Tuesday Was The Anniversary Of The Tornado That Blew Away The Cottage On Top Of Wilbraham Mountain!

Tuesday, June 1, was the anniversary of the tornado that destroyed the cottage at the top of Wilbraham Mountain! But the tornado was kind enough to leave the family its source of water . . .

Photo by Karoun Charkoudian Copyright 2021

Purslane: Nutritious, Delicious, Salvation From Starvation

Photo taken in Newton, Massachusetts by MarashGirl©2021 Above is a contemporary photo of purslane (perper in Armenian, ermerouk in Turkish). According to Marash Girl's interviews with survivors of the Ottomans'attempted genocide of the Armenian people early in the 20th century, purslane was often the only source of nutrition, nutrition that if those Armenians were "lucky", they would gather along the roadside, their only source of nutrition as they were marched out of their homes by the gendarmes of the Ottoman Empire, marched into the desert during the "death march"(see internet explanation below) . . . Today purslane (ermerouk in Turkish) is often used by Marash Girl as a vegetable to be used in salads and soups . . . both the leaves and the stems of the the plant are highly nutritious and delicious. Gardeners will welcome your gathering the purslane from among their plants, as purslane will suddently appear unbidden, particularly among the tomato plants in vegetable gardens throughout the northeast! Just be sure to remove the roots and wash the purslane plants in cool water, rinsing numerous times in order to rid the plants of any soil before chopping the purslane for soups or salads. N.B. Below taken from the internet: "Perhaps the most "classical" example of the death march was the one that occurred as part of the Armenian genocide in Ottoman Turkey (part of the fading Ottoman Empire) in 1915. The events leading up to that death march were paradigmatic of the experience of genocide victims in other places." "The death march of the Armenian population of the Ottoman Empire took place against the backdrop of the hostilities of World War I. In the spring of 1915 Ottoman rulers ordered that all Armenians be expelled from their homes in areas outside of war zones. The Armenians—men, women, and children—were then lined up and made to walk in convoys of tens of thousands toward the Syrian desert. Although the expulsions resembled deportations, the treatment of the people making the march by Turkish "guards" made it clear that a more sinister agenda was driving the march: a planned elimination of the Armenian population through a process of starvation and exhaustion. The death march was a culmination of decades of Turkish discrimination against Armenians, which had long consisted of the barring of Armenians from serving in the Turkish army, repeated executions of small groups of Armenians, and mass killings by special forces known as Teshkilâti Mahsusa—gangs of violent ex-convicts ordered by the Ottoman/Turkish government to commit murders of Armenians." N.B. Lest we forget . . . From the Internet: "June 1, Wilbraham, Massachusetts Two tornadoes hit Wilbraham on June 1, 2011, Town Administrator Robert A. Weitz says. The first was the F-3 tornado which also devastated Springfield and Monson and cut a swath through Wilbraham from Tinkham Road, south of the center of town, to Monson." And to relate this note to the above blogpost, before the tornado, Marash Girl's garden in Wilbraham was replete with wild purslane growing unbidden among the carefully planted tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, and zucchini.

A Drawer from the Past; or, What Tales An Empty Drawer Can Tell

Why does this drawer look so familiar? Where is it from? Marash Girl struggled to put the drawer in context.  It took Marash Boy to remind her of the story that the drawer told.  To prevent the then newly acquired antique Empire Bureau from being stolen from the never locked cabin, she had insisted on removing one drawer from the bureau that sat in the middle bedroom in their summer Wilbraham abode . . . a trick she had learned from her antiquing friends.  Whenever they saw a bureau on the sidewalk that they could not tote away without the help of a truck, the antique dealers would lay claim on  that abandoned antique bureau by simply removing one drawer, and taking that drawer with them, for, after all, who wants a bureau with a missing drawer?  We know now that tornados make no distinction as to whether or not a bureau has a drawer, a bedroom has a bureau, or a cottage has a bedroom . . . no distinction whatsoever, as the arms of the Wilbraham tornado, on June 1, 2011, took bureau, bedroom, cottage, and all, five years ago yesterday.

[And speaking of empty drawers, let's think about the 8 empty drawers in the desk pictured below, the desk without a top!  Not a tornado, but a family on Eldridge Street, a Newton Corner family that sold their house and emptied their garage, abandoned this desk full of empty drawers and untold tales . . . what stories those drawers must hold!]

