National, International, Armenia, and Community News and Opinion

16 The Armenian Reporter | December 6, 2008CommunityPlaywright Nishan Parlakian receives St. Vartan AwardNEW YORK – Nishan Parlakianreceived the St. Vartan Award inrecognition of his lifelong achievementsin the performing arts. Over50 people, including many of hisformer students and academic colleagues,were present on Wednesdayevening, November 19, asArchbishop Khajag Barsamian,Primate of the Diocese of the ArmenianChurch of America (Eastern),bestowed this honor upon Dr.Parlakian.The speakers, including MaxBoudakian, Ph.D., Aram Arkun,Hagop Vartivarian, and LucyGirgiryan, talked about Dr. Parlakian’slife and his contributionsto Armenian theater. In the roomwere reproductions of posters andold photos of the plays Dr. Parlakiandirected during his rich career.“Dr. Parlakian has made countlesscontributions to the preservationof the Armenian culture and artsin our community. It is through individualslike him that the futureof Armenian theater will remainDECEMBER 7, 198820 YEARS ONvibrant among the next generationof Armenian-Americans,” the Primatesaid.Dr. Parlakian is emeritus professorof drama at John Jay Collegein New York, where he hasalso taught English literature andspeech for 25 years. His most famousplay is Grandma Pray for Me,which was produced in 1988 inNew York City and performed OffBroadway.As artistic director of the DiocesanPlayers at the Diocese of theArmenian Church, Dr. Parlakianstaged numerous plays by wellknown Armenian playwrights suchas Hagop Baronian, Gabriel Sundukian,and Alexander Shirvanzade.“I think this is a deserving recognitionby the Diocese and thePrimate. His contribution is substantialin Armenian theater andculture. He’s a unique individualin our community and one of theimportant individuals in our theatricalculture,” said Hirant Gulian,who was instrumental in organizingthis event.Dr. Parlakian said he was honoredto receive the recognition. “Iknew we were having the festivity,but it was nice to receive thisaward,” he said.Born in New York in 1925, Dr.Parlakian earned a Ph.D. in dramafrom Columbia University. He isan accomplished writer, director,professor, and playwright. With S.Peter Cowe, he edited Modern ArmenianDrama: An Anthology (2000)and Contemporary Armenian AmericanDrama: An Anthology (2004),both published by Columbia UniversityPress. He is also the authorof numerous articles on Armenianstudies, theater, and literature.Regarding the future of Armeniantheater, Dr. Parlakian is optimistic.“It’s going to be great,” hesaid. “Some of these Armenianactors come from the Near Eastand they’re excellent in Armenianlanguage and it’s good to havethat type of person acting.” Medical Outreach: 20 years have gone byAbp. Khajag Barsamian, Primate of the Diocese of the Armenian Church ofAmerica (Eastern), speaks with Nishan Parlakian during a reception held in Dr.Parlakian’s honor at the Diocese.by Mary NajarianLA CANADA FLINTRIDGE, Calif.– The telephone next to my bedrang. I looked at the clock. It was1:00 a.m. I usually don’t pick up thephone at that hour, knowing well,that it is always the Glendale MemorialEmergency Room calling formy husband, Dr.Vartkes Najarian.But for some reason I pickedup the phone and heard from theother end, “Allo. We need medicalhelp, urgent, urgent” (shoodov,shoodov). I first thought it was aprank call. Someone was calling atthat hour of the night to scream inmy ear and annoy me.“Dr. Vartkes. We need Dr. Vartkes.This is Yerevan. Bababyan calling.”I handed the phone to my husbandand turned the lights on.“How many dead?” he asked.I knew this must be a seriousmatter. My husband was speechless.He put the phone down and ina trembling voice said. “There hasbeen a major earthquake in Spitak.Hundreds are dead.”We rushed and turned on theTV and tried every channel wecould. No news, No news, on theradio either. We could not sleep anymore. We sat and silently prayedand hoped that this was only a baddream. We tried to call Armenia butall the telephone lines were dead.By seven in the morning, thenews of a major earthquake of 7.6magnitude in Armenia was on allthe stations on TV. The estimateddeath toll was somewhere around 5and 10 thousand. By the afternoon,however, the number of fatalitieshad risen to 30 to 50 thousand. Noone knew the exact figure. But itdid not matter any more. It was ahuge catastrophe.The next day Vartkes was calledby the State Department to go toArmenia to asses the situation. Istayed behind to mourn.Since 1984 we had been to Armeniaseveral times a year andhad spent most of our time in thehospitals and the operating rooms.We knew the medical situation welland were very concerned. After myhusband left, I spent three days andnights in the Medical Outreach office,answering the telephone callsand calming down the walk-in Armenianswho were anxious to hearfrom their families. They wantedthe names of the dead and the injured.Many callers wanted to comeand volunteer. They wanted to doAmputees from the earthquake at the airport.something, anything, to help….Our telephone calls came from allover the world and asked many differentquestions. One call from theInternational Red Cross in Switzerlandwanted to know, “What wasthe electrical voltage in Armeniaand the type of electrical outlets?”Fortunately I knew the answer.World Vision, International Aid,Brother to Brother, Map International,and the American Red Crossstarted fund raising immediately.World Vision asked me to have a 30-minute TV program on ABC in theirBurbank studio with John Heartfor their fundraising efforts. I hadnot slept in days and was not capableto drive myself to the studio.Thanks to our friend Hagop Bashmakian,who came to my rescueand drove me to the station. I musthave looked awful. The make-up artistspent a whole hour to cover myred eyes and my puffy eyelids andbring some color to my face.The interview was all about Armenia,what the latest news was frommy husband, and if Soviet Armeniawas capable to handle medically acatastrophe of this magnitude.A surprising answerIt was a very emotional interview,with me trying to hold my tearsback and answer questions. “Mrs.Najarian,” he said, “you seem veryconcerned about the earthquake.How many relatives do you have inArmenia?”He was surprised when I said,“None.”We are so few that every Armenianis very precious to us. WeArmenians are one big family, andnow I feel like I have lost part of myfamily. I tried to hold my tears backbut could not….This was one of the many interviewsI had on local and nationalTV. Help for the earthquake victimswas coming from all over: Armenians,Americans, the rich, andthe poor.Vartkes was gone for seven days.He got through only once to call me.