The Old Claflin School . . .

And speaking of Miss Forsythe (see yesterday's blogpost) brings to mind the way in which kids at Claflin (Elementary) School responded to taunts from their classmates, insults which were always only a moment away . . .  One such example follows.

When a kid heard the words, "You're a jerk!" . . . her answer, accompanied by a grin, would be as follows:

                        "A jerk is a pull, a pull is a yank, and a Yank is a good American!"

But an easier reply would have been, (and often was), "It takes one to know one!"

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, MOMMY AND DADDY!!!!

Marash Girl loves her mommy and daddy so much, but they are no longer with her . . . as both her mommy and daddy were angelic, each in his or her own special way, they have joined the angels in heaven. Marash Girl remembers her dad laughing as he told her the following tale. Peter's Marashtsi Friend: So, Peter, I hear you are getting married. Are you marrying a Marashtsi or an odar? Peter: I'm marrying an odar! Marashtsi Friend: Is she Italiatsi?(Italian?) Peter: Nope! Peter's Marashtsi Friend: Irrish? (spoken with a heavily rolled r) Peter: Nope! Peter's Marashtsi Friend: Eengleesh? (spoken with heavy Armenian accent) Peter's Marashtsi Friend: Vell, who you marrying? Peter: Ainteptsi! At which point Peter's Marashtsi friend started laughing and pushing Peter, recognizing that Peter had been teasing all along. Of course, Peter was marrying Jennie (Lucille Mae), the love of his life who was born and brought up in Cambridge, Massachusetts, the beautiful younger daughter of Antepsi Armenian parents, Yester Bosnian and Garabed Vartanian of Aintab or Antep (the city known today as Gaziantep), both of Jennie's Antepsi Armenian parents having escaped the Armenian Genocide by fleeing Turkey and arriving safely in the United States of America early in the 20th Century. (More on Peter's parents escape of the genocide of the Armenian people in future blogs. Stay tuned!) And although very few folks had been invited to the wedding, as there was very little para in those days for a young couple to feed a large gathering, so many folks arrived at the Armenian Brethren Church in Watertown, Massachusetts, to witness Peter and Jennie's wedding, that the couple had to change the venue of the wedding service at the last moment, moving the minister, themselves, and all in attendance from the Armenian Brethren Church in Watertown, Massachusetts, to the Western Avenue Baptist Church in Cambridge, Massachusetts, a church large enough to accommodate the crowds that had gathered to witness the marriage of the young couple that was so adored by all! Note 1: odar (pronounced with a heavily rolled r) is the Armenian word for foreigner. Note 2: In the old days, and even today (as evidenced by the title of this blog), folks of Armenian origin self identified by the name of the city from which they hailed in the old country! For example, if they came from Aintep, they were known as Ainteptsis; if they came from Marash, they were known as Marashtsis! Get it?

Santa Sends Greetings From "The Lake"!

Christmas Display at Coletti-Magni Park

Photo by MarashGirl©2021

Flowers Fearless In The Face Of The Coming Frost!

Photo by MarashGirl©2021

And Throughout The Countryside, Scarecrows Preside!

Photo by MarashGirl©2021

PUMPKINS GALORE At A FARM IN SHERBORN, MASSACHUSETTS!

Photo by MarashGirl©2021

PLEASE!!! NO GUNS IN NEWTON!!!!

