"War is God's Way of Teaching Americans Geography"

My mom in Syria 1967

My mother in Deir al-Zur

 All the current news regarding Syria, ISIS, the terrorist attacks in France, has our attention.  But it's not a very good attention.  This article gives a clear picture of the demographics of Syria - a safe haven for my grandparents and my mother during the Armenian massacres/genocide in Turkey circa 1915.  It is heartbreaking for me to see what has been happening there and particularly to the Armenian population, largely ignored by Western media.

Michael Izady's Detailed Map of Ethnicity in Syria and the Syrian Armenians

In 1915 my grandparents were forced to leave their ancestral home in Eastern Turkey and sent into the direction of the desert.  At some point they were able to find safe haven in Syria, but not without great cost in human lives, including several of their children and my grandfather's parents.  Whole families were lost on what they called the death march.

The author of the article says this about the Armenians that eventually built thriving communities in Syria:

  As Izady’s maps show, Armenian communities are scattered through several parts of Syria. One of the largest Armenian communities is found in the eastern Syrian city of Deir al-Zur (alternatively Deir ez-Zor, Deir Ezzor, Deir Al-Zor, Dayr Al-Zawr, Der Ezzor), a settlement of more than 200,000 inhabitants that is noted for its oil-refineries and other industries. Deir al-Zur is particularly important in Armenian history, as it was one of the main destinations of Armenians expelled by the Ottoman Empire during World War I, a deadly process regarded by most historians of the issue as genocidal in nature. Deir al-Zur is also located near the core power-base of the so-called Islamic State (or ISIS). As a result, the Armenian communities of the region are highly threatened.

Source: http://www.geocurrents.info/cultural-geography/michael-izadys-amazingly-detailed-map-ethnicity-syria-syrian-armenians#ixzz3sQotzDiG

This has been on an ongoing tragedy for several years now.  I have been watching from my comfortable seat while my heart breaks and I feel helpless.  The world watches as journalists are beheaded, Israel is bombed from Syria, governments break down, Christians are beheaded in Egypt and we sit silent while the Jihadists' plans unfold accordingly.

The article goes on to lament the attacks on the Christian Armenians in Syria:

The city of Deir al-Zur did gain brief attention in late September after ISIS militants destroyed a prominent Armenian Church as well as an Armenian Memorial to the ethnic expulsions of the early twentieth century, prompting widespread international condemnation. Armenian sources, however, expressed disappointment that the official response from the United States “failed to either mention the very reason for this holy site’s existence, the Armenian Genocide…”

Source: http://www.geocurrents.info/cultural-geography/michael-izadys-amazingly-detailed-map-ethnicity-syria-syrian-armenians#ixzz3sQqUsMWx

I'm not sure, but I believe my mother visited this church on a pilgrimage she took in 1967 to visit relatives in Syria and other countries of the region where Armenians had been scattered.

http://www.armenia.com.au/news/Armenia-News/English/46918/Forty-Martyrs-Armenian-church-in-Aleppo-destroyed

This article is from last year - I hoped that we would wake up, but I'm not sure we will:

http://www.armradio.am/en/2014/11/11/destruction-of-armenian-church-in-deir-el-zour-a-savage-blow-that-echoes-through-armenian-history/

If you have time, read the articles, they are an eye opener.

Today's Excursion to Balsam Meadow

 Today we took a short ride to our nearby forest - about 20 minutes away.  It was initially quite disturbing to see all the dead trees.  I have never seen so many.  Our drought has caused the trees to be so dry that the bark beetle has taken over and killed many of our pine trees. These are not pictures of fall colored trees, these are dead trees.

 However, we made it to our destination and a winter wonderland opened up to us.  In our tennis shoes, we hiked the 2 1/2 mi. through the snow to a small lake created by a hydro utility company, sending electricity down to Southern California.  We were rewarded with beautiful vistas as the sun was setting and sparkled on the lake and snow.

Some of the pictures I got on my camera phone.  I had fun enjoying the light and dark that was playing out with the sun setting.

