of Genocide.
I have only shared with you a few treasured interactions with Martin over 40 years. But Dr. H. Martin Deranian was a true gift to all Armenians (and of course to non-Armenians) as well. He was a pioneer in his investigations of valuable Armenian history as it interacted with the Western world. He brought President Calvin Coolidge & The Armenian Orphan Rug to worldwide attention in 2013 and 2014.
(L-R): Armenian National Institute Director Dr. Rouben Adalian, Armenian Assembly of America Executive Director Bryan Ardouny, Florida Armenians Founder Taniel Koushakjian, Dr. H. Martin Deranian holding his book ‘President Calvin Coolidge & the Armenian Orphan Rug,’ Ambassador of Armenia to the U.S. Tigran Sargsyan at the official unveiling of the Armenian Orphan Rug at the White House Visitors Center, Washington, D.C. on November 18, 2014.
Martin was a courageous man. For most of us watching his ever-deepening involvement with the Armenian Genocide, his most incredible undertaking was plunging headlong into his dear mother Varter’s unfathomable suffering in Anatolia. I will not go into the suffering of Varter in this remembrance except to say that her Anatolian oppressors engaged in heartbreaking treachery to force Varter’s children to be abandoned in a dry well. Of course these were Martin’s half-siblings as well. In 1980 Dr. Deranian published in Ararat Quarterly the full harrowing tale of “The Wailing Well” and the piece was republished in 1994 by the Armenian Heritage Press.
The story of Varter also became the centerpiece of a play by Martin’s long-time friend, playwright Joyce Van Dyke, first produced by Boston Playwrights’ Theatre in association with Suffolk University. The utterly personal nature of the play is brought home by Joyce calling Dr. Deranian the “godfather of the play” and by the fact that Joyce herself is a descendant of Armenian Genocide survivors, her grandmother a witness to the massacres, and Varter’s life-validating friend.
Jack Danielian PhD, is a psychologist and psychoanalyst, and dean of the American Institute for Psychoanalysis. Dr. Danielian is a friend of FLArmenians and has given his expressed written consent to publish his tribute, which originally appeared in the Armenian Mirror Spectator.
The obituary detailing the life of Dr. H. Martin Deranian is available here.
Tom Vartabedian: My Final Column
Tom Vartabedian (Wall Street Journal)
After a courageous battle with liver cancer, longtime Armenian American journalist Tom Vartabedian passed away on November 12, 2016. His countless articles have appeared in several Armenian and non-Armenian publications spanning nearly 50 years, covering everything from community events and initiatives, to interesting individuals and their stories from both Armenia and the Armenian Diaspora. For decades, readers looked forward to his weekly “Poor Tom’s Almanac” column, which has been published for 46 consecutive years, since 1970.
Below is Vartabedian’s final column, which he wrote on Oct. 12.
The End to an Indelible Career
As the dog said when he bit his tail, “This must be the end.”
After 50 years as a writer and photographer for The Gazette, my career as a roving journalist has come to a staggering halt. In the interim, I’ve had the luxury of covering every beat possible.
My Almanac started in 1970 as a way of perhaps introducing some levity into the serious and often stoic world of journalism. Hopefully, I’ve made some small impact into your lives and perhaps an elusive smile here and there.
It was not my choice to concede but one made for me through my battle with terminal cancer. The future remained imminent, after being diagnosed eight months ago. Trust me, I gave it a good shot, hoping to turn despair into some semblance of encouragement.
My final week was spent in Nova Scotia with dear friends—a trip that was postponed once—and finally came to fruition. I shall take the good times with me to my final resting place, leaving the photos behind for others to enjoy.
The symptoms were insurmountable.
My appetite abandoned me almost entirely. Much as I tried, the sight of food made me nauseous. While others were dining on salmon and steak, the best I could do was a cracker and maybe some ice cream.
My condition weakened by the moment until finally I was counting the days to return home. It takes a good front not to alarm those around you. The last thing I would have ever wanted in a group of 50 tourists was a pity party.
Some pain and discomfort built up gradually to the point where my physical energy took an extreme hit. I was content just staying in my room with a good book but played the game. Hopefully, I left behind no telltale signs of remorse among my peers.
I have often been told by others that my career as a journalist and photographer became stagnated and stale. How untrue! Why would anybody spend a half century with one job, one paper?
My response to that comment would be, “Why not?” If you really love your work and your environment, why change? Working in the city where I have lived was a true complement. I was always there for my children and wife. Her job as a local schoolteacher ran parallel to mine.
Never a traffic jam. Not even a school bus. There’s something to be said for proximity. Even more to be said for building up a rapport with a loyal readership. I always considered Haverhill as my own personal Cheers bar. The stories simply manifested themselves on all fronts.
My association with the Armenian community here has been undeniable. Every stranger became a friend in waiting.
The wonderful years with The Gazette were also complemented by a similar passion with The Armenian Weekly and writers like William Saroyan who became my source of inspiration. I had the best of both worlds in the American and Armenian genre.
Over the last 20 years, my stories and photos made the rounds throughout other ethnic publications in the world which brought me added pleasure. My friends and associates throughout the medium stood right by me throughout these moments of turmoil. It’s the best lifeline any cancer victim can embrace.
As I get ready to take my final bow, I can only hope that God gives me just a little more time to welcome forth a photography exhibit I have opening Oct. 23 at the Armenian Museum of America in Watertown. I’ll be collaborating with another photographer named Sona (Dulgarian) Gevorkian who is truly an impeccable artist with her camera.
Our work together will reflect images of Armenia both from the Eastern and Western extremes.
The final copies of a book, “The Armenians of Merrimack Valley,” co-authored with Haverhill High’s Phil Brown, will be inscribed for charity at a dinner-dance Oct. 22 by the Armenian Friends of America.
And finally, I opted to repeat the classes on obituary-writing at our Haverhill Citizens Center the first three Mondays in November beginning at 1 pm. It’s open to the public. In the event I’m still breathing, I will have fulfilled what I consider to be a long and productive life to which there have been few if any regrets.
I’ve had the pleasure of seeing a daughter inculcate a career as an editor and journalist, along with two Eagle Scout sons who have made their mark in mechanical engineering and marketing. That would not have been possible without the education they all received in our local public schools.
If I can leave you with anything, please do not take our community for granted and get the most out of it. What you do for yourself invariably dies with you. What you do for others lives on and forms legacies.
When troubles get you down, find your faith and give it a chance. It’ll be there waiting for you.
Tom Vartabedian is a retired journalist with the Haverhill Gazette, where he spent 40 years as an award-winning writer and photographer. He has volunteered his services for the past 46 years as a columnist and correspondent with the Armenian Weekly.
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