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Edward Yesayan an autobiography

MY LIF E IN IRA N A N D A M E R ICA

EDWARD YESAYAN Sharing the same birthday as Charles, Prince of Wales, Edward Yesayan was born into a loving Armenian family in Iran. From an early age he showed entrepreneurial spirit and a personality that was oriented towards problem solving. The rise of the Ayatollah Khomeini forced him to flee Iran with his young family and Yesayan found himself starting over again in America with limited means and big ambitions. This is his story...

CONTENTS

M Y ARRI VAL 1 M Y FAM I LY 2 A LI TTLE BIT ABO UT IRAN 12 C H I LDH OO D 15 M Y FIRST FR IE NDS 22 SCHOOL AND PLAY 26 M Y DAD 39 ALBORZ HIGH S CHOO L 49 THE NATION AL UN IV ERS IT Y O F IRA N 66 M Y FIRST JO B

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CONSULTANT S , S U PPLIE RS AND DES IG N E R S

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M ARRI AGE THE AI R FORCE

73 78

M EL D IA’S AR RIVAL

80

ANXIETY

82

THE AIR FOR C E

82

A YOU NG PRO FES S ION AL EXECUTIVE LIF EST Y LE

FLEEI NG IRAN

85 87

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LOS ANG ELES

96

TINA’S ARRIVAL

99

IMM IG RATION

OUR NEW HO ME THE FURNITU RE BU S INES S

A M AJ OR CHAN GE

99

101 104

1 07

ERIK’ S ARRIVAL

110

LIV ING AT AVONOAK T E RRAC E

112

G ROWI NG UP REBU I LDIN G

118 122

M Y FATHER’S DE PART U RE

12 4

LAS VEG AS

12 5

M Y REAL ESTAT E CARE E R

12 7

M Y NEW LIF E

131

OUR SEPARAT ION

131

LEAV ING AVONOAK

132

A HOUSE ON COU N T RY C LU B DRIV E

133

LIV ING ALONE

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THE NEXT GEN ERAT IO N TRAVELI N G

LIFE IS GO OD! U DI NU M HIT CON S ED MAIO VOLOR U M IN CTOR IO Happiness is a skill that I developed by building Loreptaerume volorit as estium vent. Uci alia imenis que non and maintaining friendships, learning new nim quiasim porrumquam la nia ea inis sitasim olupis sent skills and pursuing interests that caught my placearibus as acculle ssimpor re, quidunti conse nus molorrum enthusiasm, working hard, setting goals, but eles autempel magnam, alitia denes aligeni enihici dusaeperunt. above all by finding the joy in living. Few people Uciae essequidendi apienet volupta derenitae odigend ucilitiam. have an easy life, but everyone can have a better Equam ape nullaut adia pos ese dolor atem non pro eosanimus. life. Friends and family and rewarding work all make for happy memories.

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My Arrival

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y mom and Queen Elizabeth each delivered a boy on the same day: November 15, 1948. While the Queen of England delivered Prince Charles in London, my mom had me in Tehran, Iran. It took my dad about six months to decide what to name me, but my parents finally agreed to call me Edward. It makes me happy to think that they made sure my name was so well thought out. I was also pleased by the fact that I was a Scorpio, one of the most passionate astrological signs.

My dad’s plan was that I arrive after the war and that’s what happened. I was born in a Russian hospital in Tehran, which was most likely also Russian-built, as Soviet influence was strong in Iran at the time and was an enduring presence for years afterward. During World War II, Russian, British, and American interests occupied Iran for strategic purposes since the country was key to winning the war against Germany. The leaders of these three countries had historical meetings in Tehran, eventually agreeing to have the Pahlavi Dynasty, a power established thirty years earlier, continue to rule.

They also decided that Mohamed Reza Shah, son of the exiled King of Iran (Reza Shah), would be the king. In the Persian language a king is called the Shah. I was lucky enough to enjoy the leadership of the Shah for thirty years of my life in Iran. I left in December of 1978, one month before the departure of the Shah, and neither one of us ever went back.

Unfortunately, he died a few years later, but his wife and family remained in the United States.

Thinking back to those thirty years brings me joy. I lived a full life with wonderful experiences, and I feel lucky that I grew up in Iran among the most loving people. I can’t think of anything that could have made my childhood or life better.

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M Y PAT ERN AL GREAT-GRA N D FATH E R M OU K H S AVA K . H E WAS M Y GRAN DMOT HER PARA N Z E M ’S FATH E R , A WE L L-K N OWN MERCHANT IN M A RAGH E , IRA N .

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TEH RAN, IRAN ( 19 42-19 45) — M OM WAS 2 2 YE A R S OL D WH E N S H E M A R R I E D M Y DAD. S HE WAS 10 YEARS YOU N GE R TH A N H E WAS .

My Family

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y parents, Armen and Suzan, originally named Armenak and Shoushanik, got married shortly after World War II ended. I remember my dad used to say, “I waited till the war was over to get married,” to ensure the safety of his future family from any threat. My dad was the only child of his family; his dad left for America from their hometown Maraghe, in the north of Iran. My father’s side of the family were established and quite wealthy in Maraghe. My great-grandfather was especially rich, as he was a well-known merchant. He had four daughters. My grandma, Paranzem, was the eldest, and she married my grandpa, Arakel, a teacher who left for America with a political group called Hunchakian along with his friends. When he left, my grandma was already pregnant with my dad. He was born in 1913. Four years afterward, he returned from the US, but soon became ill and passed away. I believe this was because of the 1918 virus. My poor dad never had the chance to experience life with siblings and he regretted not having a brother.

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I RAN (19 10) — MY PAT ERN AL GRA N D PA R E N TS , PA RA N Z E M A N D A RA K EL

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TBILIS I, GEO RGIA ( 19 15) — SATE N IK , M Y M ATE R N A L GRA N D M A , RIGHT, AN D H E R S ISTE R , A L M AST, L E FT.

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Grandpa Arakel wrote memoirs about his experience of living in America with his friends. The memoir was written in Armenian. My dad was really interested to know about his father’s time in America. In Iran, Friday was our weekend, like Sunday. Sometimes on Fridays he would pick up Mr. Grikor and take him for lunch at our house. Mr. Grikor was his third cousin and friend of my grandpa, as well as the only witness and member of the group of friends who went with him to America. Even though I was a child, I, like my dad, was interested to hear his stories of being in America with my grandpa. They didn’t have an easy time in the US, since they lived there during the Great Depression, one of the most difficult periods of American history. When they were settled in Detroit, it was hard to find a job. One thing I found interesting about their journey was how easy it was to become a US citizen back then. All my grandpa did was simply pay one dollar, raise his hand, and take an oath.

While my grandparents on my father’s side were in Iran, my grandparents on my mother’s side were in another part of the world – Russia. They had a good life during the Tzar, however, they were forced to go back to Iran after the Russian revolution. My two grandfathers from my mother and father’s sides died shortly after they returned to Iran.

TA B R IZ , IRA N ( L ATE 1 9 4 0 S ) — M Y PATE R N A L GRA N D M A , PA RA N Z E M , R IGH T, A N D H E R M OM , NANA.

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My mom and dad grew up in totally opposite situations. My dad was born in a relatively wealthy family in Maraghe, even though he was hardly supported by his own dad because of Arakel’s early death. Yet he experienced a comfortable and happy standard of living in my grandparents’ house. He went to primary school and high school surrounded by many friends, having an overall fun lifestyle. My mom, on the other hand, had the most difficult childhood. She grew up in Russia and was forced to leave the country in the third grade and immigrate to her parents’ hometown in Iran, Salmast, not too far from Maraghe. Her family left Russia empty handed, since the government took all their belongings. Even when they had reached the border of Iran, the Russian border patrol grabbed and pulled the cross from my mom’s neck. When they arrived at their hometown, it was a disaster. The region had experienced a severe earthquake, which totally destroyed her parents’ house. On top of that, the region’s flooding and rain made them nearly homeless. My mother was only ten years old, the youngest in the family, while her middle brother, Ashot, was fourteen, and her eldest brother, Anoushavan, was seventeen.

A R M AV IR , R U S S IA ( 1 9 2 7) — M Y M OM , S H OU S H A N IK , O N TH E R IGH T, H E R YOU N GE R B R OTH E R , AS H OT, IN TH E M ID D L E A N D H E R OL D E R B R OTH E R , A N OU S H AVA N , ON TH E L E FT. IN 1 9 2 7, TH E B OL S H E V IK S H A D COM E TO POWE R A N D FOR M E D TH E S OV IE T U N ION , TODAY A R M AV IR IS IN R U S S IA .

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TB IL IS I SA L M AST

TA B R I Z M A RAG H E

M Y FATH ER AN D PAREN TAL GRA N D PA R E N TS , PA RA N Z E M A N D A RA K E L , L I V ED I N M ARAGHE. GRAN DPA ARAKE L TRAV E L E D TO TH E U S A N D E V E N L IV E D I N DETROI T FO R A T IME. MY MOTH E R ’S FA M ILY L IV E D IN A R M AV IR , R U SS I A , WHI C H I S S LIGHT LY N ORT H A N D IN L A N D FR OM S OC H I, JU ST OFF T H E BOUNDAR IES O F T HIS MAP. W H E N TH E Y WE R E FOR C E D TO L E AV E R U S S I A BECAUSE OF T HE S OV IET REVO LU TION , TH E Y M OV E D TO SA L M AST, A N A R E A REC ENTLY DEVASTAT ED BY EA RTH Q UA K ES .

With the help and financial support of the local church, her two brothers built a temporary shelter for their parents and sister and immediately started working in a flour factory to aid the family. Shortly after, my grandpa got sick and passed away in front of my mom’s eyes. She was only ten years old. Even though her brothers sent her to school and took care of her, she still had to work, doing needle work to contribute to the family.

In her early twenties she moved to Tehran and rented a small apartment with her family.

Although my mother couldn’t continue her education, she always had a desire to learn.

She started taking private French lessons from Mrs. Emma, who was educated in France.

Many years later that same tutor started to teach me French.

My older uncle, Anoushavan, became manager in a well-known liquor factory in Sari, in north Iran, and would later build the first movie theatre there around 1947.

Unfortunately, he died when I was about two years old, which posed as another disaster for my family, especially because I had been told he was the most passionate and caring person in the family. I know he loved me very much. He gave me my very first musical instrument, a harmonica, which I still have today.

My younger uncle Ashot was very interested in languages. During his two years in mandatory military service, he learned English and French. After he completed his service,

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he was hired to work for the Iranian railroad. In the 1930-40s, the Iranian government was building a railroad across the country and hired many people, especially those who knew English. My future in-laws also used to work there and got to know my uncle very well. It turned out that my wife’s uncle, who was also a railroad worker there, was my uncle’s best friend. We found out after we met. My uncle used to say, “[In] anything you do in life, you have to become the best in it.” He was best at speaking different languages.

With only an eighth-grade education he had received in Russia, he was awarded one of the highest positions in the Iranian Ministry of Transportation, acting as the head of the entire translation department and assistant to the minister.

T EHRAN , IRAN ( 1 9 4 9 ) — I A M ON E YE A R OL D

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In the 1940s, my mom’s family were living in Tehran and my dad was living in both Tehran and Tabriz. The story of how my dad met my mom is a very romantic one.

One of the popular districts of Tehran called Yousefabad, is an area heavily populated with Armenians. On several occasions, my dad saw my mom walking home on Naderi, the famous street. He never talked to her, but finally one day, as my dad was getting his shoes polished, he saw her coming. He left the shoe polisher’s chair with only one shoe polished and followed my mom and tried to talk to her.

My dad had strong speaking skills, a strength that allured my mom. He liked literature and poetry. He liked to write.

These interests helped my dad open up the conversation between him and my mom.

He walked with my mom all the way to her apartment, talking with her. He promised to bring her a book he liked when he saw her again. It TE H RA N , IRA N ( 1 9 4 8) — M E A N D was his charm and power of M Y H A PPY M OM speech that impressed her.

After my parents got engaged, my dad traveled back and forth from Tehran to Tabriz to bring my grandmother and great-grandmother to Tehran in order to establish a new home. They got married in 1945.

It was a small ceremony at my dad’s aunt’s house.

My dad had just started working as an accountant at his auntie’s husband’s office.

He eventually rented a small apartment for himself and his family, including his new wife, my grandma Paranzem, and my great-grandma, Nana. A year after they married, my mom had given birth to their first son, Ara. However, his life was not long. Six months after his birth, Ara got sick with uncontrollable diarrhea and passed away. Years later, my mom would blame my dad’s cousins for my brother’s sickness since they stayed with 10

TEH RAN , IRAN ( 1948) — ME WITH M OM A N D GRA N D M A PA RA N Z E M

him for several weeks in my parent’s house while visiting Tehran. The pain and grief of losing her first child plagued my mother for her entire life. Today, I feel that their loss had affected my upbringing too, since my parents became extra-cautious raising me. I was born two years after my brother died. Since I was the first child among both of my parents’ families, I assume my whole family was very excited and hoped for a healthy child. I feel I benefited from this extra attention.

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A Little Bit About Iran

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n the late 60’s and 70’s Tehran, which is the capital of Iran, was quite advanced in many ways. New universities were being opened and many foreign companies started to invest in Iran. The country headed towards modernization. Iran, being a big country, was lucky to have many natural resources, but the most important one was petroleum deposits — oil and gas. Many factories started to operate throughout the country and quality of life started to improve.

There were fancy new restaurants and clubs had been opened which were classy and elegant. Even though Iran was a Muslim country, it wasn’t strict in regard to following Islamic traditions. They served liquors in most of the restaurants like western countries.

I was lucky to grew up in that period in Iran and especially living in Tehran, since in other cities the possibilities were limited.

I RAN I S A ST RAT EGICALLY LOCATE D COU N TRY WITH A N A B U N DA N C E O F NATURAL RES O URCES .

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Tehran, being in the north part of Iran, has four full seasons. Winter was really cold and there was snow. We could go skiing within a two-hour drive from Tehran.

Summer was really hot, that’s why for most summers we would go to vacation homes on the outskirts of Tehran where the weather was cooler. We were a four-hour drive to the Caspian Sea, one of the biggest seas in the world. There were many lovely cities there near the water. The Caspian Sea was, and is, famous for having the sturgeon fish, which gives the best caviar in the world. I enjoyed eating fresh caviar when we were traveling to city of Pahlavi near the Caspian Sea. It was very tasty, especially when you had it for breakfast over butter on crispy bread. Since it was quite reasonable there, we could afford to buy this luxurious treat. The other city north of Tehran in Azerbaijan region was Tabriz, where my mother side of the family lived. My dad and my wife Catherine’s mom also grew up there. Tabriz is very close to the border of Iran and Armenia.

In the south of Iran near the Persian Gulf there is another interesting city called Abadan. Most of the oil production industries were there, and the culture of the city was totally different. Most people could speak English there, since they worked in the oil industry and there were more exposed to English-speaking foreigners.

In southwest Iran, are the two famous cities of Isfahan and Shiraz. I had the chance to visit both cities a few times. These cities were the most historical cities of Iran, and also the most visited by tourists. Persepolis, near Shiraz, was an area of the Persian empire, and its historical palaces date from 2,500 years ago. I also found part of the palace in the basement of the Louvre museum in Paris few years ago when I visited.

Many famous Persian poets also came from this region.

When I was a teenager and studying piano, I was fortunate enough to watch a piano recital in Persepolis. The pianist was Arthur Rubinstein, a Polish American classical pianist, famous for his interpretation of Chopin. He performed in the Shiraz Art and Music festival.

THE C I TY O F PERS EPO LIS IS O N E OF TH E WON D E R S OF TH E A N C IE N T WO R L D

Armenians originated with the Hayasa-Azzi tribes and have a recorded history of about 3,500 years. Culturally, we have had our ups and downs, and our relationships with other groups have sometimes been friendly and sometimes not. Islam started in

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700 AD, and although Iran is known today as a stronghold of the Shi'a Muslim faith, it did not become so until around the 15th century. The Safavid dynasty made Shi'a Islam the official state religion in the early sixteenth century. Shah Abbas I, considered the strongest ruler of the Safavid dynasty in Persia, relocated an estimated 500,000 Armenians from his Armenian lands during the Ottoman-Safavid war of 1603 – 1618 to an area of Isfahan called New Julfa, named after the original Julfa, in what is now the Nakhchivan Autonomous Republic in Azerbaijan. New Julfa was created to become an Armenian quarter, and the Armenian subjects were relocated there and to the villages surrounding Isfahan. Iran quickly recognized the Armenians’ dexterity in commerce and it quickly became an important hub in the silk trade. This illustrates that Armenians have existed within the borders of what is now Iran for millennia, and also that being celebrated or persecuted as an ethnic minority is something that we have been dealing with for a long time. Many Armenians in Iran today came from this mass relocation in 1603.

SAI NT STEPAN O S , AN ARMEN IA N M ON ASTE RY, WAS B U ILT S OM E T I ME BETWEEN T HE 10T H N D 12T H C E N TU RY. IT IS LOCATE D A PPR OX IM AT E LY 15 KM NORT HW EST OF T HE C ITY OF JU L FA IN TH E PR OV IN C E OF E AST AZARBAI JAN , N ORT HW EST ER N IRA N . IT IS S ITUATE D IN A D E E P CA NYO N ALONG THE ARAXES , ON T HE I RA N IA N S ID E OF TH E B OR D E R B E TWE E N I RA N AND NAKHCHIVAN . T HIS IS T HE L A N D TH AT WAS L E FT AS A R M E N IA N S W ER E RELOCATED TO N EW JULFA. 14

Childhood EA R LY C H IL D H OOD

A

lthough dad grew up in a wealthy family, his mom and grandma only lived on what they inherited from his grandpa’s death and never thought to reinvest and make money. And since my own grandpa was a teacher and had left for America, he never created any wealth during his marriage. My mom used to say that my dad’s family regularly sold their real estate and only lived on that. When my parents got married, they were unable to own their own house and had little money. My dad just rented a small studio near his auntie’s house. Dad didn’t have a car - this was 1948 and having a car in Iran was still uncommon, but his cousins had a car and would give mom a ride if she needed one. They would also take her to their home so she would not have to be alone while my dad was at work. Later, when my dad brought his mom and grandma from Tabriz, since extended families were supposed to live together, my dad rented a twobedroom apartment for the family.

T EHRAN , IRAN ( 19 4 9 )

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TEHRAN, IRAN ( 1950) — I’M SITTIN G ON M Y GRA N D M A’S L A P. M Y OL D E R U NC LE ANO US HAVAN IS O N T HE L E FT, TH E N M Y M OM . N E X T TO GRA N D MA I S M Y YOU N GER UN CLE AS HOT. TH E Y B OU GH T TH S H OU S E WITH TH E M O NE Y THAT U N CLE AS HOT WO N IN LOTTE RY; IT WAS A S IN GL E-STORY, S M A L L H OM E.

At the time I was born, my parents were already renting their second apartment since they’d gotten married. When I was only a year old, my mother heard me crying very hard. When she arrived from the other room to calm me down, I pointed toward the door insistently. I couldn’t talk yet, but my actions communicated to my mom that I wanted to be taken out of the room. As soon as she left the room with me in her arms, the ceiling of my room collapsed, destroying my bed completely. Ever since then, I have come to believe that I have strong perceptions.

Our family’s residence, from what I can remember as a five-year old child, was on Ziba Cul de Sac, a great location to play with the neighborhood kids. We lived there until the end of my tenth grade of school when I was sixteen years old.

When I was about four years old, my mother had another loss. She was six months pregnant when she lost a son. Because I was so young, I hardly remember anything about it. I only remember my mom not coming home for a couple of days. Later as I got older, I found out what happened. When I asked my mom about her loss years later, she said it was painful, but did not compare to the loss of her first son. Four years later, when I was eight, my brother was born.

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I was left in the care of my grandma for several days when mom was recovering from my brother’s birth. I loved staying in my grandma’s house since she treated me very well, especially when she would buy strawberries from street vendors. At the time, strawberries were considered an expensive delicacy, so I felt very special.

My parents named my baby brother after their first son. Ara was a good-looking boy, better looking than me, something he even knew as we were both growing up.

Recently, in the middle of an argument, he told me I was jealous of him since he was more handsome than me. At first, I thought he was joking, but he was serious! However, I do not think I was ever jealous of him. When I thought about it, it was hard to compare myself to my brother with our eight- year age gap.

My first memory of school is of my principal’s happy face from kindergarten.

Mrs. Hersik was a heavy lady with a beautiful smile and TE H RA N , IRA N ( 1 9 5 4 ) — M E , S PR IN G OF 1 95 4 , a sweet, loving personality.

AT S IX YE A R S OL D I think that is where my personality and character was established. My mom told me that they first took me to Mrs. Elbis’s kindergarten, a principal who was the total opposite of Mrs. Hersik. I did not like to be there. On the other hand, my brother enjoyed going to Mrs. Elbis’s kindergarten.

At the time, you had to be seven years old to start the first grade. And since I was born in November, I was a few months short from being seven and had to go to kindergarten for one more year. I loved my kindergarten, especially our break time.

Before lunch, they would give us slices of baguette covered in butter and sugar for our snack. I loved the head of the baguette and it is still my favorite part of the bread today.

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TEH RAN, IRAN ( 1953 ) — PRE-S C H OOL IN M R S . H E R S IK ’S K IN D E R GA RT EN I’M IN 1ST R OW, 2 N D FR OM R IGH T

I once had a scary experience in kindergarten. One morning during break time as we were playing in the schoolyard, I saw a pine cone on a fir tree. It was a large and beautiful pine cone and I decided to bring it down from the tree. I threw a brick towards the cone. As the brick fell back, it landed on the head of one of my classmates. I was afraid because I saw blood on his head, but fortunately he wasn’t as hurt as I thought. He turned out to be okay. However, this action of potential harm and pain of hurting others impacted the rest of my life.

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A N E X A M PL E OF M Y DA D ’S WR ITIN G ( TRA N S L ATION ): M AY 3, 1 9 5 3. BA L M AS K E PA RTY FOR M R S . H E R S IK ’S K IN D E R GA RTE N AT A R M E N IAN C LU B . H E ’S FOU R Y E A R S , FIV E M ON TH S , A N D E IGH TE E N DAYS .

TEHRAN , IRAN ( 1954) — K IN D E R GA RTE N , I A M ON TH E FA R L E FT

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TE H RA N , IRA N ( 1 9 5 4 ) — K IN TE R GA RTE N WITH M Y M OM , L E FT, A ND M Y FIR ST TR IK E , NE X T PAGE .

At Mrs. Hersik’s kindergarten, we always had fun events whether for Armenian Christmas or the New Year. Singing, dancing, and dressing up in costumes were a major part of these events.

My parents always followed my daily activities and tried hard to keep me both happy and healthy. I was about five years old when my dad bought my first tricycle. It was a white tricycle with a basket in the front where I could put all sorts of things in it. I loved it so much.

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M Y FIR ST FR IE N D S

Rombik was one of the first friends I made. He lived about twenty minutes walking distance from our house and was my classmate from first through second grade at the Armenian Koushesh school. Even though he lives with his family in France now, we still stay in touch with each other. I visited him a few years ago and one night, we began to talk about our childhood memories. I asked him what he thought of those days, specifically what he thought of being my friend. He told me that he was a little jealous of all my toys and the lifestyle I had. It was funny since I was also jealous of the kids on my father’s side of the family who had much more than me.

TEHRAN, IRAN ( 1956 ) — W IT H M Y B EST FR IE N D R OM B IK , ON M Y L E FT, A ND H I S SIST ER MARIKA, O N MY R IGH T, IN TH E C U L D E SAC BY M Y H OU SE

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TEHRAN , IRAN ( 19 56 ) — M Y COU S IN ’S B IRTH DAY. I A M AT TH E HEAD O F T HE TABLE. TO M Y R IGH T IS M Y M OM , H OL D IN G M Y BR OT HER ARA, AN D TO M Y L E FT IS M E D IK .

My second cousin’s house was a mansion compared to ours. Every time I went to their house, I became more impressed about their lifestyle, their backyard, their midcentury mansion, their interior decoration…even the food they served! They had the best chef – Mr. Ovanes – who we also used in our parties. My grandma would ask her sister Arousiak to send him to cook for our family events, but he wasn’t very comfortable in our kitchen because we didn’t have proper equipment and space for his meal preparation compared to my aunt’s kitchen.

Medik was a beautiful, classy, and sweet lady. Many years later, I met her in Los Angeles. We were talking about different things when I asked her if she drove around in Los Angeles. Her face dropped and answered no. She told me that after she got married, her family never gave her the chance to learn how to drive since the family driver always took care of that. It was very interesting to me since I was always impressed by her lifestyle. It had never occurred to me that there were some downsides to their luxury.

I think on some level my distant family’s prosperity gave me the vision and the courage to seek and obtain the things I wanted despite having limited resources. When

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I was able to get the things I wanted, even during unfavorable circumstance, I felt great pride and joy in myself and my resourcefulness.

In the months of December and January, I always tried to make our apartment beautiful. In Iran, when I was growing up, the Armenian community was not used to celebrating Christmas, but rather New Year’s Eve and the sixth of January, Armenian Christmas. On the eve of Armenian Christmas, Armenian families would prepare special dinners. They cooked fish, kuku (veggie quiche), and rice. They brought small, round crispy bread that was bought from and blessed by the church. Even today, we still celebrate that evening with the same traditions. It was also a tradition to have the priest and his assistant to visit every Armenian family and bless their home and meal on January 6 and at Easter time.

One of the most fun things for me and my family was going out to buy a fresh Christmas tree. They would sell those trees on the sidewalks of a few major streets during Christmas and New Year. Every year during the holiday season, my mom and dad would take us to go and buy a fresh tree. We would bring it home, with some difficulty, but once we had it in place my mom would decorate the tree with my brother’s and my help. At the same time, I would be working hard to make the most beautiful decorations for my brother’s birthday on the first of January. I would make arches on the top of our staircase and hang the light fixtures I made with metal. I made holes for the light to shine from the inside. I took it to the iron smith for welding, turning it into a square tube with electrical wiring to create holiday spirit. I paid attention to the detail aspects of my work. If I didn’t have the proper tools, I sought the help of different business owners in our neighborhood

TEHRAN , IRAN ( 19 57) — WITH M Y B R OTH E R D U R IN G N E W YE A R 24

T EHRAN , IRAN ( 1 9 57) — WITH A RA A N D M OM

to help me finish my projects. Carpenters and iron smiths aided me in their little shops and helped me complete them. Seeking their help exposed me to deal with different kinds of people at an early age.