We stopped for dinner at a bar and grill near the lake

The place is actually a snow park but there wasn't a lot of snow as it has warmed up the past few days.  But it was enough to keep us cool and add to the beauty.

On our way home we stopped in a local pub to have dinner so we wouldn't need to worry about it later.  I loved the way they decorated and as an avid photographer, I also enjoyed their displayed photographs (which they sold, naturally) of the scenery in the area.


I'm still recovering from my surgery, but it was good to get out and hike again.  Can't wait for my hair to finish growing out.

My dad - Corporal, United States Army 1943-1945

My dad - Corporal in the United States Army, Pacific Theater, Philippines and Papua New Guinea, 1943-1945.  He was assigned to 24th Quartermaster Company.

He was nick-named short pockets because he stood barely 5 ft. 2 in. and weighed 110 lbs at the time he entered the military.  He suffered greatly during his time in the Philippines and New Guinea.  Not only did he fall ill to malaria and anemia, we heard stories of battle such as one time when he and other soldiers were pinned down in a house in the Philippines and only he and one other fellow who played dead survived.  We saw pictures of him holding a Japanese head in his hands wherein the governor of the Philippines offered a bounty.  When he returned from the war, he stowed his machete that apparently was used to chop off a Japanese soldier's head, with his brother as he wanted no part of it.

He told my brother that he shook General MacArthur's hand and idolized him.  This is very likely true because MacArthur returned to the island of Leyte in 1944 where my father was. http://www.history.com/this-day-in-history/macarthur-returns   MacArthur had been told to leave and left behind 90,000 American and Filipino soldiers much to the general's dismay.  The island of Leyte is where MacArthur had been forced to flee from and where he had vowed to return and return he did. It must have been to my father's great relief.

By the time I was born my father rarely recounted any of his war stories, but I saw the pictures.  I also treasured the jewelry he made out of sea shells he collected in the Philippines.  What else does a soldier do far away from home?  I try to imagine what it was like in Papua New Guinea in 1943.

Interestingly, my dad never spoke ill of any other creed or race.  He was kind to the other Japanese farmers he worked with here in the Central Valley.  Many came to his funeral.  In his heart, he was a peaceful man.

Picture of a Japanese troop - maybe my father found it in a fallen Japanese soldier's pocket

WWII Japanese leaflet

Back of the leaflet

Cranial Surgery - My Story

Getting love from a therapy dog after surgery

It seems that I have taken a hiatus from writing for a couple of months.  Cranial surgery will do that to you.  A few years ago I was diagnosed with a meningioma.  A benign brain tumor.  I had gone in for an MRI due to some dizzy spells I was having (they had nothing to do with the tumor) and that's when they discovered it.  It wasn't good news but all the medical professionals said it was slow growing, benign, and not to worry.  It hadn't grown enough to affect me. So every year I would get an MRI to check on it.  This last year it had grown 1/2 an inch and they promptly sent me to a neurosurgeon.  There I was given a couple of choices but I really had only one choice it seemed - remove it.

I didn't tell my friends or family because I didn't want them to worry and I knew they would.  I scheduled the surgery for October 13th and I told my family about a month before.  And yes, all Hell broke loose, as they say.  Two daughters came to stay with me and take care of me after surgery (Thank Heaven for Little Girls).  They really were a God-send.

5:30 a.m., everyone in the waiting room

It's been about 4 weeks since surgery and I'm finally beginning to feel like myself again.  Recovery was rougher than I imagined it to be, but I think it's always that way.  I gained a new-found respect for all those who have to endure these kind of surgeries.  I also am impressed with our medical professionals and all the advances in medicine that have been made.  Thanks to recent advances in MRIs, they can pinpoint the exact location of the tumor and do not have to poke around looking for it.  I'm sure that cut back recovery time.

In short, this has been my explanation of my sudden absence this last month.  I have returned.

To the right is a picture of me with two of my daughters and my daughter-in-law.  My first outing after surgery last month.  Part of my hair was shaved, hence the scarf.