Dear Mayor Fuller: I am not a resident of Newton. I don't even live in Massachusetts. I am the daughter and granddaughter of a Newtonian family that made its home on Lowell Avenue after the Great Depression. Every summer, my parents would fly our whole family to Logan where we were met by my grandparents, Peter and Jennie. We spent whole summers playing in their yard, mixing it up across the street in an open lot, and walking to Bullough's Pond. As a special treat, we'd take the T to Fenway and root for the Red Sox! The house was down the road from Newton High (now Newton North) - go Tigers! I'm writing about these events because my Newtonville-dwelling aunt informed me of a gun shop - one of many, apparently - that is in process of hanging up its shingle. I can't imagine the Newton/Newtonville of my youth with a gun shop in it. And this is why: We walked as kids, unaccompanied down the streets without fear. We passed Newton North all the time, without fear. We walked to the T and entered Fenway without fear. We ran back and forth from the library to check out books and movies without fear. I understand that there are many people who regard gun ownership as a sacred right. I understand the need of some to possess firearms (the ranchers in my community all have rifles, and often use them against pests to their hens and cattle). But I'm wondering what use a gun shop would be in suburban Newton/Newtonville? As I recall, my lovely childhood summers were spent in a town home to families; schools; civic, cultural, and community centers. We now have three living generations among my Newtonian family. I ask that you and your governmental colleagues do your best to protect against the gun violence that is raging throughout our country. Step one in that battle is disarming the perpetrators. No one can shoot without an easily accessible firearm. Please say no to gun violence; say no to gun shops in Newton! Thank you for heeding my letter, Mayor Fuller. Sincerely, Alison Sykes Graeagle, CA

Stop the Imminent Opening of a Gun Shop in Newtonville, a Village in Newton, Massachusetts!

Do we really want a shop selling weapons -- guns that can shoot real bullets -- guns that can shoot bullets that kill -- Do we want such a shop opening on Washington Street in Newtonville, just a short bike ride from Underwood Elementary School, Bigelow Junior High School, close to F.A.Day Junior High School, and Newton North High School, and a ten minute walk from the border between Newton and Boston. . . or a gun shop located anywhere in Newton, Massachusetts, for that matter! Please call Massachusetts City of Newton Mayor Fuller’s office at (617) ‭‭‭796-1000 or email Mayor Fuller at rfuller@newtonma.gov, ‭‭‭objecting to the imminent opening of gun shop in Newton Corner (or, as stated above, anywhere in Newton, Massachusetts! Julie M. Cohen, Wicked Local, Newton Tab, April 2021, writes the following -- "Yes. A gun shop could open in Newton near the marijuana dispensary on Washington Street in Newton Corner. And very soon. "With a gun shop aiming to open on Washington Street, city councilors and upset residents are taking parallel steps to prevent this from happening. "There are currently no restrictions on where a gun store can be located in Newton, according to the city ordinances. There were firearm shops in the city in the past, including one in West Newton." Please protect our children, our families, our homes, our city! Again . . . Whether or not you live in Newton, have lived in Newton, hope to live in Newton, have friends and family who live in Newton, please call Mayor Fuller’s office at (617) ‭‭‭796-1000 or email Mayor Fuller at rfuller@newtonma.gov ‭‭‭ Don’t delay! It could mean our . . . . (I’m sure you can fill in the blanks!)

Fishing on Neponset Lake in Foxborough, Massachusetts

Often, on Sunday afternoons, Marash Girl's father Peter would drive to Heaton's Marina in Foxborough, Massachusetts, to spend a relaxing hour or two, fishing on Neponset Lake. . . he would often invite Marash Girl to join him . . . Why Marash Girl? Because she knew that fish (and her father with his fly rod) were alert to sound and motion, and thus she knew to keep still (both verbally and physically) while fishing from the flat-bottomed wooden rowboat on Neponset Lake in Foxborough, Massachusetts, all those many years ago . . . that is, if she hoped that a fish would be lured to the worm on her hook or to her father's red devil fishing lure!

Marash Girl Paused For The Cows To Cross Waltham Street

"One day left from the old days?" So Marash Girl thought as she would stop during her commute from suburban Newton to Lexington High School . . . stop to let the farmer and his cows cross from the field on the eastern side of Waltham Street to the field on the western side of Waltham Street. As her father would be commenting, were he still here with us, "Those days are gone . . . forever!"

