Remember Zeytun, remember the Armenians. Our revenge was that we survived and prospered.

I am Armenian, I am Fundijaktsiner, we are revolutionaries.  We helped light the spark that started a great fire.

My grandfather was born in 1881, he lived in a small mountain village called Fundejak in Turkey, which is near the city of Marash.  He spent is early years raising grapes and wheat.

In 1865, and later in 1895, the Turks attacked a nearby village of Zeytun, where my grandmother and her family was from, because the Zeytuntsiner were harboring the Social Democrat Hunchakian Party, which called for a revolution in Turkey.  In both instances the Armenians of Zeytun held off the Turks, until France and the other major European nations intervened and negotiated a peace, thereby ending the resistance.

Still, life was not good for Armenians in Turkey, and many families sought to leave Turkey for other countries.  My grandfather was one of them, leaving for California in 1913.  His wife and three children stayed behind in Zeytun with her family.

With the start of WWI, and the rise of the Young Turks, who overthrew the Sultan, the Turks set out for revenge against the Armenians, particularly in Zeytun.  The Zeytuntsiner fought a battle against overwhelming odds, finally abandoning their stronghold and taking refuge in Fundejak.  On July 26, 1915 the Turks attacked Fundejak and were surprised, overwhelmed, and captured by the Armenian resistance.  The next day, the Fundejak and Zeytun fighters executed the prisoners and burned six neighboring villages which housed Turkish settlers brought into the region after the 1895 revolt.

Soon after, the Turks brought in over 8,000 regular troops, along with numerous mountain guns.  They massacred the resistance, and sent the women and children off into the Syrian desert to die.

My grandmother escaped with her brother, but lost all of her children.  Girls were raped, put into harems or forced into servitude, and boys that weren't circumcised were stabbed and left to die.  She made it to Beirut, where she lived for a number of years.  Her brother joined the French foreign legion serving in Morocco.  Once he obtained his citizenship, they moved to Marseille.

My grandfather, helpless to do anything, enlisted in the US army.  Once he was discharged, he moved to Porterville, CA and started a grape orchard.  He was reunited with my grandmother in 1928  They had two more children together, one being my father, who was born in 1931

This is our story.  I tell it because those who survived it were humiliated and crushed by what happened to them.  They wont talk about it.

I encourage you all to go see the movie "The Promise", out in theatres today. 

The Gods favor the bold

I'm trying to help my adult children find a career.  I have listened to them over the years.  Their hopes and dreams, and their interests.  Then recently I read an article by Mike Rowe that talks about the importance of Trade schools to the future of this country.  My oldest wants to be an auto mechanic, my youngest daughter wants to be a chef, my third daughter wants to be a beautician.

Do what you love, and you'll never work a day in your life.

So, I got on a campaign to help them get into trade school.  I took each one on a tour of the schools, driving a considerable distance to do so.  We helped them get financial aid and worked out the details on how they could find a job and get a place.  It so happens that all the schools are in the same city, relatively close to one another.  So it is of great advantage for them to get a place together and share the cost.

That is where everything went wrong.

They all want to bring their romantic companions.  Well, it just so happens that all of their mates don't have jobs, or ambitions, or brains in their heads.  Instead I have seen them subtly sabotage, in one way or another, their plans to move.  I guess misery loves company and they would rather have my daughters go no where and forget about their dreams.

Of course, then I confront my children about this drag they get very defensive and angry with me.  So, I have steadily watched them succumb to this selfish manipulation and start to sabotage themselves.  They don't want to tell Dad that they have changed their mind.

I have passive-aggressive behavior.

So, I get to watch a train wreck.  It is as much my dream to see them chase their ambitions as it is for them to find their boldness.