A Drawer from the Past

The Drawer from the Past

What is this drawer doing here?  Where did it come from? asked Marash Girl.  Don't you remember? Marash Boy teased.  This was one of the top drawers in the antique bureau we bought at the Brimfield Antiques Fair.  That  mahogany grain-painted empire bureau, American, early 19th century, was in the middle bedroom in our summer cabin in Wilbraham, the bedroom Grandpa Peter slept in.  You took this drawer out of that antique dresser and brought it home, telling me that if the bureau was missing a drawer, no one would steal the bureau (or the drawer)!  And you were right!  No one stole the bureau; no one, that is, until the tornado arrived and shredded the antique dresser to bits, the dresser, and everything else in the cabin, along with the cabin itself.  The tornado didn't care that the bureau was missing a drawer. . .

NB:  The summer cabin on Wilbraham Mountain was never locked, always open for the occasional hunter who might pass by, needing shelter from the rain or snow.

Gathering Pears on Wilbraham Mountain

Post-tornado: Wilbraham Mountain, 4 years later.

The top of the mountain in Wilbraham was the place that the Charkoudian family chose as their summer country abode, a replacement for the mountain abode they had frequented in Marash, the land of their forefathers.

The little red "Radio Flyer" wagon that Marash Boy used to play with as a little boy, transplanted by the tornado. 

One of the pear trees survived the tornado!

Success!  A pear!

This year, we were hoping to poach our pears, but as it turned out, someone else beat us to it!

Note: Two pear trees were gifted to Deron and Karoun by Uncle Levon Bilezikian on the occasion of Deron's and Karoun's baptism at the St. Gregory Armenian Church in Indian Orchard, Massachusetts.  (Uncle Levon Bilezikian was born in Marash, married and brought up his family in Paris, moved to Newtonville, Massachusetts in the early 1960's.)  One of those pear trees, the pear tree in the 2 photos above, survived the tornado!

The one you give away survives

This past week, with the Oklahoma tornado dominating the news, and the June 2011 Wilbraham tornado dominating Marash Girl's thoughts, Marash Girl received a gift in the mail, a gift which had been shipped before the tornadoes dominated the news, a gift which included the following note:

Handblown miniature glass pitcher with pontil mark, circa 1930

"I came across this miniature vase that you sent me years ago from your summer home in Wilbraham.  I wanted you to have it.  I am reminded of the story you told me once about the tiles you bought in Jerusalem . . . how they all broke, but the one that you gave away survived!  This is the little survivor of the house that blew away -- "

Tornado tears . . .

Marash Boy has an uncanny sense of weather, a sense that he learned growing up summers in Wilbraham, on top of Wilbraham Mountain.  Yesterday, he raised his head and sniffed the wind.  "With all the news about the tornado devastation in Moore, Oklahoma, I can't help but be reminded of the tornado that tore OUR lives apart . . . the weather was just like this, on June 1, two years ago . . . it feels like tornado weather right here, right now!"

And sure enough, true to his Native American roots, Marash Boy had predicted the weather.  Last night the weather news was reporting tornado warnings in Western Massachusetts and the Berkshires -- a tornado had been sighted touching down just west of the border between Massachusetts and New York State . . .

The sorrow that was dredged up in our hearts upon hearing the news of the tornado, the memory of loss . . . not only loss of home and loss of three generations of memories . . . but a loss of sense of place . . .

Our condolences to all of those in Moore, Oklahoma, who have suffered at the hand of the tornado of May 20, 2013.

[To view the devastation wrought by the tornado of June 1, 2011, on top of Wilbraham Mountain, click this link:  http://marashgirl.blogspot.com/2011/06/what-tornado-left-us-our-cabin-on-top.html]

Return to Westview Creamery, Monson, Massachusetts

Iffar offers a piece of carrot to a baby goat as the throng looks on.

For the first time since the tornado (which hit Wilbraham and Monson on June 1, 2011), Enila & Iffar (their pen names) returned to the mountain in Monson this past Friday, to visit their favorite Western Massachusetts haunt, the goats at Westview Creamery (oh, and of course, to sample the ice cream)!  Although it was almost sunset, they managed to feed the goats a cone filled with goat food, a carrot, and flowers of clover for dessert.

Enila struggles to make sure the baby goats get to eat the treats she has to offer before the adults "horn in".

Tiring of the struggle to feed one goat at a time, Iffar tosses a handful of goat feed to the mother goat as the goat's kid chooses to nurse.

Enila poses for the camera as a neighboring hand offers food to the ever hungry goats.

As the sun sets in the west, we gaze upon what was once our Wilbraham Mountain abode (far left mountain top).

Interested in reading more about the tornado that hit Wilbraham & Monson on June 1, 2011?  Go to http://marashgirl.blogspot.com/search/label/Tornado

Hats off to the man with the helping hat!

