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Monument honors those lost
By John Ciampa/ Staff Writer
Chelmsford Independent, MA
Aug 4 2005
At the Sts. Vartanantz Armenian Church on Old Westford Road stand
three granite tablets differing in height, meaning and coloration.
The triptych lies stark and still, as if the people that it
represents are actually a million distant echoes cast within the
stoney silence of memory - voices of the past that long for us to
heed their stories of pathos and loss.
This striking memorial, erected to commemorate the 90th
anniversary of the Armenian Genocide, does not just ask for attention
- it demands it.
The monument's layout is distinctive and rich with symbolism in
order to accurately reflect what happened during the genocide.
Columns of granite rise up from a round pedestal that is
encircled by rows of brick. The bricks form a cross that stretches
from the monument toward the church. Between the arms of the cross
rests a series of benches - erected for relatives who survived,
perished and one marked as "unknown," signifying those unaccounted
for.
"That bench is very important for me," says former Chelmsford
High principal George Simonian, a member of Sts. Vartanantz and a
direct descendent of survivors of the genocide.
"So many Armenians were simply taken away and there is no record
of them. I had relatives that were brought out to sea, thrown
overboard and that was it. Others were just taken from their homes,
never to be heard from or seen again," he said.
Simonian says that everything about the monument is deliberate
and carefully designed. When facing the church in front of the
monument, the three stones symbolize a family - a man, woman and
child - entering the church.
In the late-afternoon sun the monolithic shadows are long and
dark, emphasizing their presence.
A pair of granite spires - cast in the likeness of the church's
gold dome - guide visitors toward the monument along a path that
extends to the church's front vestibule. Between the spires, the
horizon drapes a canvas behind the stones that stretch into the
foothills of southern New Hampshire, where merging shades of blue
from the mountains and sky provide a hallowed backdrop.
"We were lucky enough to get have a generous benefactor in William
Hausrath," says Simonian. He wasn't Armenian, but his wife Agnes
Manoogian was. He made the donation on her behalf."
According to Simonian, Hausrath presented the church with the
funds in April 2004.
Simonian motions with his hands across the church's property as
he recalls the careful positioning of the monument.
"We debated the location," he explains. "When we noticed the
view from the front of the church overlooking this area, it became
clear that this would be the spot."
Also seen from the church are a series intricate carvings that
adorn each stone.
According to Sts. Vartanantz parishioner, Jim Magarian, there
are called Khathckars, which hearken back to the stone crosses that
have historically been placed in Armenian monasteries.
"We spared no expense," says Simonian. "The stones are made of
Barre Gray granite from Vermont, which is the best there is. Local
builders came in and did a tremendous job. We worked with Luz Granite
from Lowell, and Mark Donovan from Westford, a former student of
mine, did the brickwork."
Dedicated to the men, women and children who lost their lives
during the genocide, each tablet eulogizes the groups who perished.
Their inscriptions read in unison: May God Enlighten Their Souls.
The Armenian Genocide signifies the widespread strife that swept
across the eastern regions of the Ottoman Empire, primarily from
1915-1922, in which Armenia sustained massive losses in both
territory and population.
One of the oldest civilizations in the world, the former
Armenian nation stretched over much of the ancient Middle East.
Today, Armenia occupies only a small area about the size of Maryland,
just north of Iran.
Armenians place blame on the Young Turks - a leading faction
that rose to power within the Ottoman ranks during this period, but
Simonian says that the seeds to the Genocide were sown well before
that.
"Going back to the late-19th century, the Ottomans were growing
increasingly weary of us. We were an ambitious and upwardly mobile
people - and the only Christians in the region."
Throughout the 20th century, scholars and historians have
discussed the Armenian Genocide in an attempt to place it within its
proper historical context. Much of Armenia's former lands lie in
present-day Turkey.
Turkish authorities continue to deny the genocide, instead
labeling it as consequence of war (genocide by definition, must
constitute a planned means of mass extermination). Exacerbating the
issue is the fact that it occurred during the outbreak of World War
I, with much of the world distracted by the chaos that was engulfing
Europe at the time.
"It's not even about the land," insists Simonian. "We're simply
looking for some kind of admission. The Germany of today has nothing
to do with the Nazis, yet that doesn't keep them from acknowledging
the Holocaust."
"The Turkish government has consistently made attempts to deny
any self-incriminating evidence on the subject," says Magarian.
"There's ample evidence showing how they've suppressed dialogue and
information within their own country."
Those who call it a genocide attest that the process by which
Armenians were killed was clinical and calculated, and not the result
of a protracted conflict.