My parents always supported my visions and allowed me to create them. I wanted to make our events as elaborate and unique as possible while spending the least amount of money and with the most creative approaches. I was always excited to create unique things and this drive to create has always been an important part of my life.

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S C H OOL A N D PL AY

I had a variety of fun things to do during my childhood. My dad wanted me to learn and experience everything. One time, my parents took me to the recording studio so they could record the first few poems I had learned by heart when I was about five years old. I wish I still had the recording today to share with my own family. We had a balcony in front of our bedroom, one of my memorable playing spots. I would climb from our balcony to the neighbor’s balcony to get my ball whenever it fell there. I would play glass balls with the neighbor’s kids and play with tamarind seeds and ride my tricycle.

Although not every upscale family allowed their kids to play out in the streets, I wanted to take part of those games. And I became good at playing in the street! I could only play with some kids, since most of the parents of my close friends would not allow them to play out in the street. I collected stamps, swam, fished, climbed trees, planted different vegetables, painted, boxed, played tennis, rode horses and skateboards. I traveled. I tried all sorts of things when I was younger, either after school or during the summertime.

Ever since I was a child, I enjoyed building cozy shelters for myself. I loved to drape a blanket over a couple of chairs and create a sort of room for myself, submerging under my makeshift home and play or even rest. As I was eight years older than my brother, he was not an ideal candidate for a playmate. I had several friends and playing

TE HRAN , IRAN ( 19 56 ) — ON TH E BA LCON Y. I A M ON TH E L E FT W IT H MY BEST FRIEN D R OM B IK A N D H IS S ISTE R M A R IK A .

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TEHRAN, IRAN ( 19 57) — ME AT N IN E YE A R S OL D WR ITIN G. TH E PE N C IL B OX P I CTURED O N T HE LEF T WAS BOU GH T AS A B IRTH DAY PR ES E N T FOR M E . I SAW THI S P ENCIL BOX, W IT H LIT T L E D RAWE R S AT TH E FR ON T, AT A N E XC LU S I V E STATI ONA RY STORE. I WAN T ED IT V E RY BA D LY, B U T IT WAS E X PE N S IV E. MY M OM ASKED OUR FAMILY F RIEND S TO B U Y IT FOR M E A N D WH E N I R EC E I V E D I T, I WAS V ERY HAPPY.

partners, those who I only played with outside on the street with and some who I played with inside our house. But because my activities were so vast, it was hard to find a proper partner for all my activities. It was also hard to introduce my friends to some of the games I liked to play, especially ones that involved playing on the street, since their parents thought it wasn’t proper or classy.

When I was eight years old, my parents sent me to ballet classes. And even though I decided to quit, my parents were always supportive of what I did. A year later, when I was nine years old, my dad took me to a well-known tennis teacher to teach me how to play tennis. He was a friendly and strict Armenian man named Andranik. I liked playing tennis. At the same time, my mom and dad bought me my first accordion – a red Hohner.

My accordion teacher was a fifty-year-old Armenian man named Mr. Arshavir. He was a member of the Tehran symphony orchestra and he played the trombone. He was a serious and kind of strange man. My mom also joined my accordion lessons. She claimed she joined my lessons to support me, but later I began to think that she started playing the instrument only because her sister in law also played the accordion. Either way, we had fun learning music together like the pop songs of that time. I continued to take those lessons for a few years until I found a much younger and more dynamic accordion teacher. I later shifted to the classical piano.

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When I got my own room at eleven, my parents ordered a black upright Steinway piano from Germany. It had been imported by an Armenian man who also brought another piano for our other family friend. My mom never wanted me or her family to be behind in anything, so she always tried hard to be the best and provide the most for me. The piano cost them two thousand dollars; the monthly rent for our apartment was seventy dollars at the time! After buying that beautiful black piano, my mother insisted that I start taking lessons with one of my dad’s cousins, Lidoush. She was married to Emmanuel Melik Aslanian, a composer and pianist who studied in Germany. Both taught piano lessons. We went to their house and after some talk, Lidoush told my parents that it wouldn’t be a good idea to get lessons from a family member for whatever reason.

Although I felt she was maybe right, my mom was offended and felt bad. Finally, my mom found a great teacher named Mrs. Pilossian. She was also educated in Germany and Austria and a teacher to the Royal Family. I studied classical piano until I was nineteen, learning important pieces like Sabre Dance by Aram Khachaturian, Rondo Alla Turca by Mozart, and many others. Princess Farah Diba, who later became the queen through her marriage to the king, was another student of Mrs. Pilossian.

Our apartment at the time was on the second floor of a two-story house. If you took the stairs, you would see a door to our apartment. Through it was a square-shaped lobby and on the left was our large room, which we used as both a living and dining space. Inside on the right, there were French doors that opened to our bedroom. Even after my brother was born, we all slept in the same room. Looking back, I can imagine how hard that could have been for my parents. From the hallway there was an entrance

T EHRAN , IRAN ( 19 4 9 ) — M OM LOV E D M E S O M U C H

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TEHRAN, IRAN ( 1957) — ME ON TH E FA R L E FT WITH M Y B R OTH E R A N D T WO OF M Y SECO N D CO US IN S N EXT TO H IM . B IRTH DAY PA RTIES M A D E Q U ITE A N I M P RESSION O N ME W HEN I WAS GR OWIN G U P

to two other bedrooms as well as a bathroom, shower and a laundry room. My grandma (my dad’s mother) occupied one bedroom while the other bedroom was rented out by my parents to another family. These tenants were a brother and sister in their thirties. We all shared the bathroom and the kitchen, but the latter was rarely used since they were always eating out. I don’t remember ever feeling uncomfortable with our living situation.

When I was eleven years old, my parents decided to keep the rented room for me as my bedroom. I guess my dad had started to make more money, although he never discussed money or his finances with us. It was kind of a confidential issue in our family — even my mom didn’t know how much my dad made.

At home I always had a great support system from not only my parents, but both of my grandmothers. Even though my grandma from my mom’s side did not live with us, she was always there for me. I never had the chance to see my grandpas (Arakel, on my father’s side, and Stephan on my mother’s side) since they both died at a young age. As they were fleeing Russia, my mom witnessed her father die from pneumonia when she was just ten years old. On my father’s side, his dad died after coming back from America.

He was in his late thirties and my dad was only four years old. On my father’s side, my grandma Paranzem always lived with us. She was a very nice, elegant and quiet lady. My 29

TEHRAN , IRAN — IN O U R B E D R OOM WITH M Y B R OTH E R , A RA

mom’s mother, Satenik, was also very sophisticated, classy, and caring, but was prone to worrying a lot. She lived with my uncle and spoke Russian fluently.

I spent many memorable moments with my Grandma Paranzem. The first movies I ever saw, I watched with her. In those days in Iran, specifically Tehran, most theaters were showing Indian movies. They were mostly love stories with lots of singing. And there was no television yet. She also liked to bake Armenian cookies, called nazouk. She would prepare them at home, and together we would take uncooked ones on the big trays to a bread and baking store near our house and used their oven to bake. I loved to bake with her. She would also take me to her sister’s house to play with my cousins. I was so impressed with their lifestyle. Maybe my competive instinct and desire for the finer things in life started there.

One of the painful memories that I have from that period is about removal of my tonsils. When I was a child I often had a sore throat. I’m not sure if my parents or doctor ever tried to give me antibiotics, but they ultimately decided to remove my tonsils. At the time, the popular thinking was that removal the tonsils was the right thing to do.

They even thought that they were a useless part of our body. Today, unless it’s critical, they won’t remove them. The universe has a purpose for creating anything, and the purpose of the tonsils are to protect the body from the viruses that get in our throats.

There was a well-known Armenian doctor at the time called Dr. Khalatian that did the outpatient surgeries. I remember visiting his office for a checkup on several occasions.

It was a morning that me, my parents and even Arous morkour, (my grandma’s sister,

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my great-aunt — “morkur” means “aunt”) went to the doctor’s office for the procedure. I still remember the painful injection in my throat by the doctor and finally the separation and the removal of the tonsils from my throat. I cannot forget the painful sensation of that removal. The fun part of that day was that the doctor told my parents “Give him ice cream” and “Today he can have a lot of ice cream.” Shortly after the procedure we went home.

I attended the most popular Armenian school at the time, the Koushesh School.

Koushesh means “attempt”. It happened to be a short walking distance from our house. The school was connected to the Armenian church and was at the center of the Armenian-populated sector of Tehran’s Ghavam Saltane square. We celebrated most of the traditional Armenian and Christian events at that church. The biggest holiday for the Armenian church is Easter, and ours did not disappoint. All the Armenian families, including mine, used to color eggs. This was very exciting to me since I could take a few eggs, go to the church and challenge others by hitting my egg with their egg to see whose egg would break first. When and if you broke the end of the opponent’s egg, you would win their egg. It was a fun Easter game.

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This particular neighborhood in the 50s and 60s was a center for Armenian-Iranian families. Everything – from church to schools to Armenian newspaper publishers to Armenian groceries was in that circle. It was a very convenient area to raise a minority Christian family in a majority Muslim country.

It was important to my parents that I learned to read and write Armenian. They tried to make me start the first grade when I was six and a half years old, but the school would not allow it. I had to continue preschool for one more year, so when I had finally entered the first grade, I was almost seven and a half years old. The school was populated with Armenian kids of different backgrounds. Each classroom had about forty students.

I had five or six friends from those years that would stay with me for the next fifty years.

I have distinct memories of my time at the Koushesh school. For instance, I remember the vice principle taking off his belt and running after a few students who were getting wild and violent. In second grade, I remember my music teacher telling me I would never be able to sing because I didn’t have a good voice. I never did sing after that. Another time, my Armenian teacher, Mrs. Paranzem, told my parents during an evaluation session that I’m indecisive – something that I have never forgotten. My parents were not very happy with the school, so they transferred me to the Meher Jordan school for the third grade. It was a more selective private school, and more disciplined.

Like the Koushesh school, it was very close to my house, so for the next four years I walked by myself to school.

It was fun to walk alone to and from school. Especially after school, when I could step into stationery stores and buy things that I needed for class. I still remember each of those stationery stores. There were four of them in our area. I liked shopping alone from that young age. There was one called the Behrouz stationary store that used to sell stamps too, and to me that was “collecting stamps,” especially Iranian stamps. It was so exciting to stop by there and check out the new designs. I have loved shopping in general since then, but as a kid I enjoyed discovering new things that came on the market related to schooling or clothing. When I noticed something especially nice, I wanted to buy it for my parents and my brother.

There was a little neighborhood restaurant that served wonderful mini-kebabs.

I still remember the taste of those little kababs that they served with lavash like a little sandwich; each sandwich had two of those little kebabs and after adding some chopped green potherbs and sumac it became really tasty. Sometimes I had those kebabs served on baguette bread; I would buy the bread and take it to the store and ask the owner to make the sandwich with that bread. The owner was a very serious and reserved person.

He hesitated to deviate from the standard format but with an unpleasant face, he would ask the guy in the smoky little room covered with glass to use my bread for the sandwich.

I loved the taste — especially with the cabbage pickles that were sold separately. The little restaurant was about one mile away from our apartment. Sometimes I used to go and get a sandwich in the evenings alone, and I never felt scared or threatened. It was a very peaceful way of life that I experienced growing up in Tehran.

The Meher school was established in the early twentieth century by Dr. Jordan, a missionary from America who also established the best high school in Tehran, which I later attended. The school was very large, separated into different compounds – an 32

elementary school for boys as well as a boys’ high school, a church, playgrounds and a soccer field. On the other side of the school was the girls’ elementary and high school.

The Meher school covered several blocks. It was a Christian school, so the teachers took us to its church. There, we prayed and studied Bibles which were translated into Farsi. It was the only period in my life where I read and studied the Bible. Our school consisted of only around twenty percent Armenian students, whereas the rest were Jewish or Muslim.

Some converted to Christianity, and even though the rest were not Christian, they still had to attend church ceremonies and read the Bible. I thought that the community was very open minded at the time.

I had my first crush in the sixth grade. She was a beautiful girl with blond hair and blue eyes. She was my age and went to the girls’ side of my school. She was Assyrian Iranian, but I never talked to her. I always dreamed that I could get to know her. After sixty years, I still remember her beautiful face – and even the spot where she stood when I saw her for the last time.

I was a busy child, so sometimes I would need help in my school subjects. Whenever I felt like I might not get a good grade, I would ask my dad to hire a private tutor from my

TE HRAN , IRAN —MEHER E L E M E N TA RY S C H OOL S IX TH GRA D E , I’M IN T HE 2N D ROW, STA N D IN G 3R D FR OM R IGH T. 33

PA H L AV I, IRA N ( 1 9 5 9) — S U M M E R VACATIO N WITH M Y FA M ILY AT TH E CAS PIA N S E A

school to come to our house and help me. I always had the best tutors, thanks to my dad.

He provided me with the morale and financial support to both do well in school and have fun in life.

During those years, my parents and a few other families would rent a summer home with a pool so we could spend three summer months in the outskirts of the city, where it was cooler and had huge playground. Our rented summer home had an enormous yard with many trees I could climb on. It was the perfect place to enjoy nature. I could pick walnuts from the trees, plant vegetables, build little houses made of brick, hike, and make dry fruit tarts by squeezing different types of fruits and letting them dry under the sun. My mom taught me how to sew, so I learned how to make colorful napkins and tablecloths from different fabrics. I would play with my best friends. It was wonderful.

We also did a lot of traveling during those summers. Some holidays, my parents would take me and my brother to the Caspian Sea for a few weeks. Most mornings 34

everybody would still be asleep. But around 5:30 or 6:00 in the morning, I would go to the shore, rent a small boat, and go fishing with the boat’s owner. It was an interesting experience for me to arrange a financial deal between me and that local boat owner. I had a great interest in fishing when I was ten. I usually navigated since I already knew where the best and biggest fish were.

Besides my interest in fishing, I wanted to learn how to shoot. I insisted that my Dad buy me an air gun. But there were two occurrences during that time. The first time, I was practicing target shooting and then I shot a bird. It was a large crow and that prompted the rest of the flock to attack me in anger. It was a frightening experience. I remember running inside the house and shutting the door, with the birds continuing to attack the windows and doors. The second incident happened when I was at the summer house my dad built. I shot a little bird, injuring it rather than killing it. I tried to give the bird some water for it to survive. And it did live. That memory really touched me in a

YEREVAN

TABRI Z

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YEREVAN , T HE CAPITAL O F A R M E N IA , IS V E RY C LOS E TO TH E IRA NI A N BORDER. W HEN T HE RUS S IAN R E VOLU TION E X PE L L E D IRA N IA N -A R M E N I A NS FROM THEIR HO MES , MAN Y S E TTL E D IN TA B R IZ , L IK E M Y M OTH E R ’S FA MI LY. 35

bittersweet way. After that, I never tried to kill any bird or animal. I even stopped fishing.

Once, when we visited a home my dad’s auntie had rented for the summer, there was an incident that shook my parents to their core. They could have lost me. There was a Jeep parked in front of the house on a downward sloping road. I went inside the car, sat in the driver’s seat and pretended to drive. It was a manual shift car, so when I touched the stick, the car started moving and going downhill, speeding up quickly. But I was lucky. The car eventually came to a stop after hitting a big tree.

During those years, from when I was aged eight to twelve, I planned to do at least one project each summer and involve myself in activities where I could learn something new and possibly leave something behind. Our summer vacations usually lasted about three months. Although we spent most summers on the beaches of the Caspian Sea, we would also visit Tabriz, where my mom’s aunt and cousins lived. The trip was really fun and memorable for me since we would take the train. The journey included an overnight ride sleeping in a private train car and having dinner in the train restaurant while it rolled along was very interesting and exciting for me. My mom’s cousin, Marousia, and her husband had an art studio in Tabriz. They were both art teachers and very wellknown and respected in the city. This was where I was first exposed to art and painting.

Morousia’s husband studied art in Russia. But after the Russian Revolution, he became a refugee in Tabriz. Because Tabriz was so close to Armenia’s borders it became a hub for Armenian culture. However, travel to Armenia was prohibited during the country’s communist period. But prior to 1915, many Armenians traveled to and lived in Russia.

The Armenians that were exposed to Russian culture were able to speak Russian as their second language. They studied there and established successful businesses. But after the Russian Revolution, most of those Iranian-Armenians were pushed out.

Marousia studied art and painting from her future husband. They eventually married and moved into Marousia’s family home. They had four children together. I made great memories there. I attended their art classes, creating many paintings and drawings using mostly pens and colored pencils. I would continue my painting lessons in high school at another art studio in Tehran with afternoon art classes. There were around eight to fifteen students, usually young teenage children of well-known families from Tabriz. I was one of the youngest students there.

The rooms of their house were covered with paintings from floor to ceiling. They were mostly paintings of Marousia or other fine works crafted by their former students or old Iranian paintings. There was also a special gallery in their house which always remained locked. This gallery held the finest paintings as well as some other older Persian objects. Marousia’s husband’s painting were also stored there, along with a beautifully carved wooden cabinet. It was a huge, elegant room.

Marousia’s mom (my grandma’s sister), Almast morkur, was the head of the family.

Remember, “morkur” means “aunt” and for Almast morkur, it was practically a title. She was a very elegant and upright lady, well-respected. One day she told me do not spread my legs when sitting on a chair because it was not polite. I thought it was interesting how people cared so much about children acting respectfully. She was a great cook. She made very good estanboli (round small potatoes), fried. They were crispy, shiny, and very tasty. I remember that during the Muslim week of mourning, Ramadan, we were 36

not allowed to go outside the house on certain days. We would secretly watch through the windows though, and saw groups of men walking down the street without shirts.

Chains hit their back repeatedly, so much so that blood began to flow. To us those rituals were strange but accepted. We as an Armenian-Christian minority were taught to respect Muslim religious traditions. And in return, they also accepted our Christian traditions and Armenian culture.

I was also close to my mom’s other cousin Sarkis and his wife Knar. He owned a couple of movie theaters and his wife was a dentist. They were one of the better-known and respected families in Tabriz. Dzaz Sarkis – at the time, instead of “mister,” kids usually called their close male family members Dzaz – was one of the nicest men I ever met. He was very patient and sweet, a family man. Everybody loved him. His wife was also respected; she was educated and elegant. I would go to movie theaters and get dental work from this side of my family. Those dental visits were very painful since she used a drilling machine that was operated manually by foot. But fun usually followed soon after. We would go out and have lunch and see a movie at their theater. They had two

TEHRAN, IRAN ( EARLY 196 0 S ) — IN OU R A PA RTM E N T. I’M STA N D IN G S ECO ND FROM RI GHT, LEF T O F ME IS M Y M OM , N E X T TO H E R M E D IK , M Y SATENI K G RANDM A ( I CALLED HER ASH I M A M A , M E A N IN G “AS H OT’S M OM .” AS H OT WAS M Y UN CLE) O N T HE FAR L E FT IS TH E TA B L E L A M P TH AT I M A D E .

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sons, Mishik and Bulik. Mishik was several years older than I and very polite. Bulik was somewhat mentally disabled, and near my age. He loved the Shah of Iran very much, and he would talk about him all the time. He was such a fan that when he enthused about how good Mohammad Reza Pahlavi was, it almost became comical.

Unlike Marousia’s family, who lived in their ancestral home, the Sarkis family lived in an apartment complex that also doubled as a place for Knar’s dental practice.

Their building was in the tony central section of Tabriz surrounded by many different shops. There was a bookstore near their apartment building which I frequented. Almost all the books were in Persian. At the time, when I was in the third grade, I was reading books and magazines primarily in Farsi and some children’s books in English. But I also liked books about art, especially books about different woodwork. I learned how to make a complicated table lamp which took me almost a month to complete. (My brother would present my table lamp for his art class projects during his school years and both times got an A!) If somebody were to ask me now if I am a patient man, I’d show them my table lamp. It had almost a thousand little patterns that I needed to cut inside the wood. The detail process required intense focus.

Nobody asked me to do this project. I did it because I wanted to accomplish something. I wanted to know that I could do it. This vision carried me my entire life.

It showed me that I could do anything I wanted to, and it also helped me to encourage others. I was always looking for something new and interesting to challenge myself with.

My mom’s other cousin Rosa lived in Tabriz. Her family were in the wholesale liquor business. Along a cobbled street, they had a Manitoba-type house with a large backyard. I had lots of fun there – planting, painting, and crushing on their neighbor’s daughter. Their street was surrounded by both fancy, traditional villas and little onestory houses. There would be ladies sitting at the front doors of those small houses.

Although I didn’t devote a lot of thought to this at the time, on reflection I did find it a little questionable. Years later, I found out those ladies were in “the profession,” something that surprised me since it was the 50s and one of the most important cities in Iran. The community must have been rather open and comfortable to accept these businesses that were operating more or less publicly.

Rosa’s family were very educated. Her son Garik became one of the first Armenian lawyers that graduated in first place from Tehran University’s law school. In the 1950’s it wasn’t common among high school graduates to continue higher education and Tehran University was the only university in Tehran. His sister Lusik was also one of the first Armenian women to graduate from that university with a degree in engineering.

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My Dad

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y dad would always tell me when I was younger that I would never remember him after he died. But I’m sure he knows now how often I remember him and appreciate his love and dedication to our family. I don’t think I ever reached his level of caring. Even though he was a very romantic and passionate man, he would sometimes get mad too. I remember the first and only time he slapped my face. I was ten or eleven years old at the time. We were on the street. I think I made a comment opposite of what he was trying to say. The second time he ever got mad at me, I said something I now regret. But none of those things matter when I think of his caring, love, and dedication.

In Iran, we had a weekly children’s magazine that I liked to read called “Keyhane Bacheha, meaning “World of Kids.” Every week I would rush to buy it from the magazine stand and read it on my way back home. Dad loved to read too, especially Armenian poetry. The most famous Armenian bookstore, Sako Bookstore, was located across from one of the oldest Armenian churches. My dad used to go to Sako after work, taking me along sometimes. As he would look for new books the owner had imported from

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Armenia, I would look through the Armenian children’s story books. After World War II there was a travel ban between Armenia and Iran because Armenia was part of the Soviet Union. There were not many sources for Armenian products or books, but Sako was famous for having these hard-to-get products. That bookstore was also an important center for stamps since the owner was a stamp collector. I also enjoyed collecting stamps and had compiled several catalogues of old stamps from Iran and other countries.

Back then, collecting and dealing stamps was a popular thing to do among young kids.

Unfortunately, I don’t know what happened to all the stamps I collected. Because they were probably valuable, I think my parents sold them after I left the country.

Tabriz was a really interesting city in the 50s. It had a large, educated Armenian community. There was an old, traditional Bazaar and a park called Goulestan (the flower garden); these were places where families could gather in the evening. The people walking in the streets holding each other’s hands reminded me of Yerevan today. Unlike Yerevan, there were no cafés or Persian tea rooms like the Ghahve Khane (Starbucks), which were used mostly by working-class men. Tabriz was a very safe and nice place to live. It was the capital of Azerbaijan and had mostly a Turkish-speaking population. These IranianTurks were probably the smartest in mathematics as well as social/philosophical issues.

Most of my top math teachers in Iran were from this region. I thought their language was quite sweet. They were famous for their proper and perfect responses during conversations, especially challenging ones. I could even understand and speak

FROM EN CYCLO PEDIA IRAN ICA , A R M E N IA N S OF M OD E R N IRA N , IM AGES FO R ARM ENI A N S IN TABRIZ ( 2020) — M A R OU S IA , M Y M OM ’S COU S IN , IS T H E THI RD P HOTO IN T HE MIDDDL E R OW, H E R S ON VA RTA N IS S ECON D F R O M LEFT I N T HE BOT TOM ROW. HE IS M Y S ECON D COU S IN , ON C E R E M OV E D. 40

some Turkish. Even though Armenians and Turks lived in the same city for hundreds of years, social politeness ended at the front door of their houses. Moral issues were strong, so the line drawn between the Turks and Armenians was strict. For instance, if a Turkish man looked either in a bad or romantic way at an Armenian girl in the street the Turk could be punished by other Armenian guys.

In Marousia’s house in Tabriz, she would buy ser, or cream, with tasty red tomatoes and fresh bread early in the morning. We would have this for breakfast before she left to teach at the Academy of Art. I loved the taste of the cream. It was an exotic thing to me since we didn’t have that fresh in Tehran. I remember Marousia was known for eating very slowly, chewing the food well. Maybe that is why she had such a healthy life and lived to be almost one hundred years old.

Food and nutrition became a very important part of my childhood. At the summer home my parents rented, one of our neighboring family had lost their son because of cancer. Their other child, a daughter named Zhanet, was also diagnosed with leukemia.

Her dad, Mr. Arshavir, was eager to research and possibly find the cause of her illness.

Even though he was not and had never been in the medical field – he owned a little factory that produced kids clothing – Mr. Arshavir read books and traveled to different countries in Europe, interviewing cancer specialists. He began to believe the kind of food that we eat was one of the main contributing factors to cancer. As a result, he always preached to our family as well as others the damaging effects of eating animal products and cooked

TEHRAN, IRAN ( EARLY 1953 ) — AT OU R S U M M E R H OM E . Z H A N E T IS CA R RY I NG M Y BROT HER, I’M O N T HE RIGH T A N D M Y FR IE N D R OM B IK IS ON TH E L E F T. 41

food. (We never became vegetarian despite this) He later started writing books about “raw eating”. His books were translated and sent to leaders of many countries, hoping they would follow his food consumption. He hoped that communist countries would recognize the diverse savings from making unnecessary food products. He received many acknowledgments and awards from different countries for his research.

Unfortunately, years later, his daughter Zhanet died. Sometime after, him and his wife, Eleanore, adopted a baby girl. I remember when my parents took me for the first time to see the baby. They called her “Ano,” short for Anahit. Adopting a baby was quite controversial at the time. People also found it controversial that they raised her without any milk, cooked food or animal products. It was very unusual at the time and was the talk of all the families that knew them. However, in secret, his wife would feed Ano a piece of candy or cookie since it was quite odd and probably painful for Ano to be unable to indulge in sweet stuff like other children. She survived and became a very sweet, healthy girl. She never got sick.

In later years, Mr. Arshavir even established a little restaurant – the first healthy food or uncooked vegan restaurant in Tehran. It was success among educated people. He also heavily emphasized exercise and combined nutrition. Quite often he would run or walk many miles.