It's not often that folks today are aware of their surroundings, aware enough to lend a neighbor a helping hand, or in this case, a helping hat.  It was 6:30 AM, already 85 degrees, hot and humid at the YMCA track in Newton Corner, Massachusetts.   There were folks walking or running around the track, but no matter which way they ran,  the sun was shining directly into their eyes, that is, if they had not thought to wear sunglasses or a cap with a bill.  The more seasoned runners had, of course, protected their eyes, but not Marash Girl.  As Marash Girl never had had to walk east in the summer -- to wit, she had always walked or run north and south along the ridge of the mountain, along Ridge Road in Wilbraham, that is, until the June 1, 2011, tornado permanently ended those summer runs.  So for the first time in her life, at 6:30 AM on a July morning, Marash Girl was walking/running east and west in Newton Corner, far from a mountain top, parallel to the Mass. Turnpike, and, as mentioned above, right into the sun.  But there is still chivalry in this world.  A chap running around the track, noticing her plight, offered Marash Girl his baseball cap, perfect for shading the eyes from that morning sun -- he had sunglasses, he said, to protect his eyes (and he did).  Hesitating, Marash Girl accepted his chivalry and his hat, and herewith would like to give a shout out to him --  Hats off to that man with the helping hat!

Tornado Watch Lifted in the Connecticut Valley -- 2011 Aftermath Persists

Yesterday evening, Marash Girl's heart lurched when she heard WBUR's warning that there was a tornado watch in the Connecticut Valley.  Not again . . . A year ago (on June 1, 2011, to be exact), Marash Girl's life changed, as did the lives of all of the folks who summered and loved in the cabin on top of Wilbraham Mountain.


Here's the link to Marash Girl's blogs on the tornado of June 1, 2011.

Wilbraham, Massachusetts: 10 months after the tornado

There she stood, at the corner of Tinkham and Main Streets in Wilbraham, Massachusetts.  Marash Girl with tears in her eyes.  A barren landscape greeted her.  Houses standing, Merrick Farmstand extant, but not a tree in sight.  Plastic houses on a Monopoly board. Or, to quote Theresa Munn, "Feel like we're living in a new development before the developer put in the trees . . . and the last place I ever wanted to live was in a new development."  Or as Farmer Lewellyn Merrick commented, "It'll take 50 years for trees to grow back." (See Marash Girl's posts of June 2 ff. on the Tornado that hit Western Massachusetts on June 1, 2011.)  Unbeknownst to Marash Girl, at that same moment, Marash Boy was on the top of Wilbraham Mountain, surveying the family land where there was now not a trace of the cabin; only trees -- uprooted trees, trees with broken hearts.

As she writes this post, Marash Girl remembers her mother's love for trees, and for the poem that she so often recited to Marash Girl as Marash Girl was growing up:

TREES
Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918)

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

 

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

 

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

 

A tree that may in Summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

 

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain. 

 

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree. 

 

"Trees" was originally published in Trees and Other Poems. Joyce Kilmer. New 

York: George H. Doran Company, 1914.

Tornado Relief, Pioneer Valley Style

At the Indian Orchard Mills Artists Open House, in Indian Orchard, Massachusetts, Lani Giguere (photographer, Longmeadow, MA) and Jeff Groleau (Primary Colour Gallery, Fine Art and Custom Framing, Granby, MA) spent the afternoon of November 12, 2011, contributing to the Tornado Recovery (families recovering from their loss in the  tornado of June 1, 2011).  As Lani said, these folks have lost everything, including family photographs that can never be replaced.  We hope to help them recover, by gifting them a family photograph, professionally  matted and framed.  The families participating, scheduled throughout the day, left with smiles on their faces reflecting the smiles in the photographs that had just been gifted them.  This free event was co-sponsored by Heritage Photography (Lanigiguere@HeritagePhotographyOnLine.com), Jeff Groleau of Primary Colour Gallery (contactus@pcfineart.com), Mansir Printing, Holyoke, MA, photobybeckie.com, Hunt's Photo & Video, Canson-Infinity.com, of Pioneer Valley Photographic Artists (www.pvphotoartists.com).

N.B.  For more on the June 1, 2011, tornado that hit towns from Sturbridge to Springfield, Massachusetts, please click http://marashgirl.blogspot.com/search/label/Tornado

The hills are alive with the sound of music . . . and the scent of apples!