They claim that it began with the murder of Armenian men who
were serving in the Turkish infantry, followed by the rounding up
hundreds of Armenian elites in the Turkish capital of Constantinople
on April 24, 1915, where they were executed.
"They were scholars, businessmen and politicians, essentially
our leaders," said Simonian.
Then, after having annihilated much of the Armenian male
population, Turkish forces drove the remaining Armenian women and
children in "death marches" into the depths of what is now Syria,
where they were left to perish in the desert heat.
Henry I. Morgenthau was the American Ambassador to
Constantinople from 1913 to 1916. His memoir, "Ambassador
Morgenthau's Story," details much of what he witnessed in Armenia.
Published in 1918, it remains one of the most widely cited American
accounts of what took place.
"Whatever crimes the most perverted instincts of the human mind can
devise, and whatever refinements of persecution and injustice the
most debased imagination can conceive, became the daily misfortunes
of this devoted people," wrote Morgenthau.
Despite Morganthau's words, the U.S. stands among the nations
that have yet to acknowledge the Genocide, and both the Clinton and
Bush administrations have abstained from referring to it as such,
though President Reagan did use the term at one point during his
tenure.
"The U.S. position is based on a policy of political interest,"
claims Magarian. "Armenia is a small nation that holds little
strategic importance for the U.S., yet Turkey continues to be a key
Middle Eastern ally that we want to appease."
The list of nations that have officially acknowledged it
continues to grow, however, and includes France, Italy, Russia,
Canada and even the Vatican, among others.
Regardless of where today's regimes stand, most nations share
the consensus that Armenia suffered immeasurable losses.
"Most estimates place total casualties around 1.5 million," says
Magarian.
That figure constitutes roughly 60 percent of Armenians who were
living at the time - a proportion equaling that of the Holocaust.
Adolf Hitler would come to invoke the plight of the Armenians some 20
years later when giving orders to round up Jews.
"Many more were deported or abandoned. My father was one of the
children who managed to escape," adds Magarian.
Many others who also escaped now call the U.S. home, and the
Boston area holds one of the most vibrant Armenian communities in the
country. The Armenian Library and Museum of America is located in
Watertown. Inside, visitors can find a wealth of information on
Armenian history including archived recordings from survivors of the
Genocide.
Like the monument that now stands here in town, it is a testament to
a people who have persevered.
By John Ciampa/ Staff Writer
Chelmsford Independent, MA
Aug 4 2005
At the Sts. Vartanantz Armenian Church on Old Westford Road stand
three granite tablets differing in height, meaning and coloration.
The triptych lies stark and still, as if the people that it
represents are actually a million distant echoes cast within the
stoney silence of memory - voices of the past that long for us to
heed their stories of pathos and loss.
This striking memorial, erected to commemorate the 90th
anniversary of the Armenian Genocide, does not just ask for attention
- it demands it.
The monument's layout is distinctive and rich with symbolism in
order to accurately reflect what happened during the genocide.
Columns of granite rise up from a round pedestal that is
encircled by rows of brick. The bricks form a cross that stretches
from the monument toward the church. Between the arms of the cross
rests a series of benches - erected for relatives who survived,
perished and one marked as "unknown," signifying those unaccounted
for.
"That bench is very important for me," says former Chelmsford
High principal George Simonian, a member of Sts. Vartanantz and a
direct descendent of survivors of the genocide.
"So many Armenians were simply taken away and there is no record
of them. I had relatives that were brought out to sea, thrown
overboard and that was it. Others were just taken from their homes,
never to be heard from or seen again," he said.
Simonian says that everything about the monument is deliberate
and carefully designed. When facing the church in front of the
monument, the three stones symbolize a family - a man, woman and
child - entering the church.
In the late-afternoon sun the monolithic shadows are long and
dark, emphasizing their presence.
A pair of granite spires - cast in the likeness of the church's
gold dome - guide visitors toward the monument along a path that
extends to the church's front vestibule. Between the spires, the
horizon drapes a canvas behind the stones that stretch into the
foothills of southern New Hampshire, where merging shades of blue
from the mountains and sky provide a hallowed backdrop.
"We were lucky enough to get have a generous benefactor in William
Hausrath," says Simonian. He wasn't Armenian, but his wife Agnes
Manoogian was. He made the donation on her behalf."
According to Simonian, Hausrath presented the church with the
funds in April 2004.
Simonian motions with his hands across the church's property as
he recalls the careful positioning of the monument.
"We debated the location," he explains. "When we noticed the
view from the front of the church overlooking this area, it became
clear that this would be the spot."
Also seen from the church are a series intricate carvings that
adorn each stone.
