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From “Those Days” to These: Memories stay fresh and painful
From “Those Days” to These: Memories stay fresh and painful
The steps are slow but firm; clothes are tidy, manners polite.
It is the 57th spring the eldest and the most respected professor Gevorg Melikyan walks in the corridors of the Agricultural Academy where the faculty treats him with reverence, the students with interest.
“Several episodes have remained unforgettable in my memories,”
In Melikyan’s memories swirl a carefree childhood with caring parents, a big house and a comfortable living that disappeared in a moment bringing deprivation and suffering.
Melikyan is among those few remaining who have survived the Genocide, who has witnessed refuge and violence.
The professor is not only an instructor in matters of agriculture, but a walking history.
Gevorg Melikyan was born in 1913 in Igdir. These years later while telling about the Genocide and the events of those years he stares into the distance and returns to the past with every word.
“When we took the hard path of refuge together with our relatives and neighbors I was five years old,” remembers the professor. “Several episodes have left unforgettable imprints in my childhood memories that wind in my mind like a film. My grandfather was a priest, my grandma didn’t want to talk about leaving, and the day we were to prepare for refuge my grandma had a heart attack.
“We had a big house, my parents used to run a shop in Igdir. We learned we must run away in the night. Our house had two doors. My father carefully locked the back door and approached the main one closing it with such movements as if we planned to return there in two days.”
Sharing the burden of years one after another, the elderly man puts his hands together and reminds that the Genocide was the detailed plan of the Turkish authorities to annihilate Armenians.
“Several episodes have remained unforgettable in my memories,” he says. “A street was full of passing people – with carts, horses, camels. People had taken with them whatever they managed to take, mainly small bundles, people had little time and were trying to escape. It was a true mess; many lost their relatives, children on the road. I can vividly remember we passed kilometers of people walking. Part of them came to Eastern Armenian, another part tried to find refuge in the Arab world or fled to Europe. People said we would be safe as soon as we crossed the river Arax, but few succeeded.”
“ . . . memories that wind in my mind like a film.”
Getting over the river was not a guarantee of things getting easier.
Melikyan says despite the hardships they managed to reach Yerevan where there was hunger and terrible illnesses in that time.
According to him although the time was very difficult the Armenians were strong enough to continue their lives, create families and tried to succeed. The professor, who has been awarded with “Anania Shirakatsi” and National Academy of Sciences Golden Medals, has two sons and four grandchildren.
“We had numerous relatives who lived in villages, all of them were massacred, we found none,” he says. “Many children were lost, the majority of families suffered loss. The people were doomed to sufferings, persecutions and exterminated. Those are facts we can never forget.”
Death and Life Journey
Manik Hayrapetyan carefully puts bright red tulips in a jug. In this old age the flowers are her occupation.
Manik’s daughter-in-law Gayane says until recently she would get emotional hearing about “those years” and wouldn’t tell much about them.
“My grandfather came from Van,” says Gayane. “The Turks buried alive his big family and only my grandfather survived by a miracle, who then grew up in the special American orphanage in Yerevan. My mother-in-law’s story is also sad like the stories of all those who witnessed the Genocide.”
Manik Hayrapetyan was born in 1915 on the migration in search of refuge.
Manik: “My mother gave birth to me on the road . . .”
“Turks slaughtered everywhere, women and children were left and many mothers couldn’t survive the starving and suffering and left their children,” tells Manik, pointing her finger up. “Men were either in the army or killed and there were mainly women, elderly and children on the road of refuge.”
The elderly woman says she has heard the majority of stories from adults while growing up. Manik says they lived in Izmity, her father was a teacher who knew Turkish and did translations.
“We were at home when the news came that Turks were going to burn the village, people ran away any way they could. They dressed boys like girls; beautiful women’s faces were dyed with mud to escape. The road was long, we were walking,” she says. “The greater part of children died on the road unable to stand it.”
Manik is moved telling the story of her birth.
“My mother gave birth to me on the road nearby the Turkish village of Gonya, when people passed by like caravans. Knowing she could not take care of me, she left me on the road. But my 18 year old sister Armenuhi returned and saved me.