Every fall, they would gather apples from the century old apple trees in the fields on top of Wilbraham Mountain, trees planted by their forebears, trees giving fruit to the children and grandchildren of the folks that planted the ancient trees in the rocky ground.  Some children sprayed the trees with insecticide, giving the grandchildren perfectly poisoned apples.  But as time passed, and people passed, so did the spray, and the trees once again were able to gift the children and grandchildren with apples borne of air and water.  More time passed, and the tornado of June 2011 took away that gift.

 
Now in November in the mountains of Vermont, having missed the joy of gathering apples on the top of Wilbraham Mountain, Marash Girl  wandered along the roads and trails of Stowe, spotting the occasional gnarled apple.

And then she looked up. . .

and kept looking up. All over the hills and along the roads and trails were wild apple trees bearing ancient fruit, fruit for the passerby (animal or human), fruit for the eye and the palate.  But it was already November, and the apples on the trees were no longer reachable -- above arm's length on the ancient trees, no ladder in sight . . .  but the occasional apple had fallen (and yes, not too far from the tree). 

Alert to the existence of the wild apples, Marash Girl, in a tarred parking lot bordering a rock strewn stream, spied,  nestled among the rocks, beautiful golden apples.

She looked above her and saw the tree that had shared its apples, still laden with gold, apples within arm's reach.  Climbing down onto the treacherous rocks and reaching up, Marash Girl, like a child who had not eaten for days, filled her pockets, her hands and her arms full of beautiful golden apples, apples from the hills and mountains of Stowe, Vermont. 

Wild organic apples, a gift from the past . . .

ORDER IN THE COURT: THE WOODEN GAVEL THAT SURVIVED THE TORNADO

One of the items that survived the June 1 tornado in Wilbraham was the wooden gavel that had its home on the green monster (buffet) that was opposite the front door of the mountain top cabin in Wilbraham, Massachusetts.  Marash Girl looked at that gavel made of oak (was it made from one of the oak trees on the mountain?) and tried to remember. . . What was it that the kids used to play?  She wrote an email asking for enlightenment, and here are the responses.

I believe the wooden gavel was used to play "Order in the Court"  When we would have a mock trial.  Funny, I was just thinking about that game the other day. Deron C.

All I remember about the game was banging the gavel and saying order in the court (and I think there were quite a few circular indents on the porch table from the banging).  Did we actually do a trial?  I don't remember any other part other than the banging of the gavel.  Karoun C.

Banging the gavel and saying, "Order in the Court"?  Nisha C.

Didn't we use it for that game?  The market game.  Corner on the Market?   I remember Marash Girl saying, "Order in the Court!"  Nancy H.

A guessing game of right or wrong decided by gaveling? Levon C.

I was trying to remember how that game went.
Perhaps we should have a re-trial at Christmas. Lorig C.

We got our first glimpse of the court system through this game.  I guess we viewed the courts as chaotic!  Lorig C.

What Marash Girl remembers? An 800 square foot cabin in Wilbraham, with sleeping for 14, almost always 6 children and 2 to 4 adults enjoying the summer camaraderie -- someone had to keep order in that court -- and the kids decided they were the ones to do it!  Where the gavel came from, we'll never know!

Tornadoes? Earthquakes? What's going on?

So we were on our way to Wilbraham to take a look at the post-tornado clean up operation that was in progress on top of Wilbraham Mountain -- the clean up of what was left of the trees and the cabin (see posts for June 1 ff.), when we got a phone call from our daughter.  "Are you alright?"  What?  "Did you feel it?"  What?  "The earthquake that hit 17 minutes ago."  What earthquake?  "It's epicenter was in Virginia, but folks in buildings in Washington DC, New York City, Boston, Natick and Springfield say they felt 5 to 15 seconds of shaking!"  So for the next hour we were trying to reach family in Takoma Park, Maryland, and New York City, although all the telephone lines were tied up, as we barreled across the Massachusetts Turnpike, going west.  I guess if you're driving at 65 miles an hour, you don't feel any more tremors than the car going over the Turnpike provides. My brother was the last to call to find out if we were okay.  He recalled, laughingly, that when he was living in Southern California, they were experiencing tremors like this one every other week!

What was hard to believe was that we were driving towards the cleanup from the devastation of one natural disaster (the tornado) at the very moment that another natural disaster (the earthquake) was in progress.

National Weather Service: Tornado indicated near Springfield, Wilbraham, Monson

Marash Boy just arrived home as the skies darkened and his phone rang.  Another tornado in Wilbraham?  And we had been thinking about clearing the rubble and rebuilding. . . A warning from God?  What is going on?  Two in two months?  Luckily we're not there in Wilbraham, and we have very little more that we can lose -- I guess it could hit the sheds which it spared last time around. . . and the few trees that it left standing . . .

