A Tale of Two Families

A Tale of Two Families

The Okoomian family in Turkey

When I was a little girl, around 1956 (I was about 5 years old), an event happened that has come full circle in my life (I am now 65).  Sixty years ago my grandmother found her sister who had been torn away from the family after the parents were killed during the war.  The war I am talking about was WWI.  The land I am talking about is Turkey - my parents’ and grandparents’ birthplace.

We are Armenians; we are displaced Armenians.  Both sets of my parents and grandparents escaped the atrocities of that war and found themselves settling into a far away land that promised them peace and prosperity.  They went about putting the pieces of their lives back together.  Meanwhile, those left behind did not fare so well.  Most were killed or died on the death marches.  Forced to leave their homes, they were marched into the desert and left to die.  Including two sets of my great grandparents and numerous aunts and uncles I was to never meet.

My grandmother along with her brother and sister were sent away before the death march that was to be the end of the Armenian presence in Eastern Turkey.  Too young to travel to the new land, their younger siblings were left behind.  My grandmother kept in touch with her sisters until the parents were killed and her sisters were taken by Turkish soldiers.  One sister, Markrid, was able to keep in touch through clandestine methods until that source dried up.  Markrid, was given by the Turkish soldier to a Turkish family.  She was married to one of the sons, a court reporter.  She was only nine years old.

Forty nine years later after her husband died, Markrit felt free enough to look for her sisters and brother in America.  She put an ad in an Armenian-language newspaper.  My grandmother, Mary, saw the ad and promptly had her sister flown to the United States for a tearful and emotional reunion.  Markrit spent 6 months in California getting to know her other family.

Markrid arrives California 1956

Three sisters meet - 49 years later

After Markrid returned to Turkey, my mother made two trips to visit her and her family.  Also, in 1967, Markird’s grandson, Namik and his brand new wife, Sevinc, came to visit us in California.  I was just a teenager then and Sevinc was even younger than me.  Because we were both teenagers, we were given the task of entertaining each other.  This was difficult because I did not speak Turkish and she did not speak English.  We had fun walking around the yard and stroking each other’s cheeks.  Sevinc did nothing but smile and say sweet things to me in Turkish. I never forgot that day.

Namik and Sevinc 1967 in front of my house

Ozzie visits Markrid in 1967

Fast forward to life in the 60s, getting married, divorced, travelling the world and nearly forgetting those teenage days.

  I returned to help my mother in the last 10 years of her life.  She passed away in 1999.  The task was given to me to go through her garage full of boxes of things.  My mother was a known pack rat.  Some opined that it was her days of growing up in France with nothing but her family to hold on to.  And then her father left for the Promised Land only to be reunited 4 years later rather than the 4 months as promised.  Worse, she was made to travel all the way over the ocean leaving her baby brother behind due to visa problems.   Hripsema (my maternal grandmother) remembers little Ozzie (Azadohi) crying all the way to Ellis Island.  It was a long 6 months before her adored baby brother, George, joined them in Philadelphia.

My mother kept every memento possible.  While going through her boxes of pictures, letters, notes, etc., I ran across the story of Markrid, Mary, Elizabeth and brother John as well as all the pictures of Markrid’s visit and letters back and forth between families.  I decided I was going to reunite the families again so I wrote letters to every address I found in my mother’s address book.  I even had a friend translate the letter into Turkish so there would be no confusion.  Every single letter came back.  It appears that all the addresses I had were no longer viable.  Frustrated, I put them away.  Meanwhile, I put the story up on a blog that I had at the time called Armenian Eyes.  I used Markrid’s Turkish name as well as my grandmother’s.  Imagine my surprise when one of the great grandchildren of Markrid (named Burcin) contacted me on my blog.  Their family was so excited to find our family once again.

I struck up a great relationship with Burcin and she helped me fill in some of the blanks on the family tree that I was doing.  I was supposed to go to Turkey and meet everyone but it just never happened.  Sadly, my friendship with Burcin was cut short when she passed away at an early age.  I knew something was wrong as I had not heard from her in awhile.  I contacted a professor friend of mine in Turkey who looked her up in the directory of the college where she had received her schooling.  And there he found her obituary.  I was devastated.   I felt bad for not trying harder to visit and letting that opportunity pass.  Worse, I had no other address or email contact and had once again lost touch with our Turkish cousins.

So, a couple of years ago I started this current new blog and put the story up once again.  Plus, I used my maiden name on social media in case other family history enthusiasts might want to get in touch.  I was surprised again when the same college students found me on both FB and my blog.  Wow.  I was so touched and it brought me to tears.

Fast forward to last month.  The same couple who had visited our family in 1967 decided to make a trip all the way to Fresno and meet our family again.  So Namik and Sevinc and I revisited our 1967 meeting.  We had a whirlwind visit that lasted only a few days but will be a lifetime worth remembering.

Namik and Sevinc
 in front of  my old house 2016

My cousins and I had a wonderful time getting to know our Turkish cousins.  My cousin, Verjene, who was named after the younger sister who, apparently, was taken by a gypsy band and died young, told her story to Namik and Sevinc.  

Verjene
with Markrid 1957

Verjene
with Namik and Sevinc 2016

With my cousin, Pam,
tearfully saying goodbye at the Fresno Airport

This time I will make every effort to meet my long lost cousins and visit my parents’ homeland.