He even challenged me a few times to run around our summer home. He was fifty years older than me and thoroughly believed he could win. He was quite healthy and always believed he would live until one hundred thirty or one hundred fifty years old. He actually died in his late eighties from cancer. Summer vacations those days were very exciting.

It didn’t matter if we traveled to Tabriz or the Caspian Sea. My dad generally didn’t feel comfortable driving long distances, so he would ask a driver or a friend to drive and accompany us. In one of our trips to Pahlavi, Mr. Ashavir drove us. He began to eat an apple as he drove, and my dad became nervous, thinking it was not safe to drive and eat at the same time. My dad asked him to TEHRAN, IRAN ( MID-19 6 0 S ) — AT TH E TRAI N STAT IO N . MY MO M, B R OTH E R throw away the apple, but Mr. Ashavir ARA, AN D GRAN DMA SAT EN IK A R E ignored his request. My dad then took I NSI DE THE T RAIN . MY DAD, GRA N D M A the apple from him and threw it out PARANZEM AN D I ARE S EEING TH E M the window himself. Mr. Arshavir was OFF AS THEY JO URN EY TO TABR IZ . quite upset, and the action all took 42

us by surprise. We all tried to calm down the situation and justify my dad’s emotional condition, convincing Mr. Arshavir to let it go. Since childhood, the emotional condition of people always interested me. I wanted to understand why people act or say things in a certain way. I wanted to learn how to be helpful in resolving a complicated situation or support people in overcoming pain in a peaceful manner.

When dad would arrive home from work, he would usually be very hungry, so he would want to have his lunch right away. Most of the time, the food was so hot that my dad would burn his tongue, angering him. He was madder at my grandma and my mom for ignoring his request that his meal should not be so hot. He would get upset. Sometimes my dad would stop eating and leave the lunch table immediately. He wouldn’t talk to my mom for a couple of days. Eventually, I would be the one to go and try to convince my dad to forget and forgive her. Today, I believe that we should work to control our behavior as much as we can towards others.

I understand that it’s easier said than done, but we can try. There are certain steps that we can take. The first and most important one is to walk away from the space of conflict. Take our time, and when we’re relaxed, approach the other person to resolve the

TEHRAN, IRAN ( EARLY 196 0 S ) — M OM IS S ITTIN G IN TH E M ID D L E W I T H AUNTI E MART HA HOLDIN G MY COU S IN A RA M . I’M STA N D IN G B E H IN D MY BROTH ER ARA N D MY CO US IN GEOR GIK IS ON TH E R IGH T, S ITTIN G ON T H E SWI NG THAT I BUILT.

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issue. By doing that we bypass the heated moment and the emotion that we felt at that point. That emotion forces us to react most of the time quite unreasonably. It brings all our bad behaviors to the surface and forces us to say or do things that later on we might regret.

I remember my auntie Martha would complain about her husband to me. Even now, I still find it funny that she would share her marital issues with a twelve-year-old boy. Even so, I would listen to her and try to calm her down. She would talk about mature problems, like her husband’s failed promise to take her and her family to America. My uncle always had disagreements with his wife, and the Iranian Revolution eventually forced them to live separate lives. My uncle continued to live in Tehran while his wife, Martha, and younger son, Aram, moved to the US. He eventually came to the US when he was about eighty years old. He was not in good health and for a couple of years stayed in a convalescent home after having a stroke. He died two years later. I visited him once at the convalescent home in Fresno. It was really painful to see him in that condition. I remembered my uncle as a very healthy, active man. He never smoked, hardly drank, and rarely visited the doctor or took medication. He did have high blood pressure, like most of my mother’s side of the family, but he refused to take any medications, which is probably why the stroke hit him sooner.

My uncle’s older son, Georgik, was around my brother’s age. He was a bright guy and after high school he left for America to pursue a college education. He studied and lived in Iowa, disappearing from our family. The last time I saw him was at my brother’s wedding , 25 years ago. I’m still in touch with my cousin Aram, his brother.

Dad was always in search of new ideas to make extra money. During my early childhood years, he bought one taxi and then another shortly after, hiring drivers for them. It was an investment that brought in a daily cash flow. The drivers would come every evening to pay my dad. The taxi venture lasted about two years since it was not a very practicable business. You had to rely on the condition of the car and drivers, so my dad decided to get out of that business. At that time my dad did not have his own car. I was ten years old when he finally bought his first car, a used 1954 gray Plymouth. Later, he sold it for a 1954 Chevy. It was a unique green color. Even though it was a few years old, it was in great shape. He bought the car for 13,000 tooman ($2,000.00). Not only did we enjoy many wonderful family memories in that car, it became an important part of my younger years. It was the car I learned to drive in. At the time, most of our family friends still didn’t have cars, so owning this car was kind of like showing off our family’s financial success.

I also remember the day I went with my dad to buy our first television. Black and white TV had just became available when we bought ours. I was in sixth grade. It was a big consul with a nice wood cabinet. Our family also had an old turntable for playing records, powered by manually winding the record player. Purchasing these things – our first car, TV, record player, piano – made me proud and eager to show my friends, especially during birthday parties. My parents always made sure we were never behind on the latest technology and consumer goods.

After selling the taxis, my dad started to buy vacant land. One of the first parcels of land he owned was a 10,000 square-foot plot outside Tehran. It was a subdivision and 44

the deed was only for ninety-nine years. It became my dad’s first construction project.

Even though it didn’t undergo major construction, we still found it very exciting. Since there were no utilities, we used a well for water. It was interesting to watch the process of building a well. They started to dig the land in the north-west corner of the lot, with almost a three-foot diameter hole. As the construction-workers dug up the soil, the dirt was sent up in a rubber barrel until they finally reached the water sitting under the earth, after digging down about a hundred feet. There, after getting the water we decided to construct a pool, a one-bedroom suite in the lower part of the lot and another room on the north side of the land for our gardener and his wife. We built brick walls around the lot and installed a nice iron gate. It had become our newly built summer home. I became used to accompanying my dad to the property in the afternoons after he finished his regular job. Together, we would supervise the construction. My family had lots of fun at this newly-built summer house.

Although my parents were incredibly caring and protective, I was still quite independent. For example, I would go shopping alone. In my early childhood I liked

TEHRAN , IRAN ( 1958) — M E H E R S C H OOL 6TH GRA D E , I’M IN THE S ECON D ROW S ITTIN G S ECON D FR OM R IGH T. TH E R E WERE EIGHT ARMEN IAN S IN M Y C L AS S .

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fashion and wanted to dress well. I would buy fabric and take it to the tailor so he could make a suit for me. I was so meticulous about how to make it, like where to put the stitches and add detail, making sure the tailor would follow my instructions. I would go alone to buy gifts for my parents and the rest of my family with my savings. None of my friends that age would do stuff like that.

However, I should give credit to the social conditions of that time. We all felt pretty safe. Hardly anyone would have said or done anything that would cause harm.

It is probably due to the fact that we were in the minority, being Christians, so we were possibly more protected and received extra respect and love.

Before I graduated the sixth grade, we had one final assignment. My project, as usual, was a complicated one – by my own design. I came up with the idea of cutting up a map of Iran on wood, showing the different region’s products and industries. I painted the map a special green, mixing different shades of green until I finally found the right color that matched the map-book’s printed color. I stuck the pictures of different animals and products for each region on a wood board, cut them individually and glued them onto the map. I also installed lights under the map, making holes for the capital of each region, so each light would blink. I then made a wooden box with a glass covering for protection. This was one of the more complicated projects I ever completed. It was wellmade and the school put it up to exhibit for future students to see.

My best friends from that school were Farokh Azhir and Robert Babaian who are both in Los Angeles now. I talk to Farokh sometimes, but I haven’t had the chance to talk to Robert for a long time, even though I was the broker who helped him buy his first house in America. Outside school, I had friends who were older than me. My friends – Artoush, Emil and Varouzh – all lived in my neighborhood. I am still friends with them here in Glendale, California.

During the school period I also had some business activities. I remember searching in the drawers and boxes at home to find the silver coins that my grandma (Ashi mama) gave me and sold them to the coin and stamp stores. They were 10 Rials, old coins bigger than the standard size which was in circulation at the time. These coins were pure silver and around 50 years old. It was my grandma’s savings and from time to time she would give me a few of them. I sold them for 10 times more than their face value.

Occasionally I also engaged in another business dealing, which was to sell the unused medicine of our household. I would search in the medicine cabinets and the drawers of the bathroom cabinets to find the unused medicine and sell it to a well-known drugstore in our neighborhood, Normal Pharmacy. The owner of the store would count the pills and determine the value and pay me; now that I think of it, I wonder if he ever checked the expiration date or he even cared.

I was also collecting stamps, especially Iranian ones. We were buying and selling among the classmates and outside collectors. It was interesting to follow the value of the stamps and trade them at the right time. One of the major stamp dealers was the owner of Sako bookstore that used to visit quite often with my dad and check out the stamps that they had. I enjoyed collecting stamps between the ages of 9 to15, although as I got older, I developed other interests.

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Across from the Sako’s bookstore was the Armenian church and a couple of stores beyond that was a tailor shop owned by an old friend of my dad’s from childhood.

Sometimes, after the bookstore, we would visit the tailor shop for my dad to have a chat with his old friend.

In one of those visits when I was with him, his tailor friend told my dad that the next week he and his family were moving to Armenia for good. That news made my dad really upset. He was hurt that his friend had kept this secret for so long and didn’t share it with him. When I was a child during the Cold War, whoever had any connection with the Soviet Union, Russia today, liked to keep it secret and it was the same for Armenia.

There was a short period when the Russian/Armenian government allowed Armenians to immigrate from Iran. The families that did were generally the lower level of society financially or they were really patriotic and wanted to be in Armenia, their homeland, even though they were born in Iran. Soviet Armenia also providing free education and free housing and jobs to all the newcomers, being a communist country, so for that group immigration was a really attractive option. The issue was everything related to Soviet

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Armenia, including immigrating there, they kept secret worrying that something might happen that would affect them.

My dad also always dreamed of visiting Armenia, although not as a permanent resident, but just to see his ancestor’s country. That was impossible at that time; if you went there you couldn’t come back again. Unfortunately, he never had the chance to visit Armenia.

When graduation came, I had mixed feelings. On one hand, I was happy to complete one chapter of my life. On the other, it was sad to leave the space I had been in for a long time and to leave the friends I had made. In any case, I was nervous because I had to perform the Iranian assembly and monarchy song on the accordion with our school’s orchestra. Even though I made small mistakes, it was still a wonderful graduation event.

I always had anxiety when performing in front of others, but fortunately years later I learned to overcome that. At the end of graduation, though, something happened when I went to pick up my accordion. I pushed a door made of partial glass. As I opened it, the glass broke and my pinky finger was cut deeply. My mom took me to the hospital to get stitches — she called my dad to join us at the hospital and, as always, he was there for me shortly after.

I still remember that strange feeling, leaving my old school for good. It is that melancholy kind of sadness, when you realize in your heart that you will not see that space again. Especially when leaving your friends behind. The Meher Jordan School also had a high school in the same complex, and most of my friends, including Farokh, continued there, but I was transferred to Alborz high school. In 10th grade Farokh also came to Alborz, but we were not in the same classroom anymore. I was in the math group and he was in natural science. My friends in high school were a totally different group of kids. I’m still friends with them to this day.

The friends that you make in elementary school leave a profound and lasting memory. I guess it’s a matter of age. Those childhood memories touched me deeply, especially looking back as an older man through the lens of life experience.

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Alborz High School

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tarting high school was probably the most exciting chapter of my life. I remember the morning I went with my dad to Alborz High School to see if they would accept me. My dad had taken off the day from work since we had to be at the school at eight in the morning. He wanted me to attend Alborz High School very badly because it was the most difficult and prestigious high school in Iran. People who worked high-level jobs like government officials or scientists graduated from there. At the time, the high school taught students from the seventh to the twelfth grade. But from the tenth grade, you had the choice to take either math or natural science. Math was the most difficult subject, but opened up many career paths like engineering, medicine, or economics.

They were only accepting 270 students. The administrators of the school began to call students who had an average score of 20 – meaning they had received a perfect score in every subject. Only three students stood up. From then, the administrators went down the list of scores from 20, 19.99, and so on, but only up to 17. I graduated my elementary school with an average of 17.7, which was pretty good. Because of my grades, I was accepted at Alborz high school.

Alborz was founded in 1873 by American missionary James Bassett. Originally it was called the American College, but by 1940, the Iranian government had taken over and renamed it Alborz, after a famous mountain range north of Iran. My principal at the time was Dr. Mohammad Ali Modjtahedi, who later became the founder of the famous Sharif University.

I entered Alborz High School in 1960 and it became one of the highlights of my life. This institution has a prestige that carries over the rest of your life, but it is so much more than that. There are the experiences and the friends that you make. You learn how to succeed because you are surrounded by successful people. If you fail some point of

TEHRAN, IRAN ( 1873) — A L B OR Z H IGH S C H OOL , OR IGIN A L LY T H E AM ERI CA N CO LLEGE, WAS AMO N G TH E M OST B E AU TIFU L A N D PR ESTIGI O U S I NSTI TU T ION S IN IRAN . I WAS FORTU N ATE TO H AV E ATTE N D E D, A N D ST I L L FEEL THAT IT GAV E ME REMAR K A B L E OPPORTU N ITIES .

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your life it is short-lived because you know how to stand up again and turn the situation around. You have seen this example of success modeled by your teachers and classmates. You have knowledge, ability and connection.

I was used to speaking Armenian with my Armenian classmates at Meher school, since the population at my elementary school was predominantly Armenian. But at Alborz there were very few of us. It was a much more Persian environment with Farsi-speaking students. When I was in seventh grade, I had only one or two Armenian friends. The rest were Iranians. There were 14 seventhgrade classrooms, and because my last name was Yesayan, I was in the last of the 14. The school was huge, and the grounds covered a few blocks. I had to take the bus or walk thirty minutes because school was no longer close to my house.

TE H RA N , IRA N ( 1 9 6 0) — STA RTIN G 7T H For the first three years of high school, I was a very good student. My GRA D E . grades ranged between 16 to 19, or A to B. Outside school, I was involved in many activities. I continued my piano lessons, art classes, and my own projects. During those years I met Armik, who would later become the best man at my wedding, and Stephan, whose dad worked with my dad at the same office for many years. They both went to my high school and were seniors.

Outside of school, my best friends were Artoush and Emil. Artoush was my neighbor, who lived only a block away from my house. Emil lived twenty minutes away by walking. In the 1950s and 60s, most Armenian families we knew lived within a twomile radius. The Armenian school and church also were within that bubble, making a very close, tightly knit Armenian community. Everyone knew each other, even if they weren’t friends.

Although Artoush was about five years older than me, we were best friends. I was in eighth grade when he was about to enter university. During my teen years I often wished that I was older like most of my outside school friends. There were many activities I didn’t enjoy doing with friends in my age group, or they wouldn’t participate since they were too young. All the universities at the time had difficult entry exams and Artoush was the first friend I had who took the test. He went through the anxiety and stress of studying, and when the exam date finally arrived, I rented a car with a driver, bought a bouquet 50

of flowers and went to pick him up from the university. Although I couldn’t find him, I met him back on my way home and congratulated him for simply just doing the exam. I wanted to hold positive energy for my friends and family.

In junior high, I was interested in discovering and making many things, and that continued for my entire life. Having new ideas, creating T EHRAN , IRA N ( E A R LY 1 9 6 0 S ) — WITH M Y PA RTN E R S something and selling IN TOYWOOD ; L E VON A N D M Y GRA N D M OTH E R . it — that always attracted me. If I had an idea or a project to do nothing would have stopped me, it was just too exciting.

I always liked wood and wood products. I was 13 or 14 when I had this idea of making wood pieces of various shapes that kids could put together to make different structures. I designed some different shapes and forms, like cubes, rectangles, tube shapes and also wheels, screws and more.

Construction of these toys was anything but easy. I had to make these pieces, which were a few inches in length from boards that were approximately 7-10 inches wide by 10 feet long; something that you could only get in lumber yards. I visited the lumber yards after school and gave them the sizes that I needed. I asked them to machine sand the pieces, then took the rough-processed pieces to my home factory, which was in my Grandmother’s bedroom, for final sanding. I can’t believe that my poor grandma put up with all the mess that I created in her room. I guess she didn’t have much choice because she loved me. In this business, I had my first partner. Levon, who was three years older than me. He was son of our family friend and helped me in preparation and marketing.

I ordered stamps at the Bazaar (a Persian traditional TOYWOOD WAS V ERY MUCH L IK E TH S D ES IGN historical market) to print the 51

boxes with the name of “TOYWOOD.” At the time, we didn’t have a phone number to print on the boxes, much less a dedicated business line.

This was in he early 1960’s. We had limited possibilities in Iran. You had to create many things from scratch. Today, I’m thinking that what I could have done if, instead of Iran, I was in the US with its great potential and abundance of possibilities. My son once said “The potential of an individual’s achievement lies where we’re born and raised.” I enjoyed all aspects of the process of creating and developing my ideas basically from nothing, and thinking back I’m happy that I did. I’m surprised that my parents allowed me to go alone to those commercial and industrial places. I’m glad that they did, and that I experienced at that age dealing with all sorts of people and merchants, placing orders to make boxes, making personalized stamps and so on.

Finally it was time for marketing. I started to visit toy stores with the product samples, then supermarkets. At that time we didn’t have many in Tehran. The market for my product was limited, but I guess I tried the best that I could. In the meantime, my high school course work was getting harder and eventually I had to close down the factory and pursue my studies.

I remember being inside the classroom in eighth grade, when someone from the office called me out to inform me that I had won the first prize in painting. I did those paintings when I was twelve years old. I was invited to the ceremony with a group of the other prize winners in different fields. When the day came to receive our prizes, we all received our awards from not only the principal, but also the prime minister, Dr. Ali Amini, which was a big deal. The prize was an artbook signed by the prime minister. Our principal was a very well-known, educated and disciplined man. He was so respected that the Shah of Iran had assigned him to bring the best teachers and scholars from different countries back to Iran to establish an engineering university. They founded the university, now called Sharif, when I was in the eleventh grade.

When I graduated from ninth grade, I had three subject choices for senior high school – math, science, or literature. There was more career flexibility and more choices in math after graduation, but it was the most difficult subject to follow. I decided to pursue math in the tenth grade. I had more homework and my classes became more difficult, which I wasn’t ready for. My extracurricular activities also increased. I had my first girlfriend, but after six months we broke up, which deeply affected me. When we were together, I gave her a red rose every day. The red rose had to be a special one, a long stem, which generally were imported from Holland; very few flower stores carried them. I generally picked her up from school and we walked together to our homes. She lived about a block away from our apartment. I organized the first party of my teenage years at my friend’s house. It was a very fun event. Sometimes when we wanted to go to the movies or parties, she would ask to be accompanied by her cousin, who later become a well-known producer in Hollywood. We were too young to go to disco clubs, so most of our events were at homes. It was a fun period. I wasn’t wild but I was romantic, like my dad.

Once, for her birthday, I ordered a nice basket of red roses and asked the flower shop to deliver it to their house — delivery at that time in Tehran wasn’t a common thing,

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“

I was very sensitive and romantic, paid too much attention to details, loved to surprise others and make them happy; and I derived my happiness from theirs.

so I asked my friend to hide somewhere near her house and witness the delivery, then report it back to me. The delivery happened successfully, which made me very happy.

The school year in Iran was nine months, and if you failed a subject you had one more chance to pass the exam. Re-testing was scheduled after three months, during the summer. If you didn’t pass in any single subject you would have to repeat your entire course load from the previous year, including the subjects you did pass. Not only would you be one year behind academically, but it would also be seen as a big embarrassment for yourself and your family. You would be forced to repeat the same classes and be separated from your old friends and classmates, taking classes with students one year younger than you.

T EHRAN , IRAN ( EA R LY 1 9 6 0 S ) — DA N C IN G WITH M Y MO M AT A FA M ILY FR IE N D ’S WE D D IN G.

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At the end of the year, I felt like I failed three of my subjects. I didn’t complete the two exams for my other subjects. If I did participate in the exam and failed all five, I wouldn’t have the second chance of re-taking my exams and would immediately fail tenth grade. I had a really tough time that summer. I had to get ready for this one last chance for the exam and pass all five subjects, which was quite difficult.

The possibility of failure and embarrassment prompted me to review all the possibilities. I studied under the best private tutors and started to review. However, the feeling of failure plagued me, so I began to look at other options. There was a possibility that I could change schools, transferring to an easier high school, so I could have a better chance of passing. Yet, I would lose the advantage of being at the best school. I started to search for local schools to find out which one might accept me as a transfer. My dad was also following and supporting me during this stressful and emotional time. He went with me to these local schools to talk to the principals.

After doing quite a bit of research, I found out that it was not easy to transfer in Tehran, the capital of Iran. It would have been better if I had the chance to transfer to another city school and, after passing the exam at the end of the summer, transfer again to a local school. In order to go and check those schools, my dad took a week off from

TEHRAN, IRAN ( 19 6 6 ) — S UMME R OF TH E 1 0TH GRA D E STU DYIN G FOR T H E FI NAL EXAMS , T HIS PHOTO IS V E RY M E A N IN GFU L TO M E , I PAS S E D A L L T H E SUBJ ECT S OF T HE F IN ALS AN D WAS R E A DY TO GO TO 1 1TH GRA D E .

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work, which wasn’t easy for him. My dad and I started to visit several small cities close to Tehran to negotiate with those schools. I eventually came to the conclusion that it would not be easy to move, so I decided to study hard during the remaining weeks before my final exam at Alborz. Through hard work and lots of studying, I passed. It was the greatest experience of my life, and I learned how to depend on myself and stand on my own two feet. I gained a lifetime of self-confidence despite the pressure thrust upon me.

I remember getting the results on a summer afternoon, rushing home to give the happy news. My mom wasn’t home, but my dad was in the bathroom. I remember standing outside the door, informing him of my passing. My achievements always made him very happy. It was truly one of the happiest days of my life. I was so proud of myself.

The summer home that my dad made it for us served our family and friends well.

We all enjoyed spending our weekends there. Summer in Tehran was really hot and having a swimming pool was really great. I spent a lot of time there. I built different things for it, tried to make the place more beautiful and useful. I had my teenage year parties there which left me with many memories.

One weekend I had a swimming party and invited several of my friends, boys and girls. When I arrived, some of my friends were already there but they were faced with a big problem. Our gardener “Mash Karim” was very mad, had a piece of wood in his hand and was trying to fight with a couple of the boys. Fortunately, I arrived in time and called our gardener, who loved me very much, to tell me what was going on. He said, “These boys don’t have morals, and are playing with the girls in and outside of the pool.”

Our gardener was a Muslim man, and of course in their religion those acts were not acceptable. I tried to calm him down and as I took him away, I told my friends to be more considerate of the situation. You couldn’t have the activities that teenagers might do in Western countries, behave the same way in an Islamic country like Iran, even though it was a modern Muslim country. In some level you had to respect their traditions and religious beliefs, but of course that was more sensitive on the more fanatic social level of certain Muslim individuals. We used to go to night clubs and discos where the crowd was mostly Muslim and never had these kinds of issues, but working-class people were different. Fortunately, the gardener listened to me but also my friends became more considerate, and the issue was resolved.

During my early teenage years, Dad became interested in raising chickens. He bought an incubator that had room for about 80 eggs. You could place the eggs in the machine, and after 21 days being at the right temperature, the baby chicks will hatch out from the eggs. Dad had the workers build a big room for the chickens. The first experimental run was for a couple hundred chickens, which was quite successful; my dad made a good profit. He decided to expand the business by building additional space for raising more chickens, and he bought more incubators for producing more chicks.

Eventually, there came a time when we had two to three thousand chickens. Unfortunately, when the chickens grew up and were ready to be sold, there wasn’t enough demand and they couldn’t be sold profitably. The chickens started to grow big and got fat, my dad was asking the gardener to keep feeding them, and they became so fat that they could hardly move. Eventually, it reached to a point that my dad started to get anxious about how he could sell them. Every day that passed, they were consuming more food, which 55

meant more money was needed to buy the food, getting the whole enterprise further into the red. By observing my dad’s desperation, I decided to try and find a market for the chickens, and after putting some effort in, finally I found a buyer. I remember that happy day when the buyer arrived with a big truck to pick up all the chickens and pay for them. My dad was very impressed and pleased with my marketing success and for being supportive of him. I think he broke even in that business venture, but never invested in the poultry business again.

“

This experience taught me an invaluable lesson at age 16: persistence and hard work combined with research will eventually pay off.

When I was 18 years old, my dad decided to sell our summer home. It has been an indelible part of my childhood from the day he started to build until he sold. The buyer was a Persian lawyer; he couldn’t buy it for all cash, so he offered to pay half of the purchase price in cash and the other half in six months, after close of the deal. Since my dad was eager to sell, he agreed to the offer. At that time there were hardly any lenders

TEHRAN , IRAN ( 196 2) — AT TH E S U M M E R H OU S E WITH R OM B IK .

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in Iran that offered loans for real estate, so most transactions were in cash and, in some rare occasions, sellers would carry the loan. My dad was eager to sell, so he carried the loan and sold the property. After six months when the remaining balance came due, the buyer couldn’t come up with the payment or maybe he just didn’t want to pay, thinking that he’s an attorney and maybe had some extra power over my dad. Dad became afraid and aggravated that maybe he would never be able to collect the balance of the purchase price. My dad’s emotional condition affected me, so I asked his permission to go and talk to the buyer, the lawyer, and he agreed. I made an appointment with the buyer and went alone to meet him. In our meeting I tried to explain and make him understand the pain that he caused our family. After he heard my emotional speech he felt that he should consider more seriously his ability to come up with the balance of the purchase price.

Finally, he asked me for a one-month extension on the original payment date, to which I agreed. As he promised me, at the end of one month he paid the full balance. My dad was very happy and really appreciated my intervention in that matter.

I have to give some credit for my success in receiving the funds from the lawyer to the Persian romantic culture. I strongly believe that my passionate comments about the situation touched the lawyer’s heart and encouraged him to honor his promise and pay his debt. I was always appreciative of the romance and passion of Persian culture and their generous personalities, and I’m happy that I had the chance to grow up in Iran.