Remembering Henry and Rose (Bezjian) Nofal

When Marash Girl began thinking about summer, especially summers along the North Shore of Massachusetts, summers on the shores of her favorite summer island, Plum Island, she remembered the following. Many years ago, when Henry and Rose (Bezjian) Nofal were visiting Marash Girl's family in Newtonville, Massachusetts, (the Nofals had driven all the way from Troy, New York,) Marash Girl's father decided to surprise his children (Marash Girl and her siblings) and Henry and Rose Nofal with a trip to Plum Island, an island off the North Shore (of Massachusetts). Living in Troy, New York, they rarely had the opportunity of experience the Atlantic Ocean! Arriving at Plum Island (Newburyport, Massachusetts) after driving north for one and a half hours, the Marash Girl's father and his family decided to take their guests for a leisurly walk along the shore of the Atlantic Ocean. Enjoying the warmth of the sun and the music of the surf, they suddenly heard the screams of a swimmer . . . a swimmer who had been caught in the notorious surf undertow of Plum Island. Without hesitation, both Henry and Rose dove into the surf and rescued that swimmer, bringing him safely back to shore. What a wonderful and courageous couple they were! Marash Girl misses those summers on Plum Island and she so misses you, Henry and Rose!!!

Note on Mummy and Daddy's Wedding: Blog post for January 15 & January 16, 2021

January 15, 2021 Jennie (from an Aintepsi family) and Peter (from a Marashtsi family) were to get married at the Armenian Brethren Church in Watertown, Massachusetts, but on the day of the wedding, so many of the Aintepsis in the Boston community and so many of the Marashtsis in the Boston community showed up for the wedding that just before the wedding was to take place, the couple had to change the venue of the wedding. All of the guests, (both invited and uninvited), the minister, and the couple to be wedded had to drive to the Baptist Church on Western Avenue in Cambridge, Massachusetts, a church large enough to contain the hundreds(?) of guests who had arrived to celebrate the couple's union. To the best of our knowledge, the minister that married Jennie and Peter on January 15 of 1940 was Reverend Stengaard. Blog post for January 16, 2021 "A Note on Mummy and Daddy's Wedding" Jennie (from an Aintepsi family) and Peter (from a Marashtsi family) were to get married at the Armenian Brethren Church in Watertown, Massachusetts, but on the day of the wedding, so many of the Aintepsis in the Boston community and so many of the Marashtsis in the Boston community showed up for the wedding that just before the wedding was to take place, the couple had to change the venue of the wedding. All of the guests, (both invited and uninvited), the minister, and the couple to be wedded had to drive to the Baptist Church on Western Avenue in Cambridge, Massachusetts, a church large enough to contain the hundreds(?) of guests who had arrived to celebrate the couple's union. To the best of our knowledge, the minister that married Jennie and Peter on January 15 of 1940 was Reverend Stengaard.

Attending Live Performances with Mummy and Daddy

Whenever Marash Girl's family attended a live performance, whether theatrical or musical, whether amateur or professional, while awaiting the rise of the curtain, Marash Girl's mother, Mummy, would always scan the list of performers, looking for the names that ended in "...ian", and upon finding those names . . . those Armenian names . . . Mummy would beam, grinning from ear to ear, so proud that Armenians were a part of the performance . . . so proud to be Armenian!

The Music of Her Childhood

Falling asleep last night, Marash Girl remembered the music of her childhood, the clicking roll of the dice, the slam of the backgammon (tavlu) pieces (black though slightly worn, or cream colored, depending on the players' preference), the rhythms that nightly rocked her into slumber. "Juarah du!" "Du shesh!" "Du barah!" "Shesh besh!" The memory, albeit everpresent, was brought to the fore by Marash Girl's reading of the book of poetry now in print for the first time: FIRST GENERATION, Poetic Memories, written by Krikor Der Hohannesian, published by Dos Madres Press.

A must read, from Marash Girl's perspective. To order a signed copy of FIRST GENERATION, Krikor Der Hohannesian's newly published book of poetry, email the poet at krikorndh@verizon.net or order from the poet at the address below: Krikor N. Der Hohannesian 31 Boston Avenue Medford, MA 02155-6721 The cost of the book is $22.00 which includes shipping and handling. Enjoy!

TO MAYOR OF NEWTON RUTHANN FULLER: Please Use An Alternative Approach to Protect Historic Bullough's Pond Dam and the Laundry Brook Forest

          Dear Mayor Fuller, 

          I am writing to you as a long time resident of Newton, Massachusetts.  