According to Sts. Vartanantz parishioner, Jim Magarian, there
are called Khathckars, which hearken back to the stone crosses that
have historically been placed in Armenian monasteries.
"We spared no expense," says Simonian. "The stones are made of
Barre Gray granite from Vermont, which is the best there is. Local
builders came in and did a tremendous job. We worked with Luz Granite
from Lowell, and Mark Donovan from Westford, a former student of
mine, did the brickwork."
Dedicated to the men, women and children who lost their lives
during the genocide, each tablet eulogizes the groups who perished.
Their inscriptions read in unison: May God Enlighten Their Souls.
The Armenian Genocide signifies the widespread strife that swept
across the eastern regions of the Ottoman Empire, primarily from
1915-1922, in which Armenia sustained massive losses in both
territory and population.
One of the oldest civilizations in the world, the former
Armenian nation stretched over much of the ancient Middle East.
Today, Armenia occupies only a small area about the size of Maryland,
just north of Iran.
Armenians place blame on the Young Turks - a leading faction
that rose to power within the Ottoman ranks during this period, but
Simonian says that the seeds to the Genocide were sown well before
that.
"Going back to the late-19th century, the Ottomans were growing
increasingly weary of us. We were an ambitious and upwardly mobile
people - and the only Christians in the region."
Throughout the 20th century, scholars and historians have
discussed the Armenian Genocide in an attempt to place it within its
proper historical context. Much of Armenia's former lands lie in
present-day Turkey.
Turkish authorities continue to deny the genocide, instead
labeling it as consequence of war (genocide by definition, must
constitute a planned means of mass extermination). Exacerbating the
issue is the fact that it occurred during the outbreak of World War
I, with much of the world distracted by the chaos that was engulfing
Europe at the time.
"It's not even about the land," insists Simonian. "We're simply
looking for some kind of admission. The Germany of today has nothing
to do with the Nazis, yet that doesn't keep them from acknowledging
the Holocaust."
"The Turkish government has consistently made attempts to deny
any self-incriminating evidence on the subject," says Magarian.
"There's ample evidence showing how they've suppressed dialogue and
information within their own country."
Those who call it a genocide attest that the process by which
Armenians were killed was clinical and calculated, and not the result
of a protracted conflict.
They claim that it began with the murder of Armenian men who
were serving in the Turkish infantry, followed by the rounding up
hundreds of Armenian elites in the Turkish capital of Constantinople
on April 24, 1915, where they were executed.
"They were scholars, businessmen and politicians, essentially
our leaders," said Simonian.
Then, after having annihilated much of the Armenian male
population, Turkish forces drove the remaining Armenian women and
children in "death marches" into the depths of what is now Syria,
where they were left to perish in the desert heat.
Henry I. Morgenthau was the American Ambassador to
Constantinople from 1913 to 1916. His memoir, "Ambassador
Morgenthau's Story," details much of what he witnessed in Armenia.
Published in 1918, it remains one of the most widely cited American
accounts of what took place.
"Whatever crimes the most perverted instincts of the human mind can
devise, and whatever refinements of persecution and injustice the
most debased imagination can conceive, became the daily misfortunes
of this devoted people," wrote Morgenthau.
Despite Morganthau's words, the U.S. stands among the nations
that have yet to acknowledge the Genocide, and both the Clinton and
Bush administrations have abstained from referring to it as such,
though President Reagan did use the term at one point during his
tenure.
"The U.S. position is based on a policy of political interest,"
claims Magarian. "Armenia is a small nation that holds little
strategic importance for the U.S., yet Turkey continues to be a key
Middle Eastern ally that we want to appease."
The list of nations that have officially acknowledged it
continues to grow, however, and includes France, Italy, Russia,
Canada and even the Vatican, among others.
Regardless of where today's regimes stand, most nations share
the consensus that Armenia suffered immeasurable losses.
"Most estimates place total casualties around 1.5 million," says
Magarian.
That figure constitutes roughly 60 percent of Armenians who were
living at the time - a proportion equaling that of the Holocaust.
Adolf Hitler would come to invoke the plight of the Armenians some 20
years later when giving orders to round up Jews.
"Many more were deported or abandoned. My father was one of the
children who managed to escape," adds Magarian.
Many others who also escaped now call the U.S. home, and the
Boston area holds one of the most vibrant Armenian communities in the
country. The Armenian Library and Museum of America is located in
Watertown. Inside, visitors can find a wealth of information on
Armenian history including archived recordings from survivors of the
Genocide.
Like the monument that now stands here in town, it is a testament to
a people who have persevered.