My most fun and memorable teenage years were the senior years of high school, 11th and 12th grades. Those two years of school were much easier for me than the tenth grade, so I had the chance to have more extracurricular activities. I took classical piano lessons, regularly attending piano recitals and concerts, and on weekends I would go to Armenian or regular dance clubs and events with friends. I also took painting and drawing lessons, which were also required if I was going to attend architectural school.

I also had my second girlfriend, and this relationship lasted three years. I found new friends, whose friendships have lasted to this day, and also kept the old friends. We gathered together almost every weekend. The last three of my teenage years were really good. I enjoyed everything that I could and I didn’t miss a thing. Couldn’t have been better.

At seventeen, I started to drive Dad’s car without a driver’s license - you had to be eighteen to apply. I couldn’t believe that my very conservative parents allowed me to drive without one! At that time, the punishment for driving without a license in Iran was six months’ imprisonment. I was really brave for doing that. I was even driving to school! Hardly anyone my age was driving. One day, when I was giving a ride to one of our teachers and a few classmates, the teacher said, “I can’t believe how someone your age might be driving without having a license.” No one told him, but he must have deduced it from my age. One day when I was picking up my brother from school, I got in a pretty bad car accident. He was in the third grade at the time, and as we reached a red light at an intersection, I rear-ended the car in front of me. Dad’s car, a 1954 Chevy was very sturdy.

It was damaged quite badly, but drivable. The driver of the other car was a middle-aged Persian gentleman. I got out of my car and apologized for my negligence, respectfully asking him to follow me to my house so my dad could arrange for his car to be fixed.

When he asked for my driver’s license, I lied, telling him it was not with me. When my 57

dad saw the car, he surprisingly didn’t blame me. After engaging in a little conversation with the other driver, dad called the body shop and arranged for the damaged car to be fixed at his own expense. The Persian man agreed and thankfully never asked again about my (nonexistent) driver’s license.

That same year I had another incident, this time with a police officer. I was driving through a famous quarter near my school called Ferdowsi Square (after one of Iran’s most beloved poets). I noticed a police officer writing tickets for the vehicle ahead of me. By the time I reached him, he stopped me and told that I must go and park in front of the other car until he finished issuing the ticket. I didn’t know what I had done wrong, but I followed his instructions anyway, driving forward and parking further down in front of the other car.

In my rear-view mirror, I watched him writing a ticket and that’s when I made the crazy decision to drive away. I thought, since he was busy, I could just leave and that would be the end of that. I pushed the gas pedal and left the square. But after a couple of minutes, I noticed in my mirror that he jumped onto his motorcycle and followed me. It was like a movie scene! After a short distance, I turned into a narrow street and immediately turned into a small cul de sac. I stopped, looking behind me to see that the police officer had passed through the narrow street, ignoring the cul de sac. For the moment I thought the danger was gone, but right when I came out of my car to go to my friend’s house on that street, the police officer approached me on his motorcycle. He asked me where I was going, and I replied that I was just going to my friend’s house.

Right when I said that, my friend Armik had come out of their apartment building, seeing me with the officer. The officer told me that I made T EHRAN , IRA N ( L ATE 1 9 6 0 S ) — M OM STA N D I NG a wrong turn in the IN FRONT OF TH E FIR ST CA R TH AT I D R OV E IN MY T EEN AG E Y E A R S , A 1 9 5 4 C H E V Y B E L A IR . square. He told me I 58

had angered him by running away from the scene, forcing him to leave the other driver and not complete their citation so he could follow me. At that point, he asked me to give him my driver’s license. I told him that I didn’t have it with me, irritating him further. He said, “Let’s go to your house, then.” At that point, I began a passionate speech about how busy I was with homework and how tough school was. Surprisingly, my speech worked, and he let me go without ever issuing a ticket.

This same year, I was driving with my girlfriend in the outskirts of Tehran and I stopped the car to enjoy the lights of the city. Suddenly, I noticed a man who looked like a gardener approaching my car with what looked like a baseball bat. He started to question me in a threatening way, asking me what I was doing there in the middle of the night with a girl. He asked if she was my wife. In a Muslim country like Iran, it was improper to have a girl with you late at night. I told him, no, she wasn’t my wife, but my girlfriend.

He demanded to see her ring. I said we hadn’t reached that point yet, angering him. I started a passionate speech about romance between a boy and a girl. I told him he had probably felt the same way at one point in his life and how he could have been in the same situation as we were then. After listening to me, I suppose he was touched by the things I said and let us go. From then on, I formed the belief that if you say something from the heart and speak the truth, it will touch the listener. Thus, they will be able to

TEHRAN, IRAN ( 196 6 ) — ALBOR Z H IGH S C H OOL 1 1TH GRA D E , FOR IRA NI A N NEW YEA R. S IN CE I WAS ALWAYS IN TO M U S IC , M Y C L AS S M ATES WOU L D AS K M E TO BR IN G MY ACCO RDION A N D C E L E B RATE H OL IDAY E V E N TS TOGE THER .

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empathize with you. In Persian there is a saying – “Whatever comes from the heart sits on the heart.”

Eleventh grade was great for me. My dad had bought our first family home twenty years after my parent’s wedding anniversary. Most of our family and friends didn’t have their own homes yet. But because the economy was moving in a positive direction and real estate prices began to increase, my dad decided to buy a house, paying in cash.

The money had come from other properties that he was buying and selling. In 1965, he bought the house for about $40,000. At the time, the exchange rate was one dollar to seventy rials. Today, exchange rates are one hundred and forty thousand rials to a dollar, about a two-thousand-times increase.

Our house was two stories. We had a basement with doors and windows towards the backyard. Years after, when I was in the greeting card business, I used it as my warehouse. Each floor had four bedrooms and two baths. There was a large entry area about twelve to sixteen feet tall, with several armchairs and a bench. There was a nice accordion door that opened up to the dining room and living room. It was a large open space. Doors led up to the master bedroom, my grandma’s room, as well as the bedroom I shared with my brother. The TV and piano room faced the street. Our kitchen was very nice, with metal kitchen cabinets and a breakfast area. The first floor of the house was for us while the second floor was rented out. It was the perfect house for our family.

The house was located north of Tehran in a very nice neighborhood which was relatively new. Many Armenians had begun moving towards the north, so we had many Armenian neighbors and friends. My uncle also bought a two-story house a few blocks away from us, so my other grandma that lived with my uncle’s family could walk to our house.

There were so many stores within walking distance from our house, ranging from grocery stores to fancy boutiques and jewelry stores.

This was also the year that my dad had a major disagreement with my mom’s side of the family.

After twenty years of working in my auntie’s husband’s office, he left his job. My dad felt that he wasn’t treated TEHRAN, IRAN ( LAT E 19 6 0 S ) — GOIN G TO fairly, leading to the separation of his AN EVENT W IT H MY FAMILY. relationship with my auntie’s family 60

and cousins. It had even affected my grandma’s relationship with her sister. It also affected me emotionally when I saw how angry my dad was. Things changed when he found a job teaching Armenian. His knowledge of Armenian literature and poetry made him a perfect teacher. In the sixties, although there were many Armenian schools in Tehran, there weren’t many good teachers. Because of his pride in Armenian culture, especially in music, art, and business, he was a passionate instructor. He could make people feel excited and proud of Armenian achievements. This pride always made me believe that Armenians were the best, something I continue to believe. It was nice that he finally pursued his passion. His dad was also a teacher and I guess that was something that in their blood.

This was the year I found life-time friends from my school. Being IranianArmenian, I enjoyed the benefits of both cultures. There were Armenian pubs and sport centers that were isolated from non-Armenians. We had an Ararat sports and cultural center where all the participants were Armenians, especially Armenian youth. They had many fun events like Friday night dances called a “Tea dance” where boys would take their girlfriends for a romantic evening. It was affordable, with food and drink available, so most Armenian youths went. There would be a live band playing music that went on

TEHRAN, IRAN — T HE MAIN BU IL D IN G OF A L B OR Z H IGH S C H OOL WH E R E MY 10TH AND 11T H GRADE CLAS S S WE R E H E L D. 61

to become one of the most famous bands in Iran during the sixties and seventies. I would also go to Persian clubs or hotels with my friends, regardless if they were Armenian or not. They were disco clubs that had live music and dancing. Since I was seventeen, I was old enough to go to these clubs. They had Iranian bands, but some of the fancier clubs also featured Italian bands and singers. I was lucky to experience my teenage years in this era in Iran. Things totally changed with the 1979 revolution. Although I wasn’t in the country after ’79, I know all those clubs were closed.

Armen “Armik” Voskanian became one of my close friends in senior high school.

He attended Alborz high school but was one year older than me. During my teen years we spent a lot of time together and socialized with our other mutual friends, and through him I also became friends with his girlfriend and later wife, Marina. When I was getting married, I chose them for my godfather and godmother. They were in the circle of friends who enjoyed going to nightclubs and listening to music.

Eleventh grade was much easier than tenth grade. I did quite well in school even though I was socializing and enjoying many different activities. I could have done things differently, I could have really applied myself to study hard and attend one of the top universities in the US, but I would have to sacrifice the things I enjoyed so much. I knew then it wouldn’t work with my personality; I wanted to enjoy my teenage years. I knew I would miss my parents if I left the country for university. So, I decided that I wanted to attend a university in Iran so I could be with my parents and develop my own business.

And I did.

During the summer before my last year of high school I had time for different activities. In the sixties and seventies in Iran, the Queen of Iran wanted to expose Iranians to foreign art and culture while exporting Iranian culture to the rest of the world. One of her projects was the Shiraz Art and Culture festival. When I was seventeen, two of my pianist friends and I had the chance to attend and meet one of the greatest pianists of all time, Arthur Rubinstein, at the governor’s house and listen to him practice for the evening’s open-air piano recital. He mentioned in our conversation that it was a new experience for him to play outside in the ruins of Persepolis and said, “I’ll do my best.”

He absolutely did, and it was a very stirring experience and one I remember well after all these years.

I never stopped thinking of making money and work. That summer I negotiated with the principle of a girls’ high school for a teaching job at their summer school. The classes were for the students who failed their exams and were given a second chance, much like I had in tenth grade. They needed to be prepared for the final exam at the end of the summer for their failed subjects. The principle agreed that I would teach math classes. I also asked my friend Farokh to teach natural sciences in the same school. In Iran it was not common for students to work.

In twelfth grade, my senior year, it was finally time to get my driver’s license. I had to become 18 in order to apply for a driver’s license. My birthday is in the winter, being on November 15. Winter in Tehran is pretty harsh. It is cold and wet most of the time, with lots of snow. The driving test for the license wasn’t easy because of those slippery road conditions. As soon as I turned 18, I asked my dad to go with me to take my driver’s test. As always, my dad was there for me and we went together. During the test, the point 62

officer instructed me to turn in an uphill street and asked me to park in between two cars where there was very little extra space to maneuver the car and properly park. On top of that, the road was slippery. I tried my best to park but the officer decided that I did not pass. My dad was in the car with us, and when he heard this, started an impassioned speech. This touched the officer and he decided to pass me.

Although my dad supported me, there was one thing he couldn’t get on board with – having a girlfriend. Because I was so young, he didn’t want me to get distracted and stray from my education by being in a relationship. I remember celebrating my seventeenth birthday in our new house. For the first time ever, I invited my girlfriend to a family gathering. Because I was the first child of conservative parents, it made it hard for me to be open with them. In any case, I disagreed with my dad and I still disagree. I loved how I lived my life and what I did. If I had to start over again, I wouldn’t change a thing.

By the time I entered the twelfth grade, I became concerned about my looks since I started to slowly lose my hair. My dad, as always, was concerned for me too and started to do a lot of research. He also started balding when he was about twenty years old and I realized this was probably a genetic problem. He took me to different doctors, each giving advice and medication. One day, my dad came and excitedly told me that he found a doctor who was well-known for treating hair loss. He made an appointment for me.

The doctor was about forty-five years old. He asked me a few scientific questions, some totally unrelated to our genetic issue. Finally, he said he could not do anything about my hair. Even though we were very disappointed, we appreciated his honesty. We tried other solutions, like using fake hair, but I thought it was too funny to use. It made me a little insecure, but I eventually made the bold decision to just shave off all my hair. I realized it made me look better.

Thinking about career paths as I was close to leaving high school, I began to pursue training for the field of architecture. I studied this in my senior year and tried to prepare for the architectural entry exam, but I didn’t push myself hard enough to pass it. Later in life, I saw that as a good thing. I realized I didn’t want to be limited to only architecture my whole life, sitting behind design boards and drawing buildings all the time. I decided to pursue economics instead, which would give me the chance to explore and be more open to other job possibilities. I remember at the age of fourteen or fifteen I wanted to work in business, way before my interest in architecture formed. I would read magazines about different business, wanting to have the freedom to explore and make money in any field I had an interest in.

In high school, I took up smoking cigarettes. It was a popular thing then, but I didn’t do it to follow others or for popularity. I’m not entirely sure why I did it. I enjoyed smoking at the time, but I didn’t know much about the dangers or impact of smoking on our bodies. My parents were totally against it, even though my dad used to smoke when he was younger. I never smoked in front of them because it was a sign of disrespect. It became a hidden habit. If I saw my parents or any of my family members coming my way, I would throw the cigarette away immediately. Years later, I finally quit because of my son. He said he wanted a healthy dad who stayed alive.

Smoking cigarettes was one of the two worst habits I’ve developed in my life. The other bad habit is procrastination. As a high school student, I tended to procrastinate 63

about things that I needed to do and unfortunately that’s a trait I’ve carried my entire life.

During my school years, especially high school, once classes ended, I would jump straight into fun. I liked going out with my girlfriend after school. As a result, I would come home late, eat dinner, and prepare to review my lessons and start homework later at night. But then I would feel sleepy and tired and not have the proper amount of time or energy to do my schoolwork. Still, I’m happy I was able to live my life and go out and have fun. Since I didn’t want to go to MIT and get a Ph.D., my lifestyle was perfect. Recently, I talked to one of my old friends about our childhood and teenage years. He told me he was upset about what he missed. When I asked him why, he said all he did was study. He talked about how his parents didn’t really allow him to go out and enjoy the full teenage experience.

He said he wished he had a girlfriend and that he went out more. From that moment, I realized how lucky I was to have the chance to enjoy all those special experiences.

In the early twentieth century, my high school had more Armenian students.

At that time, more than forty percent of Alborz’s student population were Armenian.

But in the sixties, only about five percent of the students were Armenians. While I was growing up, young Iranians were pushing to become highly educated. As a result schools sought out highly educated Iranians from abroad to help the education movement. Today in twenty-first century America, Iranians are the first in almost every field among all other immigrants. We had great teachers in Iran. During senior year, I got their help as private tutors so I could understand complicated math problems better. They were highly professional and exceptionally bright; some were the best in their field and very

TEHRAN, IRAN ( 196 0 S ) — T H E FAC U LTY OF A L B OR Z H IGH S C H OOL A R E SEATED IN T HE F IRST ROW. FOU RTH FR OM L E FT IS TH E R E N OW NE D P RI NC I P L E DR. MO HAMED ALI M OJTA H E D I, WH O A L S O FOU N D E D A RYA M EH R U NI VERSIT Y. IN LAT ER YEARS TH E N A M E C H A N GE D TO S H A R IF U N IV E R SI T Y. I T I S CON S IDERED TO BE T HE B EST U N IV E R S ITY IN IRA N FOR M ATH E M AT I C S AND ENGIN EERIN G, LIKE M. I.T. IN TH E U S .

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famous. I remember they had a way of teaching that made you learn quickly and easily.

It was amazing.

For my last year in high school, final exams were prepared by the ministry of education. Even the exams and their test locations were all determined and controlled by the government. The test consisted of ten main subjects. To prepare for it, I usually studied with different friends. We studied in each other’s house, sometimes reviewing lessons in our summer garden or at night in the streets or parks. When it was time to take my exam, I was assigned to a girls’ school close to Alborz with some of my other high school classmates. I remember during the physics exam, one of my old classmates raised his hand and announced that one of the questions was wrong and didn’t make sense, twenty minutes into the test. The exams were prepared by expert, well-known teachers, so it was strange to have an error. In a short time, we received a corrected version of the test and continued. But criticizing and questioning the exam was a big deal, since the physics and math questions were so complicated and not something everybody could figure out let alone find fault with.

Even though I was happy to graduate from Alborz, I had mixed feelings about leaving the school after six years. I remember standing near the circular fountain, overlooking the main building of our school, across from the main entry gate. I had one last look at the building and left, fondly recalling all the memories I had made there.

TEHRAN, IRAN ( 19 6 6 ) — I’M 18 YE A R S OL D. M Y FU TU R E B EST M A N “A RMI K” I S SI TTI NG N EXT TO ME, N EX T TO H IM IS H IS GIR L FR IE N D M A R IN A , W H O I S NOW HIS W IF E. T HE OCCAS ION IS M A R IN A’S B IRTH DAY A N D WE A R E C ELEBRAT IN G IN A CLUB. 65

The National University of Iran

T

he summer following my graduation was a busy time for me. I had to take special classes to prepare for the university entry exams. There were several universities in Tehran and other cities in Iran, but each could only accept a limited number of students. If you couldn’t get into any one of those universities, you were required to enter military service. However, if you got into university your service would be postponed. I was planning to go into the architectural school, so I took a summer classes in design, drawing, and math. Since I wanted to stay in Tehran, my choices were limited to just a few universities. Some were private while others were public, but all had entrance exams. Private schools had relatively easier exams because there were fewer applicants.

Nevertheless, I took architectural and economics exams. I did not pass the architecture test, but I was on the waiting list for economics. After a few weeks, I learned that they had accepted me in economics at the National University of Iran. It was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I understood later how much happier I am to be a businessman than a designer or architect. The National University of Iran was one of the

TEHRAN, IRAN ( 196 8) — MY OWN FIR ST CA R TH AT DA D B OU GH T FOR M E, A ‘ 68 PAYK A N S EDAN .

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newly established schools north of Tehran. It was located on a hillside which overlooked the city with many buildings and faculties spread all over the hills. It was quite beautiful, but also quite far from our house. I realized I needed to have a car of my own.

There was a car assembly factory that manufactured British cars in Iran. The original company, Hillman, which later went under the name of Paykan, had just started to make cars in Iran. My dad decided to buy me a new car – a white Paykan. It was a mid-size sedan, four-cylinder, stick shift. The car cost $2,500. If we were in the US at the time, we could have bought a Mustang at the same price. Six months after we bought it, the manufacturer sent us a letter saying that we overpaid and returned $100. In Tehran at that time, it wasn’t that common to own a car at nineteen, unlike here in the United States. Most parents were unwilling or unable to buy a car for their kids. But I was lucky.

Having my own car made it easier for me to get to the university on time, especially during the wintertime, when the roads were covered with lots of snow.

I had an interest in business since I was fourteen. I read a Persian weekly paper called Economist because I enjoyed increasing my business acumen. I knew I wanted to have a bachelor’s degree in economics and develop my own business, which I did. The courses I took for my economics degree were not that hard, especially coming from such a rigorous high school program. I took English 101, Psychology, Math, Economics 101, Political Science, among others my first year of university. That first year when I was nineteen, I developed an even fiercer desire to start my own business.

Two major things happened in my first year of college. After three years of being together, my girlfriend and I broke up. It was a painful period. Also, I started to work.

Both events changed and shaped my life. I found my direction. I knew I wanted to be a businessman, and make money, and find a girlfriend who I could eventually marry. I achieved all three a few years later.

MY FIR ST JOB

I was twenty years old when I decided to get a job. Hardly any of my friends or classmates were working at the time. But to me, it became really important that I make my own money and eventually start my own business. I searched the newspapers for employment advertisements until eventually I found the only job that I ever had in my life working for someone else. The ad was for a salesperson to represent a match manufacturing company. Specifically, taking orders from companies with private labels who wanted to use books of matches as part of their branding. I called them for an interview. When I went to their office, I found out that three of the four owners were Armenian. They had formed partnership to manufacture matchbooks. Theirs was the only matchbook manufacturing company in Iran. The name of the company was Ramp.

The matchbooks had a cover made out of cardboard where the name of the product or a service company was printed. When you unfolded it, there was a space where you could also print more information about that industry. I thought it was a great way to advertise a product or service, especially since smokers carry matchbooks in their pockets and it is an easy, useful way to advertise a business.

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Rouben, the owner of the company, was a thirty-five-year-old Armenian man who interviewed me for the job. He eventually became my mentor for the next one and a half years. In the introduction, he explained that they just started to operate and make matches. They were looking for someone who could take orders from the companies that produced goods or services such as airlines, hotels, etc. The factory had not been in operation for many years and thus needed a major overhaul. I liked the idea and the product, since everyone at the time smoked, including me.

They started to make the matches and take orders about a year before my arrival, creating quite a number of samples. Most of the orders were taken by the partners or Rouben himself. During the interview he explained his vision for the company and how it was very important for the salesperson to have extensive knowledge about art and design, printing and how the matches are manufactured, along with key sales and marketing language. The whole thing sounded interesting to me since it seemed to

TEHRAN, IRAN ( 196 8) — AT M E H RA BA D A IR PORT. I H A D JU ST GRA D UAT E D FROM H I GH S CHO OL, AN D T HIS WAS M Y B EST FR IE N D R IK A’S D E PA RTU R E TO AM ERI CA – AN EMOT IO N AL MO M E N T. I’M FIR ST ON TH E R IGH T. 68

combine my interest in marketing and painting in a challenging way. Once I got the job, I began to take orders from different businesses. It was a great way to meet many business owners and managers. As a salesperson, I helped the business grow, and I started hiring and training more people for the job.

During my first year on that job, I learned more about general business as well as commercial design and printing. The job gave me the confidence and knowledge to start my own business soon after. I was making money through commissions from the orders I was taking. Soon enough, I had enough money that I could take care of my own expenses. At the same time, I was attending classes at university which wasn’t easy. Even though it was difficult to work and go to school at the same time, I knew my direction. I knew I wanted to get my bachelor’s degree and pursue business as my career. I also knew that if I continued to get my master’s and Ph.D., I would lose interest pursuing different businesses in favor of academia.

About six months after I started working for Ramp, I bought my first major purchase – a tape recorder for my parent’s house. It was the latest stereo recording system, “AKAII,” and it cost around five hundred dollars. (I guess that could have been one month of my dad’s salary.) I signed the drafts to pay a monthly fee of fifty dollars. It was my first credit line and I was only twenty-one. I can’t forget my dad’s face when he saw the tape recorder. He was impressed and proud that his own son bought something for the family with his own hard-earned money. Today it might not be a big deal. But in those days it was, since hardly any students worked. But I found that sense of accomplishment and fulfillment was the most valuable thing I earned from working.

Within the first ten months of working at that company I got lots of experience in marketing, advertising, designing/printing, and customer service. I felt that I was getting ready to start my own advertising and printing-related company. This vision finally pushed me to start my own business, that and the financial decline of the matchbook company from the reckless, personal expenditures of the owner. That helped me to part ways with Ramp sooner rather than later. I was getting ready to strike out on my own.

The Universe gave me the pieces to create my first company at the age of twentyone. A year before, when I was in my second year of university, my friend Emil brought me a hand-painted card for my birthday of a boy holding a balloon. He told me that one of his colleagues at the Tehran oil refinery where he worked drew it for me. At the time, I was in search of a good artist and designer for my own business.

Emil eventually arranged a meeting with the designer. Ali was a mechanical engineer by trade, and not long before we met, he had returned to Iran from the U.S., where he studied engineering. While he was in America he sharpened his artistic talents as a designer at Hallmark, the US greeting card company.

When it was around Christmas time, I came up with the idea to make longer matches – ten inches long rather than the standard one and half inch matches – with a few different designs representing the holiday and the new year on the cover of the match box. I asked Ali to create the artwork. Once the matches were made, I took orders from my different business clients and printed the names of their companies on the back of the match box. Those clients gave away the matches as Christmas gifts for their customers. In the end, it was a successful project.

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TEHRAN, IRAN ( 1970) — MY FR IE N D A L I’S TRA D ITION A L IS L A M IC WE D D I NG

While all this was happening, I continued to live with my parents and my grandmother. Our house was in the northern part of Tehran, which was considered a very nice and desirable part of town. The people who lived in this area were mostly 70

Armenian, specifically Armenians of a higher social and economic class. My dad was already semi-retired. He was teaching Armenian in an Armenian school only part-time.

My mom stayed home with grandma and continued to be a housewife.

My personal life was okay. I didn’t have a serious girlfriend, but I still had my share of fun. There were many disco clubs with live bands, fancy movie theaters, and many new restaurants opened at that time, all of which served as popular hangout destinations for young people.

Once at the university, I tried to organize a special student dance with my friend Khosro at Iran American Society banquet hall. We put in a lot of effort and did plenty of marketing to promote our first event. The two of us sold enough tickets to have filled the event space and made us a good profit. After selling most of the tickets, I contacted the band that was scheduled to play at the event a in a few days. The band leader, Zhirair, told me he had to cancel their performance. It was the worst thing that could have happened, and very irresponsible on his side to call off their agreement at the last minute. For me, it was a lesson. I realized I should have had a plan B in case a situation like that arose.

Because Khorso and I were new at event planning, we didn’t have the experience or access to resources to find another band to play. As a result, we had no choice but to cancel the whole dance event. We had to reverse our position, so we started to buy back the tickets we sold and return the money to the ticket holders, which was much harder than selling tickets. After that failed experiment, we decided to never plan an event like that again.

CO N S ULTAN T S, S U PPL IE R S A N D D ES IGN E R S

My focus sharpened and I returned to focus on the business I hoped to create.

It was 1971 and I was in my third year of university when I established C.S.D., short for “Consultants, Suppliers and Designers.” C.S.D. lasted until 1978, right up to the date when I left the country. Those seven years marked my first active years as an adult. From the ages twenty-one to twenty-nine, I made many important decisions and took action in many different fields that changed my life forever.

The C.S.D. partnership consisted of six partners – two architects, two mechanical engineers, one electrical engineer and me. Of the two architects, one was my close high school friend and the other his brother. Ali served as both the mechanical engineer and designer of C.S.D., bringing two of his co-workers to my company from the Iranian oil refinery plant that they all worked at. I initiated the formation of C.S.D. with the hopes that we would eventually expand and have separate divisions in different fields. Before we created the partnership, I had already found an office space to rent. The office was an entry hall with four rooms, kitchen, and bathroom located on the second floor of a newly built, five-story building on a major street in northern Tehran. It was about 1000 sq/ft.