“But the Turks took away Armenuhi and we heard nothing else about her . . .”
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The steps are slow but firm; clothes are tidy, manners polite.
It is the 57th spring the eldest and the most respected professor Gevorg Melikyan walks in the corridors of the Agricultural Academy where the faculty treats him with reverence, the students with interest.
“Several episodes have remained unforgettable in my memories,”
In Melikyan’s memories swirl a carefree childhood with caring parents, a big house and a comfortable living that disappeared in a moment bringing deprivation and suffering.
Melikyan is among those few remaining who have survived the Genocide, who has witnessed refuge and violence.
The professor is not only an instructor in matters of agriculture, but a walking history.
Gevorg Melikyan was born in 1913 in Igdir. These years later while telling about the Genocide and the events of those years he stares into the distance and returns to the past with every word.
“When we took the hard path of refuge together with our relatives and neighbors I was five years old,” remembers the professor. “Several episodes have left unforgettable imprints in my childhood memories that wind in my mind like a film. My grandfather was a priest, my grandma didn’t want to talk about leaving, and the day we were to prepare for refuge my grandma had a heart attack.
“We had a big house, my parents used to run a shop in Igdir. We learned we must run away in the night. Our house had two doors. My father carefully locked the back door and approached the main one closing it with such movements as if we planned to return there in two days.”
Sharing the burden of years one after another, the elderly man puts his hands together and reminds that the Genocide was the detailed plan of the Turkish authorities to annihilate Armenians.
“Several episodes have remained unforgettable in my memories,” he says. “A street was full of passing people – with carts, horses, camels. People had taken with them whatever they managed to take, mainly small bundles, people had little time and were trying to escape. It was a true mess; many lost their relatives, children on the road. I can vividly remember we passed kilometers of people walking. Part of them came to Eastern Armenian, another part tried to find refuge in the Arab world or fled to Europe. People said we would be safe as soon as we crossed the river Arax, but few succeeded.”
“ . . . memories that wind in my mind like a film.”
Getting over the river was not a guarantee of things getting easier.
Melikyan says despite the hardships they managed to reach Yerevan where there was hunger and terrible illnesses in that time.
According to him although the time was very difficult the Armenians were strong enough to continue their lives, create families and tried to succeed. The professor, who has been awarded with “Anania Shirakatsi” and National Academy of Sciences Golden Medals, has two sons and four grandchildren.
“We had numerous relatives who lived in villages, all of them were massacred, we found none,” he says. “Many children were lost, the majority of families suffered loss. The people were doomed to sufferings, persecutions and exterminated. Those are facts we can never forget.”
Death and Life Journey
Manik Hayrapetyan carefully puts bright red tulips in a jug. In this old age the flowers are her occupation.
Manik’s daughter-in-law Gayane says until recently she would get emotional hearing about “those years” and wouldn’t tell much about them.
“My grandfather came from Van,” says Gayane. “The Turks buried alive his big family and only my grandfather survived by a miracle, who then grew up in the special American orphanage in Yerevan. My mother-in-law’s story is also sad like the stories of all those who witnessed the Genocide.”
Manik Hayrapetyan was born in 1915 on the migration in search of refuge.
Manik: “My mother gave birth to me on the road . . .”
“Turks slaughtered everywhere, women and children were left and many mothers couldn’t survive the starving and suffering and left their children,” tells Manik, pointing her finger up. “Men were either in the army or killed and there were mainly women, elderly and children on the road of refuge.”
The elderly woman says she has heard the majority of stories from adults while growing up. Manik says they lived in Izmity, her father was a teacher who knew Turkish and did translations.
“We were at home when the news came that Turks were going to burn the village, people ran away any way they could. They dressed boys like girls; beautiful women’s faces were dyed with mud to escape. The road was long, we were walking,” she says. “The greater part of children died on the road unable to stand it.”
Manik is moved telling the story of her birth.
“My mother gave birth to me on the road nearby the Turkish village of Gonya, when people passed by like caravans. Knowing she could not take care of me, she left me on the road. But my 18 year old sister Armenuhi returned and saved me.
“But the Turks took away Armenuhi and we heard nothing else about her . . .”
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