I am honored to have been asked to write a piece for the special issue magazine commemorating the 90th anniversary of the Armenian Weekly.
Upon getting the ‘assignment’ from editor Pauline Getzoyan, my first
thought was to write about my mentors. There are several. I will focus
on three: my mother Violet Merian Gavoor, Tom Vartabedian and my
great-uncle Rouben Gavoor.
When I was young, we had a school
assignment (or it might have been a cub scout project — that part of the
memory being a bit fuzzy) to create a coat of arms. My mother helped
me. We began with a shield that, not surprisingly, was in the shape of
the Armenian Youth Federation (AYF) logo. There were three horizontal
stripes, which were (again, not much of a surprise) red, blue and
orange. In the shield, we had a feathered quill and a shovel crossing in
an x-shape — clearly an homage to the Armenian Revolutionary Federation
(ARF) zinanishan.
The pen represented our family’s dedication to education and writing
and the shovel to the family’s farming history. Beyond these features, I
do not recall what else we had on the coat of arms and, sadly, we did
not save it.
While I appreciated the agrarian
heritage of the family, I was more fascinated with the pen and the
thirst for knowledge. My mother emphasized these things to motivate me
in my own schooling, but also to carry forth and keep alive in me the
memory of my grandfather Aram Gavoor, who passed away in 1959 when I was
just six years old. My grandfather was an educated and well-read man.
She also evoked Aram’s youngest brother Rouben Gavoor as a man of
letters and noted writer for the Hairenik Weekly. That one small project to create a family crest made a huge impression.
Tom Vartabedian was an active mentor.
While he set a wonderful example with his column, Poor Tom’s Almanac,
and AYF Olympics coverage in the Weekly, he also actively engaged with me after I wrote a few pieces about the AYF Olympics for the newspaper. He loved my blog and encouraged me to write more, including for the Weekly.
By 2014, without any ceremony or
fanfare, Tom told a group of us that the 2014 AYF Olympics coverage was
ours: me, Bob Tutunjian, Tamar Kanarian, and later Harry Derderian and
Sona Gevorkian. It was neither a mandate nor a discussion. He simply
said, without really saying it, “It’s yours; go for it.” We did what he
asked and have continued to do so with an amazing team of writers,
photographers and editors, taking the AYF Olympics coverage from what
Jimmy Tashjian and Tommy Vartabedian started and nurtured and growing it
to the 12-page Olympics special edition and daily reporting from the
games that we have today. We are proud of our efforts and gratefully
acknowledge that we stand on the shoulders of Jimmy and Tommy. I have
personally thanked Tommy in each and every AYF Olympics Special Edition
since — here I am doing it again.
Rouben Gavoor (1907-1993) was the
youngest child of Mardiros and Mariam Khargavoorian of Keserig, one of
the villages of Kharpert. He had two brothers, Aram and Sisak, and three
sisters, Arshlouys, Markarid and Yeghsapert. I was blessed to have
known all but Markarid. He came to the United States in 1921 after
surviving the Genocide and years of slavery to a Turkish family. He
settled in Medford, Massachusetts with the family and graduated from
Medford High School in 1927. He then moved to New York and enrolled at
NYU, earning a bachelor’s degree in journalism and a master’s degree in
economics.
While in New York, Uncle Rouben met
and fell in love with Rose Marie Zorian. They married in 1936. In 1941
at the age of 36, he and Rose Marie moved to Washington, D.C., where he
joined the government’s Office of Emergency Management writing job
manuals. Uncle Rouben was in the U.S. Army from 1943 to the end of World
War II; among his clerical roles, he was also an official translator of
Turkish. After the war, he served in the Veterans Administration for a
short stint until he began his career with the State Department, from
which he retired in 1968.
While Uncle Rouben spoke about
various aspects of his life in our discussions, it was his time in the
Foreign Service that was his proudest. He worked in U.S. embassies as a
budget and fiscal officer and deputy controller, serving in Belgrade,
Yugoslavia, Kathmandu, Nepal, Khartoum, Sudan and Addis-Ababa, Ethiopia.
Wherever his travels took him, he sought out the local Armenian
community, if there was one, and made lifelong friendships that he
maintained through correspondence (back then, letter writing was the
primary means of keeping in touch with your friends who didn’t live in
the same city).
I dove into the Armenian Weekly
archives looking for articles Uncle Rouben penned or was mentioned in. I
spent two full days on this endeavor, simply because the archives
are a treasure trove of memories and the history of Armenians in the
United States. Easily diverted by many of the articles, I was also a bit
embarrassed by the number of articles I did not read but felt I should
have. Even more so, I was fascinated with the issues of the Weekly published before I even knew how to read and before I was born.
I discovered facts, tidbits and
anecdotes about family, friends and acquaintances of which I was
unaware. A prime example is Uncle Rouben’s first article in the Hairenik Weekly, “ARMENIAN Cultural Meeting.” The article was in the third issue of the Weekly, Volume 1., No. 3, published on March 15, 1934, which was coincidentally Uncle Rouben’s 27th birthday! The byline read Reuben
Gavoor — the spelling of his name alternated from Rouben to Reuben in
that first year. The article covered a joint meeting of the Armenian
Students Association and the Armenian Scientific Association of America
in New York City on March 3, 1934 at Roerich Museum near Columbia
University. During the cultural part of the program, the Armenian Holy
Cross Church choir performed, Hovhan Garabedian gave a lecture on
Armenian culture, Marie Arakian sang four folk songs and Ardemis Darson
recited Alishan and Toumanian in Armenian and English. The highlight of
the evening, from my 2024 perspective, was the Honorable “Henry
Morgenthau, former ambassador to Turkey, and the father of the present
Secretary of Treasury of the United States, Henry Morgenthau, Jr.” What
an amazing guest of honor to have at such an event.