Once the partnership was formed, I had Ali create a logo for C.S.D. (I realized Ali had copied an American logo after I had moved to the US and saw the same design for another company). We all then decided to invest seven hundred dollars each. They unanimously chose me by vote as the managing director since I was pursuing the newly established 71

business almost full-time. I was already in the business field and familiar with advertising and marketing, so I could develop the business through targeted advertising.

A few months passed. With the exception of some small orders, we couldn’t do any major business and we needed more capital to cover our expenses. Although I was doing everything I could to get major orders, not much was happening, and finally four of the company’s partners didn’t want to risk more money and left. Because Ali had an important role in creating designs, I asked him to stay. I told him he didn’t have to invest more, and we continued the business. Eventually business did pick up. I focused on the advertising and marketing side, which involved creating and printing designs to promote products. I found major clients in the manufacturing and importing fields, and C.S.D. helped them by providing new labels, brochures, catalogues, and other advertising materials to increase their sales.

It wasn’t easy to attend classes for my bachelor’s degree while maintaining a fulltime job, but I managed. Looking back now as I write this, I feel like my life would be even more exciting and fulfilling if I had a few mentors from different fields of expertise, so they could evaluate my potential whilst giving me support and direction. I think that is the best thing we could do for ourselves and our children - to seek help from the experts so that we can reach our own maximum level of ability and pursue our interests. That way, we wouldn’t waste time or diminish untapped potential.

TEHRAN, IRAN — T HE N AT IONA L U N IV E R S ITY OF IRA N ( TH E Y C H A N GE D T H E NAM E TO S HAHID BEHES HT I U N IV E R S ITY A FTE R TH E R E VOLU TION ) 72

Marriage

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y life changed forever when I attended a friend’s party. I met a young, energetic girl named Catherine. She was the bubbliest girl there, which attracted me to her. I approached her, and we started to have long conversation about school, work and life. After the party, I gave her a ride home since she didn’t have a car. Her family had a beautiful home in a great location, which I admired from outside even though I didn’t go in, since it was already late. She made quite an impression.

She just started to work in a foreign pharmaceutical company as a secretary — even though her interest was in interior design and architecture. But she decided to quit interior decorating and design school after the first year and entered the workforce.

On the way to their home I explained a little about my vision for life and that I’d started a new company of my own with my office and so on and suggested that she might stop by after work and we could have coffee together. A couple of days later, she came by C.S.D. in the afternoon. She told me she was impressed by my office and was happy to have met a young, ambitious entrepreneur.

I was 22 years old.

In a relatively short time we developed an intense relationship which lead to getting engaged and eventually married in 1972, 18 months after we first met. I was young and excited about life and ready to start a family. I have the same excitement for life today. I still develop any creative idea into reality with the same energy.

1971 and ‘72 were really busy years for me. On the one hand, I started my business which required full-time effort. But on the other hand, I was dragging my feet to graduate,

TEH RAN, IRAN ( EARLY 1970 S ) — C .S .D. COR PORATION , I’M H A R D AT WORK, BUT ALS O BALAN CIN G M Y U N IV E R S ITIES STU D IES A N D A S E R I O U S RELATI ON S HIP. 73

since if I did graduate I had to do my mandatory military service. I wanted to extend my university studies as much as possible so I could delay enlisting. In the middle of all the activities and unfinished business, I got married in 1972. It wasn’t easy to handle all of these major life responsibilities at the young age of 23, but I had the determination to do it all, at least cognitively. Unfortunately, all those pressures caused a lot of anxiety and forced me to go on medication. The lasting impact was that adversity helped me to build strong emotional muscles, enabling me to better face hardships in life.

The second time that I went through a hard time with that level of intensity was at the age of 55 in America — that’s when the real estate market went through a heavy downturn and the market collapsed. I was forced to give up many of the properties that I owned, but this time I handled that stress much better.

None of these things were easy to cope with at the young age of 23, but I was determined to do it all. I felt so mature in my early 20’s, and even now I can’t believe I was able to do all that.

My family’s house was a two-story building, but my dad built a third floor for me and my future wife. Our apartment had an open floor plan. With Catherine’s help, I designed a modern interior for our space. We had a tomato-colored metal kitchen cabinet, a unique color that my wife chose. We wanted hardwood flooring in the lightest possible shade with real oakwood. There was a wood and glass sliding door that I designed as an atrium.

The sliding door separated the main entry hall from another hall. On the left was a room that became the baby’s nursery, in the middle, the guest bathroom, and on the right, the master bedroom. On the other side of that hallway was another little hallway going to the

TEHRAN, IRAN ( EARLY 1970 S ) — C .S .D. COR PORATION , 1 1 4 N A D E R S H A H AV E . , M AG GI E SARKIS S IAN , CAT HER IN E A N D M Y M U TUA L FR IE N D, IN M Y OFF I C E .

SHE’ S LOO KIN G AT ME S IT T IN G B E H IN D M Y D ES K .

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TEHRAN, IRAN ( F EBRUARY 6 , 1 972 ) — L E AV IN G CATH E R IN E ’S PA R E NT S ’ H OUSE FOR CHURCH.

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TEHRAN, IRAN ( F EBRUARY 6 , 1972 ) — WITH M Y DA D A N D M OM IN OU R H O U S E ON TH E N IGHT OF T HE W EDDIN G.

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maid’s room and the kitchen. I also designed a round bar in the middle of the apartment with lighting under the top. It came out really nice; it was made from walnut wood.

Catherine’s mom bought a very nice bedroom and dining set with a beautiful sofa and armchair. Anoush, Catherine’s mom, also loved interior design and was really helpful to us, since she had already decorated and designed their house.

My in-laws had a very nice engagement party on the wedding day, which was held before the service. They had a traditional Armenian band with three musicians and invited about 80 guests to their house. The event followed to the church, and afterwards my mom and dad had a small party with about 50 guests in our house (my parent’s house) as it was more intimate and did not have live music. My entire family was excited and happy; both of my grandmas were also present. It was a relatively simple but cozy wedding compared to some Armenian weddings which have over 500 guests. I’m happier now that we didn’t have a big wedding.

I had a reservation for a suite in the newly built Sheraton hotel. From there we flew to Isfahan for a week-long honeymoon and stayed in Shah Abbas hotel, the most prestigious hotel in Isfahan at the time. There is a saying, “Isfahan nesfe Jahan”— “Isfahan is half the world.” What that refers to is that when Shah Abbas the Great became ruler of Persia’s Safawid dynasty in 1587, he made his capital, Isfahan, stand out as one of the most treasured cities of the ancient world. It holds the most amazing buildings and mosques and museums and Armenian churches and centers in Iran. It’s about a oneand-a-half-hour flight from Tehran, but it is like going back in time.

The first two years of our marriage was the most tense period. I insisted that Catherine to go to a four-year college to get her bachelor’s degree. I received my bachelor’s in Economics, hired a full-time maid, started my one-and-a-half-year term of military service and was running my business start-up. On top of all of that, she and I each had a different vision of how we should live and plans for the future. It was sometimes hard to combine them together and that also created additional anxiety for me.

I was trying to learn and accomplish so much in my personal and business life all at the same time. Today I think if I had a mentor, in addition to my parents, this time would have been easier. I had so much confidence about what I was doing, but I really could have used some guidance.

I SFAH AN, IRAN — T HE BEAU TIFU L H I STORI C S HAH ABBAS HOT EL

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AND

The Air Force

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nce my doctor told me that I was like a truck that had the capacity of carrying a maximum of 5 tons of weight, which I had loaded with 20 tons. Thinking of it today creates a certain anxiety but at least now I know the reason, and possibly what to do about it. This was especially true at this period of my life in my early 20s, where I took on a lot of heavy responsibilities and was under a tremendous amount of stress.

I finally graduated from The National University of Iran and had to enlist for 18 months of military service. The first two months was the training period, and there was a very real possibility that they could have sent me to a city far from Tehran — what an unpleasant situation for a newlywed! Being stationed on a base in the middle of nowhere was the last thing I wanted. In Iran it was very common to use family and social connections in just about every aspect of life, from finding a job to buying a car; anything, really. So I tried to look for a way to circumvent the system.

It was unofficially forbidden for really important government positions to be filled by non-Muslims. To rise to that level, non-Muslim (like us Armenians) would have to have the highest credentials, best performance, and in general be far more qualified than anyone else competing for that job. Ara had a friend whose father ranked very high in the Iranian Air Force. Officially, he was an Air Force Colonel and the head of the Air Force Training Center My dad and I, and I think my brother too, went to his house and asked him if there was anything he could do to keep me near Tehran, and he promised to bring me to his training facilities at the Air Force base.

Finally, the day of the draft arrived and I, along with hundreds of students, went to the assignment center in the early morning to discover our fates. There were representatives from the different sections of the armed forces with their lists of students who would join them in their respective departments. I already knew that the two officers from the Air Force must have had my name, but I was impatient. They read name after name without calling mine, so I kept asking them to check their lists and reminding them of my name and eventually, they cracked and said “We have already had enough pressure about you from inside and here you keep asking us about calling you too!” but eventually they called my name and I officially entered the training center of the Air Force. It was such a relief!

The center had more than 3,000 Air Force personnel with only two Armenians among them, the head of the training campus and me. Fortunately, the Air Force training campus was only a 45-minute drive from our house and after the classes ended, I could go back home and to my office. It was the best possible arrangement that could have happened, thanks to my brother’s connection; the only better outcome was to be excluded from entering military service, which was almost impossible. My brother found a loophole: when you graduated from high school you could leave the country and go 78

T EHRAN , IRAN ( 1 974 ) — A IR FOR C E L IE U TE N A N T

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abroad for higher education. You needed to take an English exam and have an approved acceptance from that foreign university. Then when you graduated from the foreign university you had to come back and serve, which Ara never did.

After two months training, I became a lieutenant in the Air Force. Handling my business, my home life, and my training all at the same time wasn’t easy, but on the other hand it was exciting to be a lieutenant. Wearing an air force uniform brought a kind of prestige that none of my friends could claim.

ME L D IA IS B OR N

My first daughter Meldia was born on July 30, 1974, when I was already a lieutenant and serving in the Air Force.

I was waiting impatiently for her arrival for several months, and I became even more excited when I found out that my first child was a girl. It was my dream to have a girl as my first child, and one just like her. Catherine, with her cousin’s help, had decided to name Meldia. I loved the name and still do. It was taken from an Armenian book and it was the name of some mountains or a river in old Armenia.

T EHRAN , IRAN ( AU GU ST, 1 974 ) — CATH E R IN E W IT H ME L D IA AT PA R S H OS PITA L .

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Catherine delivered Meldia at the PARS hospital, one of the newest and the most well-known and modern hospitals in Tehran. I covered her entire hospital room with baskets of roses. The hospital was a short distance from our house, and everybody was excited for Meldia’s arrival. She was a big, cute baby, as well as the first grandchild for my parents.

Even though the arrival of each baby has its own excitement and joy, with the first child you experience something new that you never had before in your life. I guess your age also has a lot to do with that, because when Meldia was born I was only 26 years old.

I wanted to give her everything, and it seemed like she understood. I’m writing now and smiling, since today I wouldn’t give her everything; I would support her while she goes and makes her own way, which I think she ultimately did, and it’s a good thing. Meldia arrived two years after we got married. I felt we needed to have a child — something was missing, maybe because we had different visions in life. Catherine grew up in a more open-minded family than I did — especially on her Dad’s side, maybe because he grew up in Paris. I was much more reserved compared to her. She often didn’t care much what she did or what the consequences might be. She didn’t like being corrected or reminded of our disagreements and would get mad when I told her, “You said or did this again.” And that would made me even more irritated.

Meldia’s arrival was a good change in our lives, also in our parent’s lives, since she was the first grandchild of the family, She was the girl that I always dreamed having.

T EHRAN , IRA N ( AU GU ST, 1 974 ) — WITH MELDIA AT CATH E R IN E ’S PA R E N T’S H OU S E

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A N X IE TY

Having too many responsibilities at young age and being a sensitive and cautious person caused me to develop anxieties. I was constantly worried about the future and thinking of what would happen if something went wrong instead of simply being in the present. My personality was completely unlike Catherine’s who, most of the time, lived in the present and cared less about the future. She carried her parent’s dispositions, even her grandparents’, who had a totally different worldview compared to my family. We were kind of at two opposite extremes — today I think maybe it was better that I was the one who got anxious, and not both of us, but on the other hand, I often felt lonely in many ways. The persistent worry and anxiety I experienced dragged me into a coping strategy of taking medications for several years after Meldia’s arrival. After many years of studying and practicing personal development, I was finally able to stop using medications and learned how to control my mind and ignore the thoughts that create anxiety. Obviously, I cannot control all of the adversity I encounter in life, but I did learn how to recognize obsessive thought cycles which made it worse. The positive side was that I learned a lot about anxiety and ways to cope with it, and that knowledge helped me for all the years to come.

TH E A IR FOR C E

The two months of training at the air force base was pretty good; actually, it was the most relaxing part of my daily activities. One morning Colonel Zorik, who later became a general (the first Armenian Air Force general under the Shah), called me to his office.

Since it was kind of odd to call a trainee to the office of the head of the facilities, he also called another Assyrian guy, Milton, to go with me so it wouldn’t look suspicious that he was asking to meet the only Armenian besides him on the whole base. The fact that I was only a trainee made it look even worse, from that point of view. He had a very nice office, Milton and I both went to see him, and he asked us about the facilities and tried to get some feedback about how we were doing.

At the end of training I was promoted and became an Air Force Lieutenant. That was really a big deal and brought with it a lot of prestige that Armenians did not typically enjoy. You could show off by wearing the air force officer uniform and walk in the streets or go to social places that would normally be considered out-of-bounds. Eventually I was assigned, with 11 other officers, to the purchasing department of the army; that was the best thing that could have happened to me.

I was assigned to facilities housed on the campus of what used to be the palace of a king of the previous dynasty. It had been converted to a military center, with many munition cartridge making facilities, and as I mentioned before, it was close to the airport. But it was still a beautiful place with acres of manicured gardens and peacocks roaming freely. There was a six-story office building in the center of the facility, and my office, the Army Purchasing Department, was on the 3rd floor. Across from the main 82

building, there was a two-story building, old but very fancy, that used to be the living quarters of the wives and concubines of the previous king. It had an interesting layout, with two levels like an apartment building or a motel with an oval-shaped pool in the middle, and many rooms on each floor. Each room belonged to one of the wives of the king, possibly as many as 30 or 40 rooms which had been converted into offices.

On my first day I was called to a general’s office, who was the vice chair of the organization. It was a big deal to be called to his office. He was a middle-aged man with a heavy Turkish accent, when he was speaking Farsi, and his fancy office was commensurate with his station. He asked me some questions and found out that I’m Armenian. This caliber of Persians especially loved Armenians; they always thought that Armenians are trustworthy people, intelligent and responsible. Apparently impressed with me, he sent me to the purchasing department of the organization. Part of the requirement for that position was to have proficiency in a certain level of English; again, that was the best department that I could have been assigned to.

The next morning, I checked in with the purchasing department and introduced myself to the Vice President. Colonel Parviz Omidvar was about 44 years old, a Harvard MBA graduate, smart and intelligent. After a lengthy chat we got connected, and I had a fun and interesting experience for the next 15 months in a truly heavenly setting.

There were about 80 people working in my department, some were in army uniforms and some were civilians. Only myself and two other people, Yousef Salmasi and Milton, were from the Air Force, the rest were either private sector or army officers.

There was a hallway with offices on each side and in each office there were two or three personnel, and at the end of the hallway was a huge filing room. It was a very big operation, specifically with the number of transactions, which exceeded millions and millions of dollars, importing all kinds of army equipment and machinery parts from all over the world.

Colonel Omidvar’s boss, Mr Mamaghani, was the head of the purchasing department. He was a civilian but ranked at the same level as a General. He had an interesting personality; it seemed like he hardly cared for anything and seldom even watched the operation. Omidvar was the one following daily activities in the department.

The Colonel was my boss, but he also became my friend; he was a very intelligent man and spoke perfect English, although he seemed like he didn’t have any hope for the future, especially his own future. We became pretty close and he assigned me to be his right-hand person with the thought that I’d be capable of doing everything and could help him to organize the operation. Somehow, I must have impressed him.

The filing department was a huge area that contained hundreds, possibly thousands, of files. Each file was for ordering a product from a certain company someplace in the world. They held information that could be regarded as “sensitive” if not actually “classified,” and organizing them, and keeping track of where they were, and if they were all were returned at the end of the business day wasn’t that easy. Compounding this difficulty was that the files were going in and out of the room based on the need of the individual who was assigned to work on them. Here I had to tread carefully because most of them had a higher military position than I, so I couldn’t impose order by telling them what to do and how to do it. I did my best, even though after several months I almost gave 83

up. With the exception of a few being in my age group, everybody else was quite a bit older than I was and dealing with much older people was always part my of life, and my business career. I suppose I had a knack for it, but it could also be frustrating.

I was hitting all my goals in life, but I was also impatient to move ahead. At least I completed one of my responsibilities in life, which was graduating and receiving my bachelor’s degree in economics. As I mentioned before, I decided not to pursue a master’s or PhD, because I saw no benefit to my career path. I would have been forced to become an employee of a big corporation or work in some capacity for the government. If I were lucky, maybe I could become a teacher, but I didn’t intend to do any of these jobs. I’m still glad that I made that decision. For me it was the right one since I wanted to become an entrepreneur. But in 1975, I still had my hands full with completing my military service obligation, running my company and, most important, supporting my family.

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A Young Professional

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y military work was six days a week from 7 am to 2 pm; we were off every Friday.

After work, I usually went home to change and see Meldia, since Catherine was at the university, and then I’d go to my office. In Iran most offices were closed for lunch from around 1 pm to 4 pm in the afternoon, so after the break, I’d stay in the office till 7:30 or 8 pm.

During the 5 years when I was between 25 and 30 years old, I had very exciting and challenging life. My office was only a five minute drive to my home. Our apartment was modern and spacious, with around 2000 square feet on the third floor. My parents’ apartment was on the first floor and we had a tenant on the second floor.

Meldia stayed in the annex to our bedroom, which had an arch-shaped opening, for her first year. After she turned one year old, she moved to her own room on the other side of our bedroom. Shokat, our maid and babysitter, had a small room next to the kitchen area. We had a fancy place. Meldia stayed often with my parents who were crazy for her, and Catherine usually came home from university, which was about a 30-minute drive to our house, in the afternoon. By that time Shokat had already cleaned the house and prepared lunch or dinner.

TEHRAN, IRAN ( 1975) — S HOK AT IN CATHERI N E’S PAREN T S ’ BACK YA R D

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Catherine was largely absent from home during the first four years of our marriage since she was attending college. I couldn’t see her that often and Meldia was alone with the maid a lot even though my parents, being just downstairs, were often taking care of her. This was a hardship, but I was determined, maybe even more than she was, that she complete her bachelor’s degree. I had the thought that if one day something happened to me it would be easier for her to survive and take care of our family. After all, that happened to my grandmothers.

I also had some disappointments during that period; the most significant was when I found out that she lost our wedding ring. She was on a college tour of Greece for two weeks and lost it while she was away. To me, the wedding ring is a very meaningful and important symbol and the fact that she didn’t try to replace it bothered me even more. From that day on I never wore my wedding ring again. I was very sensitive about many things in our marriage which didn’t have same level of importance to her, and it hurt me.

In July of 1976 Catherine graduated and became a housewife.

TEHRAN, IRAN ( JULY, 1976 ) — AT DA M AVA N D COL L EGE TO C E L E B RAT E CATHERI N E’S GRADUAT ION . M E L D IA ( H E L D BY CATH E R IN E ) IS TWO Y E A R S OLD. K AR EN , CAT HERIN E’S YO U N GE R B R OTH E R , IS AT TH E FA R L E FT, NEX T TO H I M I S CAT HERIN E’S MOM, A N OU S H , A N D M Y M OM , S U Z A N , IS IN T H E M I DDLE. 86

TEH RAN, IRAN ( N OV EMBER, 1977) — CATH E R IN E WITH M Y FAVOR ITE CA R , A TWO- DOOR YELLOW BMW, ON PA H L AV I AV E .

EXEC U TIV E L IFESTY L E

I had a two-door yellow BMW which I bought from a co-worker from the purchasing department, Fereidoun Derakhshani. He became one of my closest friends, and he sold the car to me in installments without charging any interest. Persian people are very caring and passionate and generous in general, and even more so if they like you. I miss being with them. I enjoyed their company. I think they were influential in the development of my giving and loving personality, and I remember them fondly.

Like my car, my office was also quite fancy, maybe even fancier than many other executive offices. I had a big desk with a wooden bar cabinet on the side with a hidden refrigerator inside, a white sofa and arm chair in front of my desk and, in the conference room area which was continuation of my room, there was a large dark wood table with 87

six arm chairs. I also had beautiful paintings from Ali’s designs. At the time, the elegance of the office and lifestyle was important. At home, Meldia started to attend to a wellknown French preschool, and Catherine graduated from university and got her bachelor’s degree in English literature.

During the seven years that I owned my own business in Tehran, I had many of my college friends work with and help me. My friends were excited and proud that I had my own business; it wasn’t common those days in Iran for a young college student to start his own company. About ten of my classmates and friends worked in my office during that period. We did all the marketing and printing materials for a few main clients, and had others use our services more sporadically. One of the first to join me was Farhad Dabiri, who was my classmate in high school and also in college. He did some design work and didn’t even expect to get paid. He thought that since it was the start of the company and as a friend he was supposed to help with my success, but of course I compensated him. He now has a very high position in the Iranian government. My closest friend and employee was Yousef Salmasi. He was my classmate in college and also worked in my department during our military service period. Another employee was Khachik Abrahamian; he was studying biology during our college years and now he owns a medical lab in Glendale.

He was in marketing. Andre Maroutian, who was in sales, later he got his computer engineering degree and began work at IBM. For our major clients, we handled all their design needs from their logo to all of their labels, brochures and catalogues; these clients included a salad dressing company, soft drink companies, beauty products, construction companies, travel agencies, airlines, and many others. My company didn’t have a printing shop but was using different printing companies on contract basis. It was very fortunate that I didn’t invest in any machinery, since by the start of the revolution, I would have been stuck in Iran and would not have had the flexibility to move out of the country fast enough.

LON D ON , E N GL A ND ( 1 977) — AT TH E OFFIC ES OF TH E R U ST C RA FT GR E E TIN G CA R D S COM PA N Y IN LON D ON WITH TH EI R SA L ES M A N AGE R . I R E PR ES E N TE D THEI R COM PA N Y IN IRA N .

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I RAN (1 975) — O N E OF T HE M OST POPU L A R GR E E TIN G CA R D S T H AT M Y COM PAN Y PRODUCED, F R OM TH E OR IGIN A L D ES IGN E D BY H RAC H K ARAP ET IAN . W E S O LD S O MA N Y TH OU SA N D S OF TH IS CA R D A N D H I S OTH ER DES IGN S T HAT IN T WO Y E A R S H IS PA IN TIN G PR IC ES WE N T TWENT Y TI M ES H IGHER AN D HELPED H IM TO B ECOM E A V E RY POPU L A R A RTIST. I STI LL HAV E T HE ORIGIN AL ARTWOR K .

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I added to my line of corporate greeting cards and stationery. I started to create greeting cards with a new vision and design produced in Iran and Europe, and I also imported cards from Europe. I was representing Rust Craft greeting cards, an American greeting cards company, and a few other European companies, making some in their London facilities and some in Iran. I was also making beer coasters, stickers, labels, and I started my second company for making and importing those products. I traveled quite often to Europe, most often to England. I opened my first foreign bank account at Deutsche Bank in Stuttgart, Germany in 1975.

Once when I was a guest of Dr. Spang, the owner of the company that I was representing in Stuttgart, Germany, he told me that the political situation of Iran was shaky and the regime might change. I was quite confident that the Shah had a strong position and nothing would change, but history proved that I was wrong.

After I got married, my brother Ara left Iran for Beirut, Lebanon. He was admitted to the American University. In 1975, the Lebanese Civil War broke out and so after only a couple years of attending AUB, he left Lebanon for London. Even though my brother

LONDON, EN GLAN D ( 1976 ) — IN A GR E E TIN G CA R D WA R E H OU S E W E I M P ORTE D F RO M, MY F RIEN D A N D SA L ES PE R S ON YOU S E F SA L M AS I ON T H E LEFT, RUPERT MAGN US IN T HE M ID D L E , A N D I’M ON TH E R IGH T. 90

eventually got a scholarship, my dad sent him money as well. I paid rent to my dad for my place. Sometimes I would miss paying the rent, but still it was helpful to him.

During the last five years of my life in Iran I traveled with family to Europe and to the US. I’m glad that I did this instead of leaving them at home while I traveled for business, because it created wonderful memories and experiences. I remember with so much joy our visit to London with my mom. We stayed for a month at the Kensington Hilton. While I was doing my business, she was enjoying the shopping and sightseeing.

I also took Catherine and Meldia to Europe. I was going on a business trip with my friend and we both took our families with us; it became a fun trip for all. In 1977, I traveled with Catherine and Meldia to America for the first time. We visited to New York and Los Angeles and went to Mexico. I became impressed by America and thought that maybe one day we would move here, but didn’t know that would be very soon. In those years my mom and dad traveled to Europe by train, since my dad didn’t like to fly with the exception of coming to America to visit us.

LONDON, EN GLAN D ( 1977) — H AV IN G D IN N E R AT TH E K E N S IN GTON H ILTO N. M Y M OM IS IN T HE MIDDLE AN D M Y FR IE N D, D R . H RAC H PE Z ES H K IA N ’S W I F E ANNETTE, IS O N T HE RIGHT. T H E Y L IV E D IN LON D ON AT TH E TIM E .

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Fleeing Iran

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n late 1977 Iran started to experience some political unrest and you could feel that the general public’s political view was starting to change. They were making negative comments about the Shah, something that was totally new to me and others. Suddenly, on the street and public places, criticism of the Shah became prevalent. The political space when I grew up in Iran was, to some level, a dictatorship. We were free to talk about everything except political issues and comments directed at the Shah. The Shah was the ultimate ruler, but also to a degree he needed to coordinate his rulings with a few superpowers. Primarily this was America, but for years the two major influential nations that indirectly ruled Iran were England and America.

Historically, these governments liked to dictate their visions and needs so they could maximize their benefits. In specific terms that meant optimizing petroleum production and limiting the Soviet Union’s influence in the Middle East. Optimally, they could control a nation’s leader, but they were not averse to a “divide and conquer” strategy. To this end, they always had backup leaders under their control so whenever they had a new plan, it could be implemented through them as well.