As a little girl, I learned to skate on Bullough’s Pond.  

As an adult, I learned to appreciate the beauty of Bullough’s Pond and the Laundry Brook Forest. 

As a former voting member of Newton Parks and Recreation, I am writing to ask the powers that be to consider using an alternative approach that will protect Bullough’s Pond Dam and the Laundry Brook Forest. 

PLEASE DO NOT clear cut the banks of Bullough’s Pond  and put in gravel on the side of Dexter Road!!! '

          Sincerely,

          Bethel Bilezikian Charkoudian 

AP Chemistry and Anti-Semitism in Newton High School in the !950's

Teacher JCH (addressing the brightest kid in the room) asked Abe to stand up in Marash Girl's high school AP Chemistry class, and for no apparent reason,laced into him. "You and your people . . . " he began. And continued in a diatribe, the details of which Marash Girl prefers not to remember. Marash Girl, unable to tolerate the anti-Semitism, stood up and addressed the teacher. "You can't talk to him like that!" she exclaimed. The bell rang. The members of the class, with no comment, headed out to the hall so as not to be late for their next class. Two weeks later, report cards were issued. Marash Girl had averaged straight A's in that chemistry class, but that's not the letter of the alphabet that appeared on her report card. Can't imagine why!!!

Mugsy and the 5&10

When Marash Girl first arrived in 7th Grade, she sat (in homeroom) to the right of Mugsy, a tall, muscular boy with flaming red hair combed into a D/A, a boy who was 16 years old in a classroom of students who had just turned 13. Every day, in order to win the approval of his classmates, Mugsy would carry into homeroom a small trove of treasures that he had stolen from the 5&10, treasures which he would proceed to pass out to the kids in homeroom. When he attempted to foist his loot on Marash Girl, she would politely refused the stolen items. Apparently embarrassed by her refusal, Mugsy would gesticulate and loudly proclaim to all the students around him that Marash Girl felt that she was too good to accept his "treasures"! Marash Girl had no response. She just sat quietly in her seat, awaiting the bell that would signal peermission for her to escape to her first class.

Remembering Mommy's Lilacs

                                                                                                 Photo by Marash Girl
                                           Remembering Mommy Jennie Bilezikian's Lilacs
                                                     

Jennie (née Lucille Mae Vartanian) Bilezikian, better known as Mommy to Marash Girl, loved lilacs, especially the lilacs that were on the lilac bush in front of our house on Lowell Avenue in Newtonville.  As soon as they were in bloom, she would carefully cut them from the bush . . .  (she knew that if she didn't cut the blooms, they would not return the following year, or if they did return, they would return in far smaller numbers. . . ) and gathering them into her arms, carry them into the house.  With great joy she put them into vases which she arranged throughout the living room and dining room.  The wonderful aroma of lilacs filled the house for days.  Marash Girl misses those days, the lilacs, but especially her Mommy!

From Marash, Eastern Anatolia, to Brighton, Massachusetts

Bedros arrived home crying, covered with bruises and a few bloody spots as well.  

"Ne oldu?" (what happened?) asked his father Moses.

Bedros told the story of how the Brighton boys tried to talk to him but when he couldn't answer in English, they beat him up.

"Neh etdin?" ("What did you do?") asked his father.

"Hiç bir şey değil," ("Nothing!") answered Bedros.

"The next time you come home beaten up like this and you haven't given the boys better than they gave you, I'll give you a worse beating."

Bedros soon became one of the Brighton boys, thanks to his father's advice!

"Good Enough For The Poor People!"

Every time anyone in the house would complain about anything, suggesting that what was happening, or what was a part of daily life, was not good enough, Peter would say, somewhat ironically, "Good enough for the poor people!"  Which he once was!  In fact, growing up in North Brighton in a three story walkup, during the Great Depression, he would see drunks happily hanging on to the lamp posts.  His conclusion?  "When I grow up, I want to be a drunk!"