Wednesday Morning, July, 27, 2011:  Thanks be to God -- the tornado dissipated and Wilbraham only received heavy winds, violent thunderstorms, and huge hailstones.

Armenian By Choice

Armenian By Choice

June 4, 2011 - After working for hours under the hot sun salvaging for us whatever memories she could from beneath the tangle of trees and pile of detritus (once our cabin) climbing 15 feet into the sky, with no trees to shade her, (the tornado had torn them down and used those trees to crush the cabin), good friend and neighbor Joan Scully Metz holds up the Armenian flag which she has rescued from the rubble.  She has indeed earned her stripes, as it were; she has been baptized ABC: Armenian By Choice, and may I add, Armenian By Courage.  We are so grateful.

July 4, 2011: Monson at the East Longmeadow Parade: After the Tornado

On the day before the 4th, chairs were lined up along both sides of the road, chairs without people, insuring space along the route of the East Longmeadow Parade, ensuring the right of the people of East Longmeadow to celebrate the 235th birthday of the United States of America.  As one man shouted out while watching the parade, "It's a great day to be an American."  I'm not quite sure what he meant by the statement, but there it is!







Amidst the Shriners' clowns










and the marching bands from the towns of Western Massachusetts and Connecticut in East Longmeadow's Fourth of July parade,

 

walked the folks from the hills of Monson, carrying a gigantic flag over an invisible casket, dragging leafless tree branches behind them,

commemorating in silence the destruction that occurred 34 days earlier, a mournful testament to the loss and devastation wrought by the tornado of June 1, a testament which, in the midst of the joy that came before and after, brought tears to the eyes of the onlookers.

Doing the Lord's Work: Tornado Relief at the First Church in Monson, Massachusetts

Volunteers at the First Church in Monson collect names of people in need and coordinate volunteers who are ready to work for the tornado relief.  If you want to help, you can donate money, buy a T-shirt for $20, or simply show up to volunteer.  If you don't know how you can help, just show up; they'll be able to use your skills, whatever they are. When I delivered a carload of sundries and asked the crew what was needed, they said that monetary donations would be greatly appreciated as well as wheelbarrows, chain saws that work, and people who can work heavy machinery to clean up debris and remove trees and limbs.

The Towns of Monson and Wilbraham have established separate funds to help Monson and Wilbraham residents who have suffered losses due to the storm.  Anyone wishing to make donations may do so at any branch of the Monson Savings Bank, or send a check payable to: "Monson Tornado Victims Relief Fund" Monson Savings Bank, 146 Main St, Monson, MA 01057 or "Wilbraham Tornado Victims Relief Fund" Monson Savings Bank, 100 Post Office Park, Wilbraham, MA 01095.

The First Church of Monson, United Church of Christ, missing its steeple which was torn off by the hurricane.

The hurricane even destroyed the church sign.

The Goats Survived! The Tornado, Westview Creamery, Monson, Massachusetts

Aline & Raffi, August, 2009, enjoying Westview Creamery ice cream in the shade!

Feeding the goats, Westview Farm, August, 2009

WESTVIEW CREAMERY is Raffi and Aline's favorite place to visit, as much for the goats as for the ice cream. On top of a mountain in Monson, Massachusetts, it has the best ice cream around (it's very own, made on site, ice cream which far outshines Ben & Jerry's) and, in the fall, the biggest pumpkins you've ever seen.  But what makes it most special for many of us, especially the young ones, is the goats; every summer's day there are children surrounding the goat pen, joyously feeding the goats 'ice cream cones' filled with goat food pellets, or simply handfuls of grass.

Thus, when  Raffi & Aline learned that the tornado had destroyed their summer cabin on Wilbraham Mountain, the cabin that their great grandfather had built to replace the lost homeland, a haven for all to come and celebrate life,  the children asked, "But are the goats okay?"  Marash Girl had, in fact, tried to drive down East Hill Road in Monson to see if the goats were okay, but the road was blocked for days. Yesterday Marash Girl was able to drive along East Hill Road to Westview Farm & Creamery. There was devastation on both sides of the road, huge trees down on every side, but the farm looked intact.  With a sigh of hope, Marash Girl proceeded to the ice cream shop and spoke with the manager.  The only damage was to the barn -- the roof blew off -- and to the goat's shelter which was blown in half.  We've ordered another goat shelter, but it will be  a while before it gets here. We're all fine, she said, all of us and all of the goats.  We all survived.

Wilbraham Mountain can be seen on the horizon to the left of the goat pens. In the foreground, a post tornado temporary shelter has been set up for the goats.