During the years Shah had little opposition, but one of them was a Shia Muslim religious leader named Sayyid Ruhollah Musavi Khomeini, known here as the Ayatollah Khomeini. He was such an outspoken critic of most of the Iranian government’s policies that the Shah deported him to Iraq and later to France. During the 70’s Iran, under the leadership of Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, the last Shah, IRA N ( 1 973) — S H A H M OH A M M A D R E Z A PA HL AV I 92

many progressive plans were implemented or started to happen organically and were not opposed by the government. He was a sole decision-maker for the benefit of Iran and the Iranian people. But he was moving in an autonomous direction and supported the rise of oil prices. That wasn’t very easy for the foreign governments to digest, and they started to contemplate regime change in Iran. At this point, Iran was a Muslim country but a very moderate one. People were enjoying the western lifestyle. Women had the freedom to do what they liked and dress however they wanted, and the governance of the people was largely secular. Some Muslims were not very happy with the social and political system, favoring Sharia law, or the integration of governance with religious law.

The foreign governments used these agitators to create unrest and eventually brought Khomeini back to Iran. At that point, America and England asked the Shah to leave the country, and he complied.

They did the same to his dad — the difference was when they deported Reza Shah Pahlavi they brought the son, Mohammad Reza, to power as the new Shah. This time they didn’t bring Shah’s son to power and instead they supported regime change and ending the monarchy in Iran. Masses of the people also supported that vision of the future. In essence, countries like Iran couldn’t survive without the approval and support of superpowers such as Russia (then the USSR) or the US, regardless of the Shah’s decision to stay or to abdicate the throne.

I LEFT IRAN W IT H CATH E R IN E A N D M E L D IA ON E MO N T H BEFOR E TH E S H A H ’S D E PA RTU R E .

The situation wasn’t that bad at the time, but I felt it might get worse and within a week we left Tehran for London. That was in December of 1978. I can’t stress this enough: when I was growing up, Iran and especially the capital, Tehran, was a modern Muslim country, the most liberal of all the surrounding countries. It had few restrictions relating to religion and was comparable to many of the European cities I traveled to. We had nightclubs comparable with any in Europe or America — fine restaurants, the most exclusive clubs, discos with live bands, European performers (sometimes you could even meet and potentially date one of the dancers), casinos and much more. All in a Muslim country. Today Iran is an Islamic Republic after 2,500 years of monarchy. And all of this changed suddenly, within a few months.

Although the timing was sudden, I was not completely unprepared. In a country like Iran, there is no public safety net that provides things like unemployment insurance or social security. You can’t rely on the government and that’s why I had savings when I was in my late 20’s. I also knew that we had to be ready to leave the country at a moment’s notice. We left Iran in a week, after 30 years living there. All we had were three suitcases and $9000. At that time, the government allowed each person to take $3000 out of the country, and we were a family of three. We left everything behind, my office, home and of course, our family and friends. It has been 40 years, and I have never returned.

At first, we thought we might go back soon, that’s why we left our apartment untouched. We didn’t take anything with us. We thought that history might repeat, like 93

it did 20 years prior, when the CIA sent the Shah out of the country and shortly after decided to take him back. It’s funny to even think about the history of the greatness of the Persian empire over the centuries and how things can be changed overnight.

I grew up with terrifying stories of how my mother fled Russia for the relative safety of Iran. We flew to London and stayed in the Hilton Hotel for a month, whereas my mom was almost homeless when her family got to Salmast; these were sad stories, and perhaps I internalized them, and their message.

When we arrived in London, I already had all the contacts in place, my assistant, many business owners and also some friends.

Catherine’s family friend, a wealthy businessman, was also there with his family.

One evening we were invited to his condo for dinner, and during the meal he said, T EH RA N , IRA N ( 1 976 ) — WITH C H A R L ES “Soon we all will go back to AZ N AVOU R , M Y FAVOR ITE S IN GE R OF A L L T I ME , Iran.” He thought, and this IN TH E TE H RA N A R M E N IA N C LU B . H E , B E I NG was a commonly held belief, FR IE N D S WITH E M PR ES S FA R RA H , CA M E TO that like the last time, the IRA N ON H E R IN V ITATION . I GR E W U P IN T H E Shah would return to Iran BEST PE R IOD OF TE H RA N ’S H ISTORY, E N JOY I NG again, and life would return AZ N AVOU R ’S R OM A N TIC S ON GS A N D M A NY to normal. He had some WON D E R FU L M E M OR IES . partnerships with the Shah’s brother in the agricultural sector and was well-connected to the top level of government; he was probably one of very few Armenians that had such a connection. He was, at the time, a self-made millionaire but the connection came from his support of the Shah, in particular for supporting his return the first time that he was exiled. He, and especially 94

his daughters, loved me as a young entrepreneur, and he helped me to get my import license quickly. I had interesting memories in connection with him.

A couple years earlier, on the way to Paris, I met him on the plane by coincidence, and after the plane landed, he offered me a ride from the airport to center of Paris, which I did. He was going to stay at the Intercontinental Hotel. I was planning to stay there also — it was one of the most expensive hotels — and when we arrived at the hotel he told me, “This might be too expensive for you,” and so he asked the concierge to find a more moderate hotel for me. I was too embarrassed to tell him that I could afford to stay there, and in fact, had been planning on it. They found me another hotel and I went there. This one wasn’t as nice as I liked, and there was a water leak from a pipe that dripped all night and disturbed my sleep. The next morning I moved to the Sheraton Hotel, which was newer and as expensive as the Intercontinental. Unfortunately, I started feeling stressed and dizzy, so when I arrived at my room, I called my French friend for help. She came with her husband and called SOS, the French version of 911 but on the lighter side of emergency. A French doctor arrived in a short time and diagnosed that it was the result of anxiety and gave me a shot. After a few hours I was feeling better, but it was a scary feeling.

A similar situation happened on one of my visits to Stuttgart, Germany. I was the guest of Dr Spang, a factory owner, and he and his family were taking me to dinner. I felt my heart beating fast; he felt that maybe I needed to be checked. He immediately called their family cardiologist and his sister took me to the Doctor’s office. Being a weekend, the poor Doctor had to go to his office that evening to examine me. He said that nothing was wrong with my heart and it’s the result of anxiety, so he gave me some relaxation pills.

After dinner, the family took me to my hotel and helped me to rest. I was representing their products in Iran, which were wrapping papers and napkins. I was 26 years old.

When I think of it today that at that age I had so much confidence in dealing with leaders of industries who were my Dad’s age, it surprises me.

We stayed at the Kensington Hilton in London for one month. There I met with several of my British business contacts and asked for their opinion about what my future might be like if I stayed and started a new life in England. When I asked them if I should stay in the UK or go to America, they all advised me to go to America. At the time, the prime minister of the UK was Margaret Thatcher and her policies were not favorable to businesses like mine.

One of the business associates that I knew in London was Rupert Magnus, who was a well-known wholesaler of greeting cards and stationeries. One evening, he sent his driver with his car to pick us up — in his new Jaguar XJS, a 12-cylinder sport car. I was really impressed with the car and a few years after this, in America, I bought one to experience driving it, which was really fun.

The news from Iran was not good; Khomeini flew to Tehran from Paris and became leader of Iran, every day there were demonstrations and it wasn’t really pleasant being there anymore. We would not be able to return at that time, so finally, after a month, we went to New York.

We had traveled to New York the year before, so it wasn’t new to us. Catherine’s uncle and aunty also lived there.

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“

I have been lucky in life and generally whatever I desired or dreamed about I would eventually receive. . .

We stayed for almost a month at Catherine’s aunt’s house in Queens, where she owned a hair salon as well. One of my dad’s cousins, Vartan and his wife Angel, also resided there for many years. They immigrated to the US with their two boys when I was 10 years old.

On one hand, we were waiting to see what would happen in Iran and on the other hand, I was trying to figure out what work I would be doing in America, and where we were going to settle down. I loved New York but being there in December and in the summertime was not enjoyable. We would have to face extreme cold and hot weather — and we had come from a four-season country. We would like the weather in California a lot more. But for now it was Christmas time, and New York was the place to be.

LOS A N GE L ES

I left New York for L.A. by myself to facilitate the arrival of Catherine and Meldia.

I had a few friends in LA; our best man, Armik, and his wife, Marina, were already living here. They came to the U.S. to study few years back and stayed. I had another childhood friend “Serj,” who moved to US many years earlier. Since I had been in Glendale a year earlier, I kind of knew the city. I stayed in a motel on Colorado Blvd. for a week, and when Catherine and Meldia arrived, we moved to a Holiday Inn Hotel. In 1979, that was the only hotel in Glendale, and we stayed there for a month. That was right after New Year’s in 1979. In the hotel there were three families that arrived at almost same time we did. Mr. and Mrs. Garik and their son George, and another couple that we became friends with, a famous Persian singer named Shamaii Zadeh, and a couple other Persians. We were the first arrivals. Financially, even for the ones who had money, it was hard to stomach the cost of living in California — since we were converting in our mind our expenditures from dollars to rial (Iranian currency). Since we were not making any money in the U.S. it was all that we had from Iran. Sometimes we even had a hard time drinking a can of soft drink, because we knew what the cost would be after conversion.

We had to resolve many issues, like where to live (We couldn’t stay at the Holiday Inn forever!), how to remain in America and get a work permit, what we were going to do, and how we would make a living. It was the main subject of our conversations at the hotel when we got together with the group from Iran.

One day we found out that the owner of the hotel also owned some apartment buildings behind the hotel on Doran Street. The rent was $270 per month for a one-

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bedroom apartment. We were paying $45 per night at the hotel; that was our first major discovery. It was quite exciting, sounds funny today how can you get excited, but this was a major step towards getting established.

After almost a month, along with other friends at the hotel, we moved to that apartment building. That was our first rental apartment in Glendale — a very simple, onebedroom, semi-furnished apartment. We even entertained guests in our one-bedroom apartment; one of my friends, “Avik,” came from Iran with his wife to give birth to their first child in the U.S. and stayed in our place for a week.

Catherine and Meldia’s wellbeing and having a comfortable life was really important to me, and this big apartment complex was anything but perfect. But at that point, we didn’t have much choice. It wasn’t even that clear to me what we’re going to do with our lives in a new country with an unknown future…

It’s very unfair that a few politicians can change millions of people’s lives. They changed the destiny of Middle East forever. The funniest part is that the leaders of these countries are supposedly being elected democratically, and promoting democracy in

GLENDALE, CALIFO RN IA ( 1979 ) — M Y FIR ST CA R IN A M E R ICA WAS A C HEVROLET MO N T E CARLO — A B IG TWO D OOR CA R . I B OU GH T IT FR O M A DEALER ON GLEN DALE AV E. FOR $35 00 IN 1 979 . IT WAS A FE W YE A R S O L D, BUT I N V ERY N ICE S HAPE. F IF TY YE A R S AGO, IN IRA N , TH E R E WAS A H U G E TARI FF ON FOREIGN CARS . T H E GOV E R N M E N T WA N TE D TO S U PPORT A ND ENCOURAGE T HE MAN UFACT UR E A N D AS S E M B LY OF CA R S IN IRA N TO H EL P TH E ECONOMIC PROGRES S OF TH E COU N TRY, WH IC H IT D ID. 97

the world, but they are rightly viewed as dictators by the rest of the world. It’s true that each nation deserves the leadership that governs them, but only if other nations don’t interfere.

Meldia found a couple friends who also lived at the apartment building, but it wasn’t the lifestyle that I could have been satisfied and happy with, especially for her and Catherine. One day when I came home, I saw that Catherine had tears in her eyes.

The mean manager had complained about Meldia’s playing outside, and at that point I knew we had to move out and get our own house, which we did, but only after moving temporarily to a newly-built two-bedroom and two-bath apartment with central air and heat. I didn’t want Tina to arrive in that one-bedroom apartment. When we arrived in the U.S. Catherine was already pregnant with my second daughter, Tina. Rent for the new apartment was $570.00 but that was fine, since we could enjoy a better quality of life there.

G LENDAL E, CALIFORN IA ( 1979 ) — M E L D IA ON H E R B IK E WITH H E R N E W FRI ENDS N T HE COURT YAR D OF OU R FIR ST R E N TA L A PA RTM E N T I N G LENDAL E. IT WAS O N DORAN ST. B E H IN D WH E N WAS TH E N TH E H OL I DAY I NN AND N OW T HE DAYS IN N . WE WE R E TH E R E FOR ON LY S IX M ON TH S .

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TI NA’S ARRIVAL

Tina’s arrival brought joy to us; she brought happiness and luck, she was really cute, and that’s exactly how she is today. Tina was born on July 22, 1979, our first child in our new country. She helped me to feel that we could have hope again.

Catherine was introduced to Dr. David McAninch by one of our friends, and it was he who delivered Tina at the Memorial Hospital in Glendale.

It was interesting that along with the joy of Tina’s arrival, I was also experiencing the same anxiety and pressure that I felt during the arrival of Meldia. The situation in Iran wasn’t getting better and our thoughts that the Shah might GL E N DA L E , CA L IFOR N IA ( 1 979 ) — TIN A’ S return became an illusion. Iran A R R IVA L GAV E M E A N D M Y FA M ILY TH E J OY became the Islamic Republic of A N D I L IV E WITH TH AT JOY TIL L TODAY. S H E Iran and women were ordered WAS TH E C U TEST A N D SWE E TEST BA BY A ND to cover themselves, something STAY E D TH E SA M E A L L TH OS E Y E A R S . that the father of the Shah fought against for years in the early 20th century. His dream was to make Iran a modern Muslim country and allowing women the freedom to dress as they like was a key issue, and one the first things Khomeini sought to overturn.

IM M IGRATION

I had to secure our permanent residency in America. I had to get a work permit and a green card (which was quite challenging), to start a business, and to start making money in a country that hardly I knew anything about, since I didn’t go to school in the U.S. and didn’t know the culture. Things were tense. During that time Iran’s revolutionary guards occupied the American embassy in Tehran and took many Americans hostage. If someone asked where we were from it was hard to tell them that we were from Iran, since people were really mad about the Iranian hostage situation and they didn’t understand that we were also victims of the Iranian Revolution. When I rented my first office on Pacific Avenue in Glendale, the landlord told me one day that if he had the chance he would take his gun and go and kill the Iranians. That was the mood at the time.

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I was introduced to an American-born Chinese man named Bill Lew. He was young and sharp, and he was also a great immigration lawyer. When I explained our situation to him, his vision was that the fastest and best way to get our green cards was to go through inter-company transferring and open a corporation in America. It may have been a more costly approach, but it was much faster, since I had the company in Iran and a branch office in London. His idea was to open another branch office in the U.S., and I would be assigned to manage newly-formed office here. I followed his advice, and his charges were about $2000.

I registered a new company, rented an office, and asked my father and employees in Iran and in England to send letters requesting to open a branch office in the U.S. with me as the director for that branch. In the meantime, I had to hire an employee and put her on the payroll.

By coincidence, that employee was Catherine’s American professor at the university in Iran, who started to work in my newly opened office as a secretary. I tried to continue the greeting card business, and reached out to my American and European contacts, but after several months of correspondence I came to the conclusion that because of the extremely competitive nature of the business in the U.S. it would be really hard to become successful. I was also kind of tired of dealing with the low price of single greeting cards.

You might sell thousands of them, but the inventory, restocking and accounting made it hardly worth the effort.

We got our green card in less time than any of our other friends — in less than six months. The whole process cost me around $20,000.00 for something that my Grandfather Arakel (Dad’s Father) paid $1 for 70 years before. But it was well worth it. We became permanent residents and received our green cards.

It was hard to live in a state of uncertainty in a new country. We had to learn everything from scratch, and I had to create my own business without a mentor.

It didn’t feel good when I was spending from my savings.

Making decisions was hard because the consequences were high whether that was buying something, including property, or starting a business. I didn’t GL E N DA L E , CA L IFOR N IA ( 1 979 ) — M E L D IA I N have much room for mistakes.

FR ON T OF M Y FIR ST OFFIC E IN A M E R ICA

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Our New Home

I

n late 1979, after living in two different apartments, I bought a house at 1205 Virginia Ave, Glendale for $91,500.00. It was a two-bedroom, one-bath house built in the 1930’s with a nice floor plan. The neighborhood was great. The house was located across from Toll Junior High School and Hoover High School. Next door was Catherine’s mom’s cousin Nersik’s house. His daughters were flower girls at our wedding. Nersik was the one who found out that his neighbor was trying to sell his house and informed us. The sellers didn’t have any agent, so Armik (our best man), who was a broker, helped us with the paperwork and he and his wife Marina became co-signers for the loan. Without them it would have been hard, maybe even impossible, for us to finance this house. I put 20 percent as a down payment and got a loan for 80 percent of the purchase price from Bank of America; the interest rates were quite high at that time, around 12 percent.

G LENDAL E, CALIFO RN IA ( 198 5 ) — TIN A IS S E L L IN G OU R FIR ST H OU SE I N AM ERI CA , O N 120 5 V IRGIN IA AV E .

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We lived in that house for almost five years until we moved to our second house.

Those five years for me were the most challenging and learning-intense period. We already knew that we are going to stay in America. My dad, little by little, was liquidating the inventories of my company in Iran and was sending the me the money.

My mom and Catherine’s mom visited us during that time and stayed with us for a month or two; they were so excited about Tina’s arrival and also missed Meldia.

Catherine’s parents finally sold their house in Tehran and moved to the U.S. for good.

During those five years, we also had other guests in our house, Yestik, my cousin who was living in Paris, moved to Glendale and stayed with us for a while. My brother Ara who graduated from Iowa State also came to Glendale and sometimes stayed with us. We were quite busy during those years in our two-bedroom house entertaining our guests. During this time, I had the chance to find few of my old best friends in L.A. One morning, I was shopping at the supermarket on Central Avenue and suddenly I noticed one of my best friends from high school walking towards me. It was Khosrow! A great coincidence and a complete surprise.

It’s hard to understand the universe and time. If I were a minute earlier or later, I would have never have had the chance to meet him. That meeting brought all of our memories back. We continued our friendship till today.

Following that meeting I had a great surprise party for my 33rd birthday. Khosrow and Ardi, another of my friends from Iran, invited me and my family to Ardi’s house for a special dinner that Ardi’s wife, Marie France, made for my birthday. The dinner was delicious, and we really enjoyed it, and after dinner they asked us to go to their backyard for a drink. At the time that Ardi was opening the champagne bottle, Khosrow drove in with a Rolls Royce. That was the greatest surprise gift for me ever. The gift was to have the car for the weekend. They knew that I dreamed of one day having that car. I was really shocked and still thankful for GL E N DA L E , CA L IFOR N IA ( 1 9 84 ) — their sentimental and sweet thought. M E L D IA A N D TIN A IN FR ON T OF O U R That encouraged me to buy two Rolls V IR GIN IA AV E H OU S E , TOP, AT THEI R Royces later on.

GRA N D PA R E N TS H OU S E , B OTTOM .

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NORTH RIDGE, CALIFORN IA ( 19 81 ) — A R D I, TH E S U R FIN G C H A M PION , ME AND CATHERIN E IN ARDI’S BAC K YA R D OR M Y B IRTH DAY S U R PR IS E — A ROLLS ROYCE FO R T HE W EEKE N D.

A few years later, Catherine also held a surprise party for my birthday at the banquet hall of the Armenian church and invited a few of our friends. But the biggest birthday party that I ever had was for my 40th birthday in our Avonoak house. Since my birthday is in November, we needed to put up a tent outside next to the pool to accommodate the guests. The party was quite memorable, we had a band and around 80 guests. My birthday cake was a fancy one, with a volcano in the middle, and it was a beautiful and elegant party.

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T HE F U R N ITU R E B U S IN ES S

As far as my work, it was a discovery period. The first and only mentor that I had, and this was only for a short time, was an old American businessman, who for many years had an antique and used furniture business on San Fernando Road in Glendale. He was about 80 years old, and I met him in his store when I walked in looking to buy some furniture. He was very interesting man, very experienced, and worked for many years with his son, who was about 50 years old, buying entire estates and selling the inventories in their store and warehouse. I met him several times. He liked to talk and share his experiences with the business. Somehow, that business kind of called to me, although it was unlike any of my other startups or my educational training. This was far more than just selling used furniture; it covered everything from dealing with estate sales, furniture, household items, jewelry, and antiques. He used to say “You make money when you buy.”

His stories about the business were really exciting, and since I always liked learning new things, especially in art and antiques, I applied that enthusiasm towards learning as much as I could about this venture. I learned in just a few sessions many things about the business, like pricing, how and where to find the inventories, auctions; it was also very educational. I started to search for different styles of furniture and the craftsmen of different periods and pricing their works of art.

G LENDAL E, CALIFORN IA ( 1991) —IN FR ON T OF OU R AVON OA K H OU S E . T H I S I S M Y SECO N D RO LLS ROYCE, TH E FIR ST ON E WAS Y E L LOW. 104

It was about this time that Catherine’s parents immigrated from Iran and were looking into starting a business. There was a Chinese couple that owned a new furniture store in Glendale. They carried mostly low-end furniture, and it was a profitable business.

After a few meetings I convinced them to sell their business. They had a store at the corner of San Fernando Road and Los Feliz Boulevard, and I made a deal to buy the business for $20,000.00, which was really a good deal. I negotiated with my in-laws to become partners with me in this purchase, but after I finalized the deal with the Chinese couple, things changed, and they decided to invest in it alone. The business became successful over the next ten years till my brother-in-law, Karen, tried to expand it, and unfortunately started gambling. Ultimately they lost the business and everything else they owned.

I was disappointed by not being included as part owner of this furniture business after setting up the deal but decided that I would be better off striking out on my own.

I started to search for a location to start my own furniture and antique business from scratch. I started the business with only a few thousand dollars. First, I found a small warehouse/storefront for $200.00 per month. Then, and by using my already established greeting card company, started to buy and sell used furniture, art objects and paintings.

The store was located on Verdugo Road in Eagle Rock, near the exit of the 2 freeway. The location wasn’t that great, but I managed to have clients through signs and advertisements.

It was an exciting business. It was like a treasure hunt, where you might uncover an object of real value unexpectedly. That was really the nature of the business, but it couldn’t happen every day — maybe once every two or three months if you were lucky.

LOS ANGELES , CALIFO RN IA ( 1 9 81 ) — M Y FU R N ITU R E A N D A N TIQ U E WAREH OUS E, A FEW BLO CKS FR OM GL E N DA L E IN E AGL E R OC K ON V E R D UG O ROAD. 105

I advertised to buy estates in the yellow pages of the phone book and in different magazines. It was a fun time, like always. A year after starting the business, I realized most of the stuff that I was buying needed repair or refinishing. I expanded the warehouse and made a small repair area for antiques; during those years I always had someone to fix the furniture and soon we became pretty good at repairing antiques. From childhood I always liked wood and wood products, so this business came very naturally to me.

One aspect of this business that I found amazing is how people accumulate objects their entire life, sometimes even without enjoying and using them, and then they pass these things to the next generation... who don’t want them. Many of my customers couldn’t care less about researching the family antiques they had inherited, they just wanted to get rid of them at any price.

This was a business where you always leaned something new. I became familiar with auction houses, and during the early 1980s, I bought and sold many items through them. For couple of years I had a space in an antique mall and got to know many dealers who specialized in different fields of antiques and art objects.

I think if the purpose of business life is only to become wealthy, maybe I wouldn’t have pursued this interest, but I always liked to explore fields that are interesting and exciting to me and, if and when I got tired of it, I shifted to a different field. The important part was that I always had fun, regardless how much money I made, but I always lived with excitement at the time and with the memories afterwards.

LOS A N GE L ES , CA L IFOR N IA ( 1 9 83) — W I T H A B E AU TIFU L WOM A N IN ON E OF MY WA R E H OU S ES .

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A Major Change

M

eldia and Tina started attending the newly established Chamlian Armenian School, and we were happy that they would learn how to read and write in Armenian. The first five years from my arrival in America in 1978 to the current year of 1983 were a learning period and a time to evaluate the possibilities going forward, even though this period of my life wasn’t a successful one financially. I was upset about the relationship that we had with my in-laws which stemmed from the furniture business debacle. We owned our house, had a nice car, and owned a business but we weren’t at the level of affluence that I was hoping for.

I observed something that was simple and was surprised that I hadn’t noticed it before. This works for any career. I asked myself to identify the most successful person in my field of business and estimate what he or she could expect to make financially.

GLENDALE, CALIFO RN IA ( EARLY 80 S ) — ON E OF M Y FAVOR ITE PICTU R ES O F TI NA AND MELIDA. 107

The answer wasn’t satisfactory. There just wasn’t enough of a profit margin in the used furniture business to provide the kind of lifestyle I wanted to have for myself and my family.

I decided I should go in a business that is exciting to me and even the dumbest person could make decent money with greater potential than the furniture and antique business. At the time that was real estate.

So after being in the antique business for about four years, I realized that it’s hard to have a good income in that field. It’s exciting but brings in little money, more like a hobby.

Since my childhood, I always loved beautiful things; houses, five-star hotels and an elegant lifestyle was important to me and this business wouldn’t lead me to that. Today, I like a more simple lifestyle but in those days I was still interested in a more exotic way of living and that’s how I noticed that an average real estate agent was making more than I was with no overhead and no inventory.

I applied for a real estate license while I still had my furniture business. I passed the real estate exam on the second try. I got my salesperson license and I was ready to work for a real estate company. In the beginning I thought that I could do both at the same time, real estate and my furniture business, but later on I realized that in order to be successful I had to focus only on real estate.

My first job with Sterpa Real Estate. As a salesperson, I had to work for a company under a broker, and I also needed to get some experience with the business. The real estate company was only two blocks away from our house on Virginia, so it was really convenient.

I found my first client from the Recycler magazine. They happened to be an Armenian family and by coincidence were related to the Satos (my sister-in-law’s family).

My first sale to them was probably one of the toughest sales I ever had in my real estate career. They were first-time buyers. When I found the right house for them and we opened escrow, the family members (especially the dad) became scared to go through with the purchase. The son came to my office through the process of the sale and asked me to cancel the transaction. He was worried that his father would have a heart attack because of this purchase. I convinced him and the family to go forward since I completely believed that it was a good deal for them, and they would make a profit by purchasing the home. That was the pattern that I always followed during my real estate career — that if I didn’t feel good about the house and didn’t believe that it was a good deal for the buyer or seller, then I wouldn’t recommend it. Eventually we closed the deal, they purchased the house and lived there happily until they bought a better house years after and sold their first house with a good profit. They were always thankful that I supported them in buying their first house.