Mr. Morgenthau declared,
after motioning to stop the applause of the enthusiastic audience… that
“the Armenians in Turkey passed a critical period in the hands of the
bloodthirsty Turks.” They thought they could succeed in their objective,
but they failed to understand that “you can kill material things, but
you cannot kill spiritual things.” He concluded his short impromptu talk
by suggesting that Armenians should cooperate with the Americans in
order to contribute their share of culture to the great future of the
United States.
Uncle Rouben was very active in the Weekly from
its inception through the 1980s, from writing articles to letters to
the editor. I am not certain how many articles he wrote, but I keep
finding more articles and mentions of him with each search through the
archives. Many of his early articles related to cultural events in New
York, mostly recitals. In the 1940s, he wrote many of his articles in a
column called, “As I See It.” It often appeared on the same page as
Levon Keshishian’s “This and That from New York.” It must be noted that
Keshishian’s column is one the longest running columns in the Armenian Weekly, spanning from the 1940s to the 1980s.
As the years passed, it was
inevitable he would pen obituaries, memorials and tributes to those who
passed away. These included moving articles on the passing of James
Mandalian, Reuben Darbinian (October 3, 1968) and General Haig
Sherkerjian (May 12, 1966). He wrote a wonderful piece titled, “The Need
of Individual Propaganda” (March 3, 1939):
It has often been said
that this is the age of miracles; but it is near the truth that this is
an age of great contrast — contrast of religious, economic, political
and social ideologies. Each ideological group is applying propaganda to
advance its basic philosophy upon the outside group.
In this opening paragraph, he wrote
in 1939 about being on the brink of a second world war. It could easily
apply to the world in 2024. In this article, Uncle Rouben wrote about
the need for Armenians to be more organized and advocate for our
position and goals using the power of positive, truthful propaganda. His
message was ahead of its time. It wasn’t until the 1960s, when we had
educated ourselves and become established enough in the U.S., that we
would raise the Armenian question again beginning with the 50th
anniversary commemoration of the 1915 Genocide.
In the 1960s and 70s, he began a column called, “As They Saw it.” It appeared regularly in the Weekly and
included quotes from famous writers, scientists, historians and
politicians, both Armenian and otherwise. The love of and fascination
with quotations is a thread that has been present in the Weekly since
its first issue. Uncle Bozo had a column from the very first issue
titled “Facts and Fancies” and later called “Mostly Hai-Lites.” Uncle
Rouben’s “As They Saw It” began as Uncle Bozo’s was winding down. “From
Uncle Garabed’s Notebook” took over from Uncle Rouben. I wonder who will
be next to create a similar column?
“Mostly Hai-Lites” April 4, 1945
A man is like a lamp wick — trimmed a lot of times before he gets the right flame. ~ Yeoman First Class Edward “Zombie” Apkarian
“As They Saw It” March 12, 1970
The highest compact we can make with our fellows is: “Let there be more truth between us forevermore.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
“From Uncle Garabed’s Notebook” December 30, 1995
Talent is nurtured in solitude — character is formed in stormy billows of the world. ~ Goethe
One short piece by Uncle Rouben really moved me. It was published in the September 9, 1939 Hairenik Weekly. It was a story from his childhood that he never told me, but I’m happy that he did tell it in the Weekly. I love it on so many levels. Here is “A reminiscence With Murad:”
One sunny afternoon in
the early part of autumn, a man walked into our home to witness a
strange scene. It was Murad, and the strange scene was that of two
little boys beating a black cat, which had been hung from a rope by its
hind legs.
While my brother and I busily engaged
in disciplining our neighbor’s cat, suddenly we heard a hearty
laughter. My brother and I immediately turned our heads towards the
directions whence the laughter came, and there was a strange man
standing and gazing at us with his sharp dark eyes. Without making any
inquiry as to who the stranger was, and why he was laughing, my brother
answered:
“This cat caused us lots of damage, and she deserves such a punishment.”
“Why?”
“Because this cat has been eating our Khavoorma! That’s why!” I uttered triumphantly.
“Why punish the cat?” he gently spoke. “Let her go.”
He uttered his words in such an effective manner that we obeyed him without making any further comments.
Most Armenians revere Murad, the
Armenian General, for his bravery, and how he unselfishly gave his life
to free the Armenians from the claws of the Turks; but I shall always
associate him with the foregoing little incident which took place in my
house a quarter century ago.
I love to write these kinds of
reminiscences. I wish I had these kinds of stories to tell. I love to
read stories that give us glimpses of life before the Genocide. What was
the year of this story? What was Murad doing visiting our family home
in Keserig? Was the visit social or party-related? Was he there to see
my great-grandfather or my grandfather? I can only guess.
Was Uncle Rouben a passive mentor as I stated earlier? I believe he was. He never told me to write for the Weekly.
He showed me and led me to it by example. But don’t take my word for
it. Here is what Tom Vartabedian noted in “A tribute to Rouben Gavoor”
in the January 23, 1993 Armenian Weekly a week after Uncle Rouben’s passing:
He made no effort to mold
us into patterns that would have been uncomfortable and artificial. He
took us for what we were and who we were, and without saying a word,
nevertheless, declared loudly that if we cared about the homeland, we
were welcome to march at his side.
I could not have stated it any better.
Thank you, Mom, Tommy and Uncle Rouben.
Thank you to all the editors, writers, copy and layout editors who have worked to make the Weekly such a wonderful paper for 90 years. I am delighted and honored to be part of this amazing heritage.
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This piece was first published in The Armenian Weekly.
