Visit to Ararat-Eskijian Museum March 2017

With my daughter, Angelina

Recently I was finally able to visit a museum (Ararat-Eskijian Museum) in Southern California (Los Angeles County) where I have placed some of my families artifacts from the Armenian Genocide era (@1914-1926) and their journey out of Eastern Turkey and to the United States where they finally arrived in 1928.

I took my odar (non Armenian) husband, my daughter and her two daughters.

The day was exciting, emotional and very informative.  The director, Maggie Goschin, has spent many years collecting the artifacts and arranging events.  She, along with the Eskijian family, have done a monumental job.

Here are a few pictures and description of our day:

My granddaughters, Shay & Jodie

Let me just say that the ornamental gardens around the museum and the chapel were stunning.  Beautifully landscaped and so pleasant.

The statue in front of the museum depicts an Armenian mother saving her child during the genocide and is entitled:  "Mother Armenia Rising Out of the Ashes."  In fact, many Armenian mothers chose rather to throw themselves and/or their babies into the river rather than be captured and tortured by the marauding forces.

The "Orphan Dress"

We saw many artifacts from that time period. Including what the director called the "orphan dress."  A dress which belonged to an orphan who walked 75 miles to an orphanage run by Mennonites in Eastern Turkey during the 1909 massacre brought on by the Bloody Sultan where hundreds of thousands of Armenians were murdered.  The dress had been recently found by an Armenian filmmaker at a college in Indiana.  We were so fortunate to see the dress which is currently on loan to the museum.  Maggie informed us that the patches that covered some of  the dress were not for rips or to patch holes, but were pieces of fabric from loved ones who had died and had been attached to the dress.  At that point I could not hold back my tears. Knowing I had uncles and aunts who died in the desert of Deir ez-Zor in my grandmother's arms or still born while on the "death march" to some faraway location where the army had sent them. Knowing how much my grandmother suffered was hard to comprehend and so the tears came.

Related to that was the bones from the same desert that were being displayed in the chapel above the museum.

Bones from the desert of Deir ez-Zor

The chapel was a treasure for the eyes: with beautiful stained glass windows and many displays.

Coat of Arms from "Lesser Armenia" 

The Coat of Arms where my mother was born in Aintab is called "lesser Armenia" because it was located outside the highlands of Armenia.

We also saw an "Oud" which the curator explained, to my surprise, was not indigenous to Armenians.  It is believed to have originated in Persia 3,500 years ago and is also seen depicted in ancient Egyptian drawings.  My grandfather loved to play the Oud.  So when my mother at 9 years old crossed the Atlantic so that the family could be reunited with her father (who had come ahead 4 years earlier) in America in 1928, she brought an Oud with her for her father.  My son keeps this cherished item for our memories.

An "Oud"

My daughter stands by a replica of the Etchmiadzin Cathedral in Armenia - considered the oldest cathedral in the world.

Here is an article I found that the Huffington Post did on the museum - click here.

My daughter admires a candle lantern used as a lamp

It was an eventful day and even more poignant as this month of April all Armenians around the world will commensurate "Armenian Martyrs Day" and a Day of Remembrance for the Armenian population of today's Eastern Turkey that was eradicated from their ancestral homelands and scattered throughout the world