After my first transaction I gained more confidence and decided not to stay in a company that would take half of my commission, so I moved to Verdugo Realty. It was established a year earlier by a family friend of my best man, Armik. It was 1983. In this company I would pay a fixed amount for each transaction, regardless the dollar value of the deal, which was much more beneficial to me financially than the previous one.

I developed my real estate career. Within six months of working there, I was 108

selling more real estate than the ten other agents there combined. At that point, the owner decided to sell the company. I bought Verdugo Realty and I still own it. Since I only had a salesperson’s license and not the broker’s license, which I got in later years, I needed to use someone else’s broker’s license for the company, for which I’d pay a fee.

First, I used my friend Khosro’s, and when my brother joined the company, he became the broker.

Khachik Sarajian was the one who started Verdugo Realty. When I joined them, it was located in a shopping center at the corner of Broadway and Chevy Chase. The space was about 1800 square feet and the rent was $1,200 per month. In the six years that I was at that location, not only it was a financially successful period but also a life-learning period for me. I was lucky again. The right people came into my life which helped me in my success.

“

I believe that if you surround yourself with the people that click with you and have same energy and vision, they will help you in your success. The opposite is also true...

G LENDAL E, CALIFORN IA ( 1989) — AT V E R D U GO R E A LTY, M Y B R OTH E R A RA FI RST LE F T, PROPERT Y MAN AGE R A R M IK , S ECON D FR OM L E FT, A N D NEX T TO M E, AR MON D IN SALES .

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That’s exactly what happened to my personal and business life. I had a client, who was also a friend, that brought energy and support to me. Interestingly, that was the third time that he was with me in my life and giving off his super energy. When I was teenager and didn’t have driver license, he drove my dad’s car and helped me to throw parties in our summer home and was always there to create happy times. When I started my own company for the first time back in Iran, he was the one who introduced me to my first client which helped to kick off my business. In the U.S. when he became my client in real estate, he changed the spirit of my business. He brought life and joy with success. The most important part was that he made me happy and left me with many sweet memories.

I found the best right-hand person who also brought me joy and success.

“

As long as you have the right people on your side, success and the joy of life will be always with you. . .

During first three years in that company, my lifestyle totally changed and went back to the level that we had in Iran. I remodeled the office, made a nice, private office for me with French doors and added a conference room.

Shortly after I bought the company, observing the opportunities, I asked my brother to join me. He already had his real estate license and was working with my high school friend, Khosrow. I had introduced them and they were working in the Woodland Hills area, which was about 20 miles away from Glendale. That was the city where I bought my first investment property with my brother, a vacant lot on Medina Dr for $35,000.

The main reason we chose that city was because Khosrow, who was already a real estate broker, and his friend Ardi, who also became my friend, were involved in buying and selling real estate there and were doing pretty well.

E R IK ’S A R R IVA L

Erik was born in 1985. He brought so much joy to our lives. I was lucky again since I wanted to have a boy but never thought that he would exceed my dreams. He also brought me luck. Erik was born at Glendale memorial hospital on February 23, 1985. Same hospital and by the same doctor who delivered Tina. 1985 was the year that everything had changed for me. I chose to be in the right business. I got to know the new country better and felt more confident. At the time we were still living in our first house.

I used to take Meldia to the school in the morning. One morning in 1985 before I took Meldia to class, I said to her, “Let’s stop by and see a house.” The house was on Avonoak Terrace.

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I got the key for the house from the lockbox, which was outside, and we entered the house. It was beautiful with background music playing. It was decorated really elegantly.

There was a nice chess table with a chair on each side near the side window. The kitchen was clean and well-organized like nobody was living there. It was like a showcase house.

I even remember today where I was standing in the living room when Meldia said, “Dad let’s buy this house.” The way she said it touched me. I bought the house. Our Avonoak house was quite comfortable, it was about 2,700 sq/ft, four bedrooms and three baths with a pool. We lived in that house for 18 years until Erik graduated from high school.

Looking back, 1983-1989 were the years of opportunity. It was a period where many multi-unit apartments were constructed in Glendale, city zoning laws were going to be changed and many property owners tried to get plans and permits to build apartments before the zone change. The real estate market was booming, and many Armenian newcomers were trying to buy properties and build apartments. The real estate prices still were quite reasonable even though property prices were going up. I just happened to be at the right place in the right time with the right people.

GLENDALE, CALIFO RN IA ( 1999 ) — C H R ISTM AS AT OU R AVON OA K H OU S E. M OM WI T H MEL, T IN A, AN D ER IK .

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America created a unique immigrant culture, which you hardly see in other countries. In Iran, I felt a strong connection with the people, to the extent that it was hard to be separated from them. People tried to create their life and business by using the connections that they had. It is very community-focused. In America, the connection is to the opportunities that are created, and can be equal, regardless of whether you were born here or just arrived, and THAT’S WHY WE’RE HERE. People came to this country not because the connection that they felt with people, but because the opportunities that they could have.

Financially I was doing well since we moved to the Avonoak house, but emotionally I wasn’t in great shape. I was still feeling a certain level of anxiety and with Catherine, the differences in our visions for life would add to my stress level most of the time.

LIV IN G AT AVON OA K TE R RAC E

We lived at the Avonoak house for 18 years. During that time, we had many special events and countless memories.

The kids graduated from high school and later from Glendale College. Erik and Tina were elected the man and the woman of the year at the collage. After the college they both attended UCLA. Erik received his Eagle Scout in high school, which was very important to me.

Erik, with the support of Catherine, became involved in scouting in childhood, and because of Erik’s participation, I also became involved with the Verdugo Hills Council of Boy Scouts for several years. It was interesting period for me, since for the first time in America I was on the board of directors of an American organization. I never had an interest in scouting at a younger age.

For the six years that I was on the board of directors I learned a lot about American culture, and the way the parents were trying to help youngsters to become better people.

It was also good training for coping with many issues of life. I was the chair of fundraising for many years, also Vice President of Finance and was involved in handling many issues with Boy Scouts of America in the area. I got to know many good people and became friends with some of them. We also had many fundraising events in our house.

There was a time that Erik wanted to quit scouting. He was about 12 years old. He didn’t like the scout master of his group. I was against changing troops, but Catherine went for the change and took Erik to a different troop where the troop leader was more pleasant to Erik, and thank god, because of that Erik went forward and completed his scouting. I supported the idea and eventually extended Eagle Scouting to the Armenian Boy Scouts. Armenian scouts were going to all the training sessions that American scouts were doing but were not being acknowledged by the Boy Scouts of America to receive the eagle scout award. I was happy that I could help to achieve in reaching that goal after arranging many meetings and developing the vision.

Erik grew up in the Avonoak house since he was one year old. He attended the same Armenian kindergarten that his sisters went to. Catherine didn’t want Erik to continue his elementary in Armenian school. She wanted him to be with kids of different ethnicities and to attend public school. I was against it, but finally I agreed. Catherine 112

G LENDAL E, CALIFO RN IA ( EARLY ‘ 9 0 S ) — GL E N DA L E B OA R D OF E D U CAT I O N. ERI K I S GET T IN G A PHOTO GRA PH Y AWA R D. TH IS AWA R D WAS VE RY I M P ORTAN T TO ME, MAYBE MO R E TH A N WAS TO E R IK . I WAS PR OU D OF HI M.

always liked to push through her ideas and visions, which most of the time bothered me. Maybe her approach was what really irritated me, and the funny part was that she always would say, “I always did exactly what you wanted.” I’m happy now that he went to public school, especially to the Verdugo Woodlands School. He received many benefits being at the public school when he had difficulties with subjects. The school was only a few minutes drive to our house, so it was really very convenient for us. I loved Erik’s school and the principal. She was a Japanese-American lady, Mrs Hanada. Erik also did his final Eagle Scout project there. It was making the kindergarten’s outdoor playground beautiful with paintings for the kids on the walls.

Erik liked our Avonoak house. I think he had quite a lot of fun growing up there.

He learned to swim. We had many birthday parties for him, Tina and Meldia. He also had a pet. A tortoise. He loved playing with the tortoise till he got lost in the street and that was a sad occurrence. But we also had a life-changing event there, and because of Erik I quit smoking.

I still remember the exact location in our kitchen that Erik confronted me and cried and begged me to quit smoking. He said, “I want to have a dad, I don’t want to lose you!” That was really touching to me. I quit, and never smoked again. Erik, like his sisters, went to Wilson Junior and to Glendale High. There he became more and more focused on his studies and got evolved in sports. He became a good swimmer and eventually he joined the water polo team of Glendale high which made me very happy and proud. I loved to watch their team compete with other teams, but I would feel pain myself when he would be under attack or got injured during the meet. This happened once and his shoulder was injured.

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I have an interesting memory of Erik’s childhood. Catherine took Erik to violin classes for almost two years. One day she told me that we were going with Erik to an Armenian master of violin instruction for evaluation of Erik’s progress.

Catherine and Erik and I went to meet this famous instructor in his house. After some brief introduction he asked his son, who was almost Erik’s age, to bring a violin and he passed the violin to Erik. He asked Erik to play something. It was a few minutes after Erik started to play that he asked him to stop. He turned to us and said, “You are all wasting your time. The way he’s playing after two years of taking classes is not satisfactory.” He said if Erik started taking lessons with him, his progress will be much better since he would be under more pressure under his instruction and should take the lessons very seriously. After Erik heard his comments, he turned to me and said dad “I have a headache, can we go?” Finally, we left the master’s GL E N DA L E , CA L IFOR N IA ( E A R LY ‘ 9 0 S ) — E R IK A N D H IS PE T TORTOIS E . house and Erik was relieved. As I remember, he didn’t continue taking lessons anymore. Since Erik was used to his American teacher who always said, “You can do it!” and how great a job he was doing but after hearing the negative comments, he became totally disappointed.

One morning Catherine was taking Erik to school, and on the way, she had a stop to deliver a letter to our friend who lived about a block away from our house. When she parked the car in front of our friend’s house, she left the car without using the hand break and left Erik alone in the car. The street sloped downhill. Erik started to touch the gear shift and suddenly the stick went to the neutral position from park and the car started to move. I can imagine how scared Erik was. Fortunately, the wheels were banked towards the left and in less than a block the car hit the side curve of the neighbor’s block wall, which was only about two feet high. The difference between Erik’s accident and mine was that I hit a tree.

When Catherine called me, I was scared and nervous but happy that nothing happened to Erik. I immediately asked my handyman to find the exact match of the 114

damaged blocks and replaced them. The damaged area was only about four feet long and a few feet high. The owner of the house wasn’t satisfied, and when she came to our house to complain Catherine, against my request didn’t talk to her and kind of ignored her. She sued Catherine.

We had been in America for 15 years, and this was the first time that someone sued us. I didn’t have any experience in these kinds of legal issues. I contacted an attorney and two contractors, took pictures of the scene. I did all the preparation for Catherine to defend herself and us in court. Before the court date, I asked those advisers to come to our house and prepare Catherine. I even had a contractor inspect the fixed area and surrounding area and with photos make a statement that it was fixed properly. Actually, it was really fixed nicely. It couldn’t have been better. The handy man replaced only about 8 to 10 blocks, but obviously with the difference in age between the old one and the new one, the color match was slightly different. Which you could only see if you were extremely close.

After a full preparation of Catherine next morning I went with her to the court. At the court, the judge first asked the neighbor to present her case. She said that because of the accident her blood pressure went up and she had to go to doctor and take medication and showed a bill for $1,400 and then showed closeup photos of the blocks and asked for

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a damages total of around $3,500. Then judge turned to Catherine and asked what’s her statement. She responded that I guess whatever the neighbor claimed sounds right, and she had no more comments and no defense at all. Later on, my property manager asked me about the case and after I described what happened he told me, “You’re lucky that you didn’t have a heart attack,” and said if it was him, he would.

Of course, the judgment was in favor of the plaintiff. I always remember that how mad Catherine’s mom would get remembering that my father-in-law also did the same to her. Even though he was a very nice person and I loved him.

I had a memorable car accident years back in Tehran. It kind of illustrates the tensions I had with Catherine in these situations and how, rather than this incident being anomalous, it was really part of a pattern.

I was taking my parents to the train station for their departure to Europe. Catherine was also in the car and I was the driver. When I reached an intersection the traffic light was yellow and before it turned red, I passed into the intersection. From the other side, the driver was rushing and instead of paying attention to his traffic light, noticing that my light turned yellow, rushed through and hit my car in the middle of the intersection.

As usual, at the time of accident many people gathered and finally the police came. We each represented our case and I explained what happened, of course the other driver said the opposite. Suddenly Catherine jumped in, without even being asked, and told the police the opposite of my statement that I ran the red light. The officer who was kind of shocked and so were the other people there. They asked me, “Who’s this lady,?” I responded that she’s my wife. Of course, I lost the case and this affected me deeply since she was never even asked her opinion and wasn’t correct anyway.

Unfortunately, this pattern of Catherine’s actions or reactions always existed in our married life.

Most of the time Catherine made decisions without analyzing and taking under consideration many factors. It was opposite of my style.

I needed to think more and evaluate many aspects of the situation lots of times before coming to a final conclusion. Sometimes her way of doing things worked better but I wasn’t ready for that yet, which E U R OPE — M OM A N D DA D ON VACAT I O N created conflicts.

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Tina and Meldia were cheerleaders in school, which made me a proud father. I was always happy and proud that all my kids had a group of great friends.

Tina and Meldia each had about five very close friends, some even from kindergarten. As parents, we didn’t have to do anything to cause them to make friends with these kids, they themselves were always on the right track. Being around N E W YOR K — M E L D IA A N D TIN A a “bad influence” was never a problem. They all were great achievers, and now after many years all of them became successful individuals and are still in touch with each other. I loved Erik’s friends. I enjoyed checking in to see how they were doing, and I had fun when I was with them.

NEW YO RK ( 1989) — A FAMILY VACATION — WE IN V ITE D CATH E R IN E ’S FATHER AS W ELL. 117

Growing Up

TI NA’ S GRADUAT IO N FROM HIGH S C H OOL ( L E FT) A N D TH E N FR OM GL E N DA L E COLLEGE WAS Q UIT E MEMORA B L E . S H E WAS TH E H OM ECOM IN G Q U E E N I N H I G H SC HOO L, LIKE MELDIA, A N D A L S O WAS IN VOLV E D IN GL E N DA L E H IG H ’ S C H EER SQ UAD ( RIGHT ).

I always say how proud I am of my children — and I am. But I can’t stress enough that they have excelled because of their own hard work. We did not push them, they followed their own interests, and they achieved the goals they set for themselves. This makes me even more proud of them than if I had been pulling the strings. Their interests are different from mine and from Catherine’s, but they have each achieved success in their own areas.

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Erik was on the water polo team at Glendale High, and I felt so bad when he had to get up very early in the morning for practice, but it was a worthy enterprise since he got into great physical shape. In college he was busy with so many activities; he was Vice President of Finance, and always had a meeting or activity to go to as well as his classes. When the developer of the Americana at Brand, Rick Caruso, presented his proposal to the city council many citizens of Glendale were not in favor of the development. But Erik had the vision of how important the shopping center and apartments could be for the city. He put together a team to support the idea and did cold calls to get peoples’ vote. Finally, the developer won and was very thankful to Erik for his support. He made a great recommendation of Erik for USC. GLENDALE — ERIK AT WAT ERPOLO PRACTIS E ( A B OV E ), R EC IE V IN G M A N O F TH E YEAR AT GLEN DALE COLL EGE ( B E LOW) A N D ON TE L E V IS ION ( IN S E T ) ACTI NG AS T HE PLAN N IN G CO M M IS ION E R FOR TH E C ITY OF GL E N DA L E.

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CALI FORN IA — T IN A WAS VOT E D WOM A N OF TH E YE A R AT GL E N DA L E COLLEGE ( LEFT ), AN D ERIC STA RTIN G C L AS S ES AT U S C ( R IGH T).

When the kids graduated from high school, I bought each of them a new car, but none of them took advantage of asking for an expensive one, Tina didn’t even mind what make of car. Meldia and Erik wanted a specific car which I challenged buying at first, but after thinking it over I agreed to go with it based on their request. I’m happy that I did.

For Tina, I got a white Toyota as surprise, parked it in front of our house and placed a big ribbon on top. When we came home from the graduation ceremony her gift was parked there. I guess she liked it but didn’t get too excited. Maybe she already knew about it.

They all were humble in their choices, which made me a happy dad.

How lucky can you be to have children like them? They’re such a great mix of me and Catherine.

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GLENDALE ( LAT E ‘9 0 S ) — IN TH E AVON OA K H OU S E WITH M Y K ID S , NEP H EWS AN D N IECES .

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Rebuilding

I

n June 1990, there was a huge fire in Glendale which destroyed or damaged 64 homes and caused $19 million in damage. Glendale Fire Chief John Montenero was deservedly blamed for taking no action to protect the homes in College Hills (our area) and as a result 16 homes burned to the ground. I personally saw two homes burn on our street, but fortunately the fire stopped two houses away from ours. When the owners of those houses rebuilt, we did an extensive remodel as well. We kept most of the original house but added 1800 square feet. Living there while all of this construction was taking place was challenging, but it was also exciting to see the progress. In fact, I would say that this was one of the most exciting projects of my life. I think we all should experience building a house.

G LENDAL E, CALIFORN IA ( 1991 ) — R E B U IL D IN G OU R H OU S E ON AVONOA K TERRAC E. CON ST RUCT IO N TOOK A L M OST TWO YE A R S TO COM PL E TE , A ND WE LI VED IN T HE HO US E T HE WH OL E TIM E TH AT IT WAS B E IN G R E M OD E L E D. I T WAS A FUN PROJECT. LOO K IN G BAC K , I WOU L D H AV E D ON E IT AGA IN. 122

“

Every action that I took in my life became a memorable one.

The joyful ones made me happy. There were some that had a negative impact. Thinking back today I shouldn’t have ever stopped taking planned actions in my life, otherwise I’m wasting my time. . .

The remodeling cost me about $200,000.00; it would have cost $600,000.00 today.

A few years ago, Catherine wrote an article titled, “Remembering the College Hills Fire,” which I just read again. I really liked it. Her writing replicates her exact personality. That to me makes it more interesting, since I know her. I really liked our house when it was completed. The floor plan was really nice, especially the living and dining areas. It was very spacious. I loved having parties there.

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MY FATH E R ’S D E PA RTU R E

I had a big loss in August of 1995. My father passed away at the age of 82. He wasn’t feeling well and had been suffering from Parkinson’s disease for a couple of years and didn’t have a good quality of life overall. I was out of town with Catherine when I heard the bad news. Even though I was kind of expecting that one day in the not-too-distant future I would get this call, it was still really sad to lose my father. A father that spent all his existence trying to make a better life for me and our family and was always there for me. I was always top priority for him. He would be more excited by my successes than anyone else. He had a very romantic personality which I loved. He also loved literature and history and reading. He loved flowers and beautiful things, just like me, and loved to give flowers to my mom. Most of the time we bought them when we were out together.

He loved to see the world. He also loved poetry and to write poems. My brother printed out some of those poems and we passed them out during his funeral. He was also a good singer and the best speaker. Among all his friends he was always the one at events making speeches that would impress everybody. There is not a single day that I don’t remember him.

We had a big funeral for him. Many people were present. I think he would have liked that.

One of the dreams my dad had was to visit Armenia. Unfortunately, he never had that chance, but I made it up for him. Catherine and I traveled to Armenia for the first time with the Armenian Education Foundation in 2001. It is an interesting experience to see your ancestor’s country. My father always talked about Armenia and the achievers there since I was a child. For me, being in Armenia was like I was carrying my dad’s dream. The entire time we were there everything reminded me of him, especially when we were having dinner in a restaurant and a singer sang a song that my dad used to sing.

It was really touching, and compelled me to give a donation on behalf of my dad.

TAKIN G A BREAK From childhood, I always liked to have projects in my life.

That made me happy and helped me to have a more meaningful existence.

There were times in my life when I had fewer events that I can remember. When I was 44 to 52 years old, (between 1992 – 2000) I was experiencing a period of personal recovery.

Start projects, find joy, create memories.

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A couple of years ago I was passing by our old house on Avonoak Terrace and saw an open house. Being curious, I went in the house to check it out. The sales lady asked me if I was looking to buy, and I told her, “No, I used to live at 1144 Avonoak Terrace and just wanted to get an idea about current prices.” Suddenly a couple from upstairs said, “We live there now!” They came down and I introduced myself. They were a very nice couple, they said that they bought the house from the family that we sold it to. They asked me to follow them to the house showed me the improvements that they had made. They did a great job. I told them that I would love to give them the plans of the house with the changes that we did. They became really happy and excited. Before I left the house, an idea came to my mind. I told them, “My kids grew up in this house and now two of them are married and have their own kids, how about if I surprise them and bring them here and show their families where their mom grew up?” They loved and welcomed the idea. When I went home, I started to collect all the memorable family photos that we had during the 18 years of living there. I made a nice display board with the heading “Memories of 18 Years” and attached the photos to the board. I called the new owners and made arrangements for a day to take the family there. I told everyone in my family that on such a date I will surprise you and take you to visit a special place. When the day came, I asked them to follow me and we drove to our old house. They were shocked when they realized what my plan was. They got very excited, especially when they saw the family photos from the days when we used to live there. I also took the nice album that Catherine made of photos of different stages of building the house, along with a bottle of wine and gave it to the owner. That was a great moment for my family.

L AS V EGAS

During 1988-89 the real estate market in Las Vegas started to boom. I was always fascinated by that city. I sold few apartment buildings there and bought a nine-unit building in downtown Vegas. I usually stayed at the Caesar’s Palace hotel and was impressed by people coming to the front of the hotel in their limousines. I dreamed of owning a small limo in a unique dark color. One day I was having my breakfast at Caesar’s and checking the daily newspaper when I found an ad offering a baby limo for sale that was only a few years old. I called the owner and made an appointment to see the car.

When I went to their house, the second the owner opened the garage door, I saw exactly the car that I was dreaming of. It was a very dark almost black Cadillac. Perfect size with not many miles. The owner told me that they bought the car new for his mom. Of course, they had a driver. When his mom passed away, they decided to sell the car. I bought the car and used it for almost three years, mainly for driving to Vegas. I had a driver who was also my right-hand man in supervising the maintenance of the properties. Many times, I had this similar experience in my life; I see in my mind something I want, and once I have that idea fixed, it happens almost miraculously.

One time I had an interesting experience with this car. My driver and I were ready to leave Vegas. We were downtown and he wanted to fill the gas tank before we left. While he was fueling, I told him, “I’m going inside to get a drink.” When I came back from the snack shop at the gas station, I saw neither my driver nor the car there. My phone was 125

“

When I dreamed of something the universe gave me exactly what I wished. It also took things away when my internal god wasn’t totally satisfied. But always asked for things earned by my own effort. I always loved the journey of reaching up to my dreams. . .

also in the car. I called my number from a public phone thinking that since the driver and the phone were both in the car he would answer. But there was no answer. Time passed and I started getting really worried. I thought of many things, that maybe he was kidnapped. I called the police to see if they heard of something, but there was no report of anything like a carjacking. Finally, after many times calling him he answered the call. I asked him where he was. He was on the freeway driving towards LA thinking that I was in the car! Later on, when he came to pick me up, he told me that all that time he assumed that I was sitting in the car, in the back of course and he couldn’t see me. He thought that I was taking a nap and didn’t want to be bothered with the phone call.

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Eventually, he looked back during my last call and was shocked when he didn’t see me there. He was really scared. Vahik, my driver, was a quiet guy and he was always focused on whatever he was doing. He had single-minded intent. That was the reason for this funny accident.

I was traveling to Vegas regularly and trying to become familiar with the real estate market there. During this time, I saw an ad in the LA times that 4.5 acres of land was for sale on Sunset Road, which sounded interesting. I contacted the agent and made an offer.

At this time, I was traveling with my friends to New York and Canada. I was on the road but did finalize the transaction by email and made the deal. When I came back, I heard from the agent that the owner made another deal with a Beverly Hills developer. To solve the problem, the agent invited me to their office in LA and introduced me to the owner of the company. Her name is “Fereshte,” which is the American version of the name “Fay.” She is a Persian lady who became my lifetime friend. With her help, we settled the conflict with the developer for $250,000. Since the developer didn’t have cash, I agreed to take a note with a 12% interest rate against a 16-unit apartment building which the seller owned in Torrance. The seller started to pay me $2,500.00 per month, but after two years the seller filled bankruptcy and stopped paying. I already had borrowed $150,000 against the note, therefore the note dealer and I both lost some money on those notes. The most important outcome of this Las Vegas deal was Fay’s support of my emotional issues.

She was originally an architect from Iran, but in the U.S. became a broker and developer and had just started to build up classes for personal growth and development called “Bonyan.” With her advice and support, I became familiar with Lifespring and Landmark education. I took their classes and seminars. She even supported my brother taking seminars with me. Years later I took her seminar, which was in Farsi. I was also introduced to many great counselors. One of them was Dr. Rhoda, and my family and I enjoyed the results of her good advice for many years. I also joined the board of directors of a nonprofit counseling organization called PGI (Personal Growth Institute) that provided counseling to minority communities with a low charge. I enjoyed and believed in counseling.

MY REAL ESTATE CA R E E R 1 9 84 – 1 9 89

During 1985 to 1990 I made 30 partnerships in apartment buildings and commercial properties in which I was also a partner. During the same time period I bought 10 properties by myself. It was a busy and successful time. Managing these properties was also a big job. I had to renovate some of these properties, which required contracting and dealing with workers. Everything happened so fast that maybe I wasn’t prepared for it. In the early 90’s many things changed in the wake of numerous financial crises.

In the late 80’s banks were in favor of making as many loans as they could. Sometimes they were the ones approaching to lend without consideration of the equity that you had in the property. The appraisers were giving higher market values to the properties on a daily basis. The payments were going up with higher interest rates and most properties could run negative. Eventually the market collapsed, and the borrowers stopped making payments.

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Everything turned upside down and many properties started to go into foreclosures. In the early 90’s, facing these financial crises, I started to sell some of the properties. And for a few other properties I started to negotiate with the banks to make better arrangements for payoffs of the loans or lowering the interest rates.

I sold most properties at a discounted price and eight of them went into foreclosures.

Negotiations with the lenders wasn’t easy. It took me almost two years and finally I was forced to file a temporary chapter eleven to compel the lenders to negotiate. At the end of the day, I won some and lost some but missed lots of valuable time. Finally, I learned how to negotiate with them. I helped a few clients and friends and saved their properties from foreclosure, and I made good deals for them with the lenders. One of the interesting and fun moments was made by my brother in that period.

On one of my birthdays my brother surprised me with a practical joke. A lady came to the office when everybody was present and asked to see me. She introduced herself as the loan officer at Wells Fargo Bank where I was negotiating better terms for my loan. She said, “I came to settle that in person,” and started to get intimate. At first it was kind of shocking and scary since she was acting so real, but after a few minutes I realized that it was all a show. It was really a fun surprise, and I’m glad that my brother took the initiative to make that happen — I’ll always remember it. It was a funny moment at a time when things were very stressful and the future was uncertain.

I’ve had 30 years now to evaluate this state of affairs, but of course, knowing the right thing to do is much harder when you’re in the moment and making the best decision based on the information that is available to you.

G LENDAL E, CALIFORN IA ( LAT E ‘ 80 S ) — ON E OF TH E PR OPE RTIES TH AT I P U RC H ASED IN PART N ERS HIP IN GL E N DA L E ON CA L IFOR N IA AV E N U E . I T ’ S BEEN M ORE T HAN 3 0 YEARS A N D OU R PA RTN E R S H IP IS STIL L IN TACT A ND WE STI LL OW N T HIS BUILDIN G .

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I tried to prevent the economic downturn from affecting my family in a negative way, therefore my family’s lifestyle never changed. . .

My biggest mistake was that I expanded my real estate portfolio too fast. If I kept the original ones and didn’t sell and buy bigger ones, I could have saved more properties.

I also missed the chance to better analyze my position at the beginning the situation.

In the late 80’s I was mostly focused on larger properties like apartment buildings or commercial multi-use properties. I did not have much interest in selling houses and I would refer those sales to one of my agents. The responsibility of having agents in the office and supervising them was not an experience I was interested in having. The portion of that income compared to the commercial transactions was lower, and the real estate market’s downturn also caused a few of my agents to depart. I moved the real estate office to the office building my brother and I owned on Central with a few Persian doctors.

Our new office was much smaller, but it was fine for the time. I had fewer agents and also fewer transactions. I spent the first few years after moving there organizing the management of the properties that I had and finalizing negotiations with the lenders.

I can’t believe that I spent 10 years of my life in that office. I feel that I could have done much more in those ten years. It took me five years to build up a nice real estate portfolio, very active years and about the same period trying to save them.

Most of the active people in business disappeared. They either went broke or quit.

The 90’s were kind of depressing years for real estate. And a comfortless period for me too. The transactions were mostly on foreclosed properties. If you were on the selling side, generally it meant that you were financially in bad shape since you had to sell at loss. It was also hard for buyers since they had to compete with many other buyers — it was a buyers’ market.

It took many years to get my moods back to normal again.

I also had problems with the loan on our house. Since I did not want to sell the house, I had to work out new terms on the loan and the payments, which I did, but it did add to my stress level. Most of the cash I had available was spent on payments of the properties to save them, therefore I was getting short on cash.

I never got Catherine involved in our financial issues. I never felt it could have had any positive impact in the outcome or in my emotional condition — just the opposite, getting her involved could possibly have made it worse. I was feeling kind of alone along the journey. Since our views were different whenever we talked about an issue the outcome couldn’t be good.

Those years probably triggered our separation, but for many years we had similar issues. I tried for years to find different resources, which I did. I took many years of counseling and attended numerous classes and seminars that were eye-opening to me. During the process, over almost 20 years, I met and became friends with several psychologists and psychotherapists, became involved with personal development classes and learned many things which were new to me. I can say that those years were among 129

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In leverage-owned real estate it would have been better if I had a smaller percentage of ownership and had been partners with financially strong people. . .

the most emotionally educating period of my life. I also got Catherine and Erik involved, and I’m happy for that. I learned a lot about myself and found solutions for relationships.

I even joined the board of directors of a nonprofit group that were providing counseling.

The result was very helpful to me and I think even for my family.

Today I believe that it’s better and healthier for some couples to be separated at some point in their lives together. They can perform better and can even be happier. They can work better in their creative pursuits without somebody there making comments.

All those factors lead us to a separation in 2012. Meldia and Tina already were going to UCLA and they were living in their apartment in West LA. Erik was almost ready to go to USC. The timing was right. Before we sold our Avonoak house, I bought a house a few blocks away on Lorinda Dr. I remodeled the house and put on an addition, which took me almost a year. Catherine and Erik moved to Lorinda, and I bought a smaller house for me within a block from Lorinda on Glenoaks and started to remodel that too.

In 2002, after selling the Avonoak house we each moved to our private homes.

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My New Life O U R S E PA RATION

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fter 30 years of marriage we finally separated in 2002. Our personalities are so different. I tried for many years to understand Catherine’s personality, and tried to influence or change part of it. It didn’t work. She was right about one thing and that is that you have to accept whoever the person is. I was too naive to understand that, and waited for change; change that didn’t happen. Most of the time this ongoing disagreement was confusing, which brought anxiety and discomfort to me. Finally after years of counseling and getting advice, I realized it’s better that we remain separated so as not to disturb each other and each of us can have our own style of living. Now she can’t hear my nagging anymore, and after 18 years I feel we both are happier.

In 2002, I bought a house with a pool for Catherine; it was located within a few blocks from our family house. I did a major remodeling before Catherine and Erik moved there, then we sold our family house on Avonoak. I bought a smaller house for me, also within a few blocks. We no longer lived together, but we were still close by. Erik was already going to Glendale college, Meldia and Tina were living together on the west side and attending UCLA, and I moved to my new home on Glenoaks Blvd.

Catherine has always been an independent thinker, and acted based on her vision, and even though she always told me, “Don’t try to change anyone,” she did change my

M Y HOUS E AT 3141 COUN T RY C LU B D R . I H AV E L IV E D H E R E FOR 1 8 YE A R S .

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view in certain regards. In my life, I generally followed instructions from some sort of authority whether that was teachers or parents or other leaders with experience. She was just the opposite of me, she always had her own version of events, regardless what others asked or thought. Seeking the advice of others wasn’t and isn’t her style, which creates conflict with how I prefer to handle things.

During the years because of her, I adjusted my thoughts to some degree by allowing my decisions and views to analyze the outside requests or views and then act, but I still followed the instructions, just made some adjustments, I’m really happy about it. I have more creating power, thanks to her.

LE AV IN G AVON OA K

The 18 years I lived in the Avonoak Terrace house (1985 - 2002), were the most important part of my adult life. The events that happened in that period changed who I am today. I faced major challenges emotionally (fortunately universal support finally arrived and helped me to overcome those obstacles) also financial success and disappointments, but the most important thing of all was being present to watch my three children grow up. I lived in various houses before and after residing at the Avonoak house, but none of them gave me the same feeling of a home. That’s why at the time of my financial difficulties in early 1990’s, saving the house became very important to me, and I succeeded in keeping it and repairing my finances, which was not fast nor easy.

Many memorable events happened in that home. Catherine decided to run for the board of education, and during the years she was always involved with the school and supported parents and students participation in social and extracurricular activities.

She also taught Armenians in after school programs and was a volunteer in many city functions and committees. She was socially so well-known that even the Glendale News Press considered her one of the 100 most influential persons in the city, but running for the board of education required a lot of work. Even though she didn’t win, she was still happy about he whole process and she received several thousand votes, which was quite impressive. The night of election we had a party in our house, which was lot of fun.

We had other memorable events there — for my 40th birthday,we had a big party with a live band and tenting outside. It was a great party, and I can’t believe that 30 years have passed already. Our parents were still around, which was so normal; how we miss them now and well, that’s how life goes on. We had my Dad’s and Catherine’s Dad’s birthdays here too. There were so many celebrations there and so many happy memories.

Along with all the fun parts, I also had tough times, challenges with the lenders on different properties and for my house, and lots of emotional disturbances, but the years passed by and we survived. I also bought several of my fun cars while being there, including a yellow and a black Rolls Royce and although material things aren’t everything in life, I really enjoyed having them.

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I also started to remodel my new house and changed the look, which became really nice. I moved my office to the new house, since I decided to work independently, and I had a new assistant named Caroline, who worked for me for couple of years.

A HO US E O N COU N TRY C LU B D R IV E

Towards the end of 2003 one of our family friends, Carol, and her husband were trying to sell their house, which was in the Oakmont Country Club area. The timing was just right since I could sell the house I’d just remodeled to the family who used to work for us for sometimes. They really liked the house and kept asking me if one day I would want to sell, to tell them first. I sold my house to them and bought Carol’s house, and as of today I still live there.

One of the reasons that I bought the house was that the property consisted of three lots. The main house and two guest houses were sitting on those lots so I had the potential to build three houses on the property and possibly rent out the guest houses.

I had the thought that maybe one day each of my children could build their own house and live next to each other. So I asked my architect friend, Oshin, to draw up plans for the houses and did a survey of the lots, but decided not to build after all since the economy wasn’t that stable at the time. But so far the setup has worked pretty good for me since the guest houses were rented most of the time, which helped me to pay the monthly mortgage.

The new home worked very well for my needs, I had two guest houses that I could rent on the right side of the main house, and on the left side there was a section which was like a suite, a huge high-ceilinged room with a wet bar and fireplace. The previous owner used it as a family room and it became a nice office for me, completely separate from the rest of the house.

I kept the Verdugo Realty office on Arden but I moved my work area to the office in the house. Tina worked at the home office for couple of years, and I encouraged her to get her broker’s license and tried to persuade her to do real estate and property management. I also bought a couple houses under her name during this period, which we remodeled, rented out and eventually sold. It was good experience for her and I loved being with her, I really missed her when she left. She was thinking to continue her education and get her master’s. At first I thought, “If she’s going to have her own business why does she need that?” but she was really adamant about it. She finally got into USC and got her master’s in Public Policy. It so happened that she graduated at the same time as Erik, they both got their master’s, and I’m really happy about that. I always feel that I’m really blessed, having such a great kids, even though neither Catherine or I pushed our children to do anything. Whatever they did, we always supported them, but they always made the best choices for their lives without giving us any headache or discomfort. Their choices were always right.

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I only became concerned when Meldia wanted to rent an apartment and live alone when she was attending UCLA. I objected to the cost, but the reality was that I didn’t want her to be alone and experience independent living. I recognize now that it was a kind of a man or father feeling which bothered me. I was sensitive about it even though Catherine never even thought about it or was bothered — actually it still bothers me, maybe it is funny but I can be too old-fashioned. After Tina joined her and they started to live together, I felt a little better, even though it might sound overprotective.

L IV IN G A LON E

On November 21, 2003, I sold my first house after the separation on Glenoaks Boulevard and bought the house at 3141 Country Club Drive. I have been living in this house for 17 years and I’ve enjoyed being here all that time. I experienced a new life style, since I never had the chance to live alone — I always wondered what would have been like, and finally I found myself living in that reality.

On the one hand, the feeling of freedom is wonderful, on the other hand I missed having other people around. But with the experience of being free, it reminds you of what you don’t miss: that someone is always there with you and possibly telling you what to do and how to do it. I feel after so many years living together, if you try to avoid separation you need to be able to adjust yourself with your partner. After all the trying you might feel that life is getting to be over and you’re still pushing to adjust. Of course it’s all relative to the level of the adjustment. It also all depends what will work the best for both of you.

Having a home office also helped me not to feel lonely. During these years I experienced a more relaxing work place, with less interaction and less disturbance.

I focused more on selling larger properties, which I became successful in doing. I eventually got to a point in my life where I got tired of convincing clients of good deals to buy or sell. In general, I was getting tired of clients’ issues, so I decided not to do any more real estate dealing but only take care of my own rental properties, and more important to take care of myself — to do things that I like to do, and also to spend more time traveling.

I became active for a few years in a master mind group, which I hosted in my new house. It was a good chance to meet interesting people and make new friends.

During the last 18 years that I was separated, many interesting and exciting events happened in my life and I’m glad Catherine and I shared these events together even though we were living separately.

Over the years Erik was always involved in social and political activities. He was elected to two terms as the planning commissioner for the City of Glendale. He always loved supporting and being a part of new developments for the city and wanted a better life for its citizens.

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G LENDAL E, CALIFO RN IA ( 2015 ) — E R IK WAS R U N N IN G FOR C ITY COU N C I L I N G LENDAL E. HERE IS OUR FAMILY AT TH AT E V E N T.

G LENDAL E, CALIFO RN IA ( 20 15 ) — ON E OF E R IK ’S FU N D RA IS IN G E V E N TS FO R H I S ELECT IO N .

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In 2015 he decided to run for City Council. There were two vacant seats, and even though he got a lot of support from different community organizations, he came in the third place. When I think of it, I feel happy that he didn’t continue that direction, at least for now, since I’ve noticed (and I think he felt also the same way) that being involved in politics is not for everybody. I supported him and will still support him in whatever direction that he chooses to go, but we both felt it’s better not to be part of it. In politics, you eventually have to do things that you don’t wish to do. Erik continued in the planning and development field in the private sector and he started a consulting business. I think this is a better career path and I’m very proud of him.

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The Next Generation

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eldia was working as a lawyer in New York when she met Arek, a medical doctor.

Their friendship led to something more and they married in LA. Meldia is our first daughter and her marriage carried some level of unexpected new emotions that I never experienced before; it’s hard to describe that feeling, you need to experience it yourself. There was a unique connection and protection I always felt for Meldia and Tina, and when they got married the form of protection and connection changes.

This is a strange feeling, on one hand you feel part of that is being transferred to the husband-to-be, and on the other hand, you feel like you might need to protect them from the husband. It’s a complex and not especially rational feeling, but fortunately both of my son-in-laws have deep caring and love for my daughters and our family, which I have had the chance to experience in the years after their marriages. Also I’ve learned things and been exposed to new ideas from my kid’s spouses, which is wisdom I receive better generally than my from my kids and I really feel lucky about that.

We are used to big weddings but Meldia and Arek wanted to have a relatively small wedding with only around hundred people who were very close to them. Not having any of my friends attending was kind of strange to me but afterwards I realized that first, it was their wedding and they wanted GL E N DA L E , CA L IFOR N IA ( 2 01 9) — it that way and second, they wanted to M E L D IA A N D A R E K

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G LENDAL E, CALIFO RN IA ( 20 19 ) — TIN A , E R IK A N D M E L D IA , E R IK ’S WE D D I NG DAY I N M Y HOUS E

celebrate only with the people that they were very close to. Today I feel that it was the right thing to do at that time, but Erik’s wedding afforded me the opportunity to invite my close friends, so I got my wish eventually, and Meldia and Arek got the wedding they wanted too.

Tina got married to Rafi, who’s a great real estate investor. They had a simple but fun wedding in the backyard of their apartment. I always loved Tina’s decisions in life since I feel that she knows what she wants. I always loved the simplicity of their life style, including their wedding, which was simple and fun with only their best friends and close family members. After a few years of marriage, they chose to live in Armenia and that makes me miss them more.

In 2019, Erik married Ramela, an entertainment lawyer, and a bright, sweet girl.

From the moment that I met her, I loved her and felt she’s the one for him. This time we had a real Armenian wedding with all the traditional ceremonies. It was all really fun. How lucky can you be to have three wonderful children with another three new additional ones? I am more proud of this than anything, nothing else matters. Erik and Ramela had a real, traditional Armenian wedding and this time I had the chance to invite my close friends. The excitement for me with each one was different, maybe because they were different from each other, but I’m happy since I feel that they each have the right person for life.

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ERI K AND RAMALA, ABOV E, M E L D IA AND ARE K W IT H MARKAR, B E LOW, AND ON T HE RIGHT, T IN A AND RA FI WI TH ARAXI: AS MY KIDS GOT OL D E R , OUR FAMILY HAS BECO ME B IGGE R AND EVEN MO RE FULL OF LOVE .

It’s really exciting when you’re lucky enough to witness the expansion of your family. A new chapter did open in my life with arrival of the grandchildren. Markar, my first grandson, was born in New York. It was a memorable day when Catherine and I went to see our first grandchild. You feel the extension of you, an interesting feeling.

Each one of them brought a special joy in my life. Enjoying the grandchildren is really different and fun compared with your own kids, you feel less and different responsibility,

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M ARK AR IN MY CAR LEARN IN G H OW TO DRI V E. A FEW YEARS L ATE R , M ATH EU S , MY S ECO N D GRA N D S ON WAS BOR N AN D T HEN ARA X I, M Y G RANDDAUGHT ER. 140

G LENDAL E, CALIFORN IA ( 20 19 ) — C E L E B RATIN G M OM ’S 97TH B IRTH DAY AT SHI RAZ R ESTAURAN T W IT H MA R K A R

G LENDAL E, CALIFO RN IA — T IN A , RA FI A N D A RA X I AT M E L D IA’S FIR ST H O U S E I N G LENDALE, CALIFO RN IA 141

MARKAR, M ATE U S AND A RA X I IN M E L D IA’S H OU S E M ATEU S IS W EARIN G HIS M OM ’ S JACKET W HICH I BOUG HT FROM LO N DON FO R M ELDI A W HEN S HE WAS 3 YEARS OL D.

LOS A N GE L ES — A RA X I E N JOYIN G AN ICE CREAM.

LOS ANG ELES — MARKAR’S 5T H B IRTH DAY AT TH E PARK. 142

and that makes you to have more relaxing fun. But you also feel a special and higher level of protection towards them. This makes it little scary handling them, especially when they’re newborn. I was more brave earlier in life dealing with my own children than dealing with my grandchildren; it’s a sense of unique responsibility.

Despite the fact that Catherine and I were living separately all these years, we managed pretty well to be together with the kids and grandkids during all the holidays and celebrations. For most of the past 18 years, I have enjoyed living alone, since I never had the chance to experience that before I got married. I feel that independent living is an interesting and important experience to have either before, or in some cases after, marriage; it just happened that for us it was 30 years after our marriage.

I always loved to travel and discover new places and their cultures and, before and after, my marriage I explored Europe many times. Now it was a time for me to discover Asia and its different countries, each with their own cultures.

LEON, FRAN CE ( 2010) — W ITH M Y FIR ST K IN D E R GA RTE N FR IE N D R OM B I K, H I S WI FE IS S IT T IN G BY MY S ID E A N D TH E IR FR IE N D S .

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Traveling

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t was now time for me to discover Asia and other different countries, each with their own cultures. When I was growing up in Iran, I didn’t have the chance to connect with Asian people, or in general anyone other than Persians and Armenians. It’s very different in America, especially in California. During the past 40 years, I have been exposed to people from all over the world both in my personal and business life. Inspired by my Asian friends, I have traveled alone and with family to many countries in the Far East.

One of my friends who used to work in my office found another job which eventually took him to Shanghai. He encouraged me to go and visit him, and that was my first visit to China. I was really impressed with the their culture, people, and their achievements. I was so excited that the next time I had an opportunity to visit, I took Ara along with me. It was interesting to travel with my brother and explore a place that was new to both of us.

DU BAI , UN IT ED ARAB EMIRAT ES ( 2 01 9 ) — D U BA I IS A V E RY IN TE R EST I NG P LAC E. THIS IS A S HIN IN G E X A M PL E TH AT IF YOU PL AC E R U L ES A ND DI SC I P LI NE F IRST, DIFF EREN T PEOPL E FR OM A L L OV E R TH E WOR L D W I L L FOLLOW. UAE PUT ALL OF T HE IR R ES OU R C ES IN PL AC E TO C R E ATE S U C H A N EXEM P LARY CIT Y — A MO DEL FOR TH E WOR L D. 144

When Erik was an undergrad at USC, he had his summer training with a major developer in Hong Kong. I took the family to Hong Kong to meet Erik and then all together we traveled on to mainland China; our trip also included a visit to the Great Wall of China, which was quite memorable.

My interest in Asia really started to develop at this point, and within the next few years I had the chance to travel to many Asian countries including Taiwan, Thailand, Korea, Malaysia, Indonesia and finally, my favorite of all, the Philippines. Before 1983, when I started my real estate career, I had met few, if any, Filipinos. Soon, I had many real estate dealings with them including owning real estate in partnerships, which eventually lead to friendship, therefore I had and still have many Filipino friends. I always wanted to visit the Philippines but never had the chance. Finally in 2010, when I was in Bangkok, the opportunity came. I had contacted my friend in Manila, and she encouraged me to visit her. She was getting engaged and wanted me to meet her fiancĂŠe, which I did. Visiting Manila, and later many other cities, took me back to my days in Iran.

From my first visit there, I felt at home. The people were so warm and hospitable that I felt like I was in Iran, which I miss very much. I believe that the people are what made

SAN DI EGO, CALIFO RN IA ( 201 8) — WITH M Y FAVOR ITE FIL IPIN A S ING E R , LEA SOLAN GA. S HE WAS LEAD S IN GE R FR OM TH E D E B U T OF M IS S SA IGO N I N LONDON A N D PERFORMED IN T H E S H OW FOR 1 0 Y E A R S . S H E IS A WON D E R F U L TALENT W HO HAS HAD A V ERY S U CC ES S FU L CA R E E R .

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WALK I NG O N T HE BEAUT IFUL B E AC H ES OF TH E PH IL IPPIN ES , I SAW MY DAUG HTE R’S N AME W RIT T EN ON TH E SA N D. AT TH E TIM E , I WAS TH IN KI NG H OW NI C E IT WO ULD BE TO HAV E A L L M Y K ID S H E R E WITH M E .

the difference; they are so united and supportive of each other and even more supportive to foreigners. It gave me the same feeling of how Iranian people back home were so supportive of the Armenian minority group. I have not been back to Iran since my last departure in 1978, and being in the Philippines partially fulfilled my desire for that kind of welcoming community.

After my first visit, and many times during the last 10 years, I have visited the Philippines and enjoyed every single time. People are so caring and welcoming that it makes you be happier when you’re with them. Even though many of them are financially not in great shape, that doesn’t stop them from smiling or living life to its fullest. They let go of things and think in the present. I took many seminars and classes in personal growth, and even the Sedona special seminar on how to cope and how to let go things in life, but for Filipino people they see all of those trying as a gift. It’s part of their nature that they posses without having been trained, like we do in western culture. Every time that I’m there, I’m being reminded how to be happy even without possessing any material things. The Philippines also have wonderful natural beauty with great beaches, white 146

REM EM BERIN G T HE S ECO N D WOR L D WA R , TH E OCC U PATION OF T H E P H I LI P P I N ES BY T HE JAPAN ES E , A N D H ON OR IN G TH E A M E R ICA N A R MED FORC ES FO R LIBERAT IN G T HE COU N TRY.

sands and clear water — it is one of a kind. During the last ten years I’ve made many friends there, and whenever I’m there I feel at home. Another factor that made it easier for me to be with them is the communication; all of them speak English. None of the other Asian countries have that amenity, and it can become difficult to communicate with the local people. In the Philippines education is in English, unlike in other Asian countries. I have even hired a tutor sometimes, in Manila, for my English writings.

When I travel, of course I miss family and friends back home, and that’s why I can’t stay out of the country at any given time for more than four or five weeks. Armenia and the Philippines also are great for retirement since the cost of living in both countries is about one third of what it is in Los Angeles. But after you’ve lived in America, other countries don’t match the experience. In many regards, all of the Asian countries have a long way to go to reach the socially and politically advanced level that we enjoy, especially the health care system, which makes me feel safer here.

America is a special place. Today I feel that if I had my college education here, I would have had a better chance of advancement in social and financial areas, since you’re being exposed in a more efficient way with the culture and the system. I also admire the constitutional framework of government — that this foundation that was established over two hundred years ago for democratic governance with politics and 147

V E R ON A , ITA LY ( 1 9 9 0 S ) — ON A FA M ILY TR IP TO E U R OPE AT T H E R OM EO A N D JU L IE T H OU S E . T I NA IS ON TH E BA LCON Y. I B E LI EV E TH AT TRAV E L A N D H AV IN G NE W E X PE R IE N C ES WITH OT H ER PEOPL E A N D OTH E R PL AC ES IS V E RY GOOD FOR PE R S O NA L D E V E LOPM E N T A N D I WA NT ED M Y C H IL D R E N TO H AV E T H AT OPPORTU N ITY AS WE L L .

policies developed and improved over the years. I don’t think any other country has a combined package like America, with social benefits and polices and opportunities equal for everyone. In my time in this country, I witnessed that anyone who has a strong desire for achievement in any field has the opportunity to pursue and reach their wishes and be successful. I found that I could always find the support to reach to my dreams if I was really determined. Unlike other countries, here, there’s nothing that can stop me.

The freedom that we have which we take for granted gives us opportunities to advance in politics and social activities, even for new immigrants; this is unheard of in the rest of the world.

During last 18 years while the pressure of work was relatively less, and I had the chance to think about and analyze my life, and life in general. I always felt lucky that I had the best of all things in my life. For the first 30 years of my life, I lived in Iran and it was completely different socially, culturally, and in almost every other respect from the second half of my life in America. I cherish both. I was blessed that I had the opportunity to experience that, but one thing became clear to me and that is, with a strong desire and hard work you can make it anywhere.

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I feel that I have lived a full life and experienced everything that I wished and that I didn’t miss anything. I feel that Catherine is happy, since I’m not there to nag. She does things in her own way (which she always did), the only difference is that when we lived together, she did many things I disliked but she did it anyway. That made me mad and I was always complaining; now she doesn’t need to hear my complains anymore.

The question that I might be facing is that if I was going to start all over again, what I would have changed, if anything? I would have done exactly the same with only one exception, before I invite any family member to get involved in a business with me, I wouldn’t have looked on the romantic side, and I would have analyzed more before asking them to join in my business. As I have said, I have relied on my friends and family members in my business life since childhood and sometimes it’s worked, sometimes it hasn’t. Sometimes you need a harder heart and a more analytical mind. Other than that, I would do as I have — travel the world and make great friends.

Y E R E VA N , A R M E N IA ( 2 01 9 ) — W ITH A RA X I.

YEREVAN , ARMEN IA ( 20 19 ) — WITH TIN A , RA FI A N D TH E IR FR IE N D S I N A RESTAURAN T. 149

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Life is great, just find the way to enjoy it.

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