“Things are worse than you can possiblyimagine. The death toll is estimatedto be 25 to 50 thousand, andmany thousands are injured. Sendthe medical supplies immediately,”he yelled.A happy coincidenceIt was coincidental that only sixmonths prior to the earthquake,we were offered a warehouse fullof medical and surgical supplies:gloves, syringes, bandages, sutures,instrument sets, etc., valued at$200,000, for a mere $20,000. Ourgood friend Jack Buchakian madea donation of $10,000 and MedicalOutreach donated the other$10,000, and the whole warehousewas purchased and moved to anempty gas station’s storage roomon Foothill Blvd. in Sunland, Calif.But it had not ended there. Fora period of six months, every Saturday,we had gathered at the Sunlandstorage, sorted, packaged, andlabeled over 300 boxes. Many of ourfriends came and helped us in thisventure: Nubar Baker and familyfrom Fresno, Jenia Rezieh, ElizabethAghbabian and Michael,Dr. Ishkhan, my dear friend thelate Arpi Bessos, my children Ara,Armen, Raffi, and Maro, and ofcourse Vartkes. We finished thepacking but had no clue how wewere to get the supplies to SovietArmenia.The fifth day after the earthquake,late in the evening, I got a call fromMr. Vanagan of World Vision, informingme that agbu had a cargoplane, half full, leaving for Armeniathe next day. If Medical Outreachhad anything to send, we neededto bring them before midnight tothe airport, cargo section. I neededthree trucks to deliver the goods,but how could I do it in such a shorttime? I panicked. I called a dearfriend, Arthur Mangasarian, andexplained my dilemma.“Don’t worry,” he said, “I will takecare of it.”In just half an hour, three youngArmenian boys with their trucks arrivedat the warehouse in Sunland.We loaded the goods, my son Armenand I took our seats in the trucks,and were on our way to the airport.We got to the airport in time, andin less than an hour, we had loadedthe boxes in the cargo plane.The clock on the wall struck 12midnight.I thanked the young men fortheir work and sacrifice. “Please donot thank us. We want to thank youfor the opportunity you gave us todo something for our brothers inArmenia.” How touching. Armenand I did not go home and slept onchairs in the waiting room.Blessing the planeThe roar of the planes woke us inthe morning. We were surprised tosee a roomful of agbu members inthe room. They had come to see ahistorical event, “The first humanitarianplane taking off to Yerevan.”Archbishop Vache Hovsepianstanding tall in the group prayed forthe victims and blessed the planethat was to take off. All three localTV stations carried the event alive.I was happy, happy that the supplieswe had packed for monthswould reach their destination. I dohope that all our friends who hadcome to the warehouse on theirSaturdays and worked in the heatand the cold know that they serveda worthy cause.Vartkes returned a week later. Hecame directly to Hoover High Schoolauditorium, filled with anxious Armenianswanting to hear first-handwhat he had to say. I was in the auditoriumwhen Vartkes came on stage.He looked so thin and pale.With a clear, firm, and assuredvoice, he said, “We have lost 25,000to 30,000 of our brothers and sistersin Spitak, Leninakan, and Kirovakan.They need help and I haveno doubts we will all come forwardand help them. But at this time Iwant to say to you what Golda Meirsaid to the Israelis after the war:‘Go home and have more childrento make up for this loss.’”Twenty years have gone by sincethe earthquake. Our work in Armeniahas not ended. I have learneda lot. The satisfaction and the joyI have received from helping mypeople are overwhelming. I saw thegoodness, the kindness, and thegenerosity in people.Thank youOf course I will always treasure theappreciation I have received. Sometimesit was a little too much. It wasSeptermber 2006. I was in Yerevan.Rosdom, one of the earthquake amputeeswe had brought to Los AngelesOrthopedic Hospital for surgeryand prostheses, had stayed in myhouse for three months. He hadseen me on Yerevan TV and knew Iwas in town. He had taken the busin the morning from Spitak and hadarrived in Yerevan late in the evening.He had gone to the Marriott,Hrazdan, Erebuni, and Ani hotels,trying to find me. He had spent thenight on the steps of the MarriottArmenia Hotel, thinking that eventuallywe would show up.The next day at noon we returnedfrom Karabakh and were droppedoff at the Marriott. Suddenly I sawthis tall, handsome boy in a blacksuit come over and hand me a bouquetof flowers and a bottle of cognac.For a minute I did not recognizehim. Then I saw the beautifulhazel eyes. We hugged and kissed.He was no more the seven-year-oldkid I knew. He wanted to know howAra, Armen, Raffi, and Maro were.We had three amputee children inour house at one time. My childrenalways helped me feed them, and inthe evening the three boys wouldtake our guests to the pool fortheir physical therapy. We talkedfor a long time with Rosdom. Hehad quit school and was workingwith his father. As he was leaving,we hugged goodbye and with tearfuleyes he said, “Deegeen Mary, Icame to thank you one more time. Iwill never forget all you did for me.”The last and the most importantsatisfaction I have is that we havebecome role models to our children.All four of my grown children areinvolved serving the communityand we are so proud of them.The 20 years have taken their tollon us. Vartkes is retired and we havelimited our activities. Instead of 2–3times we only go to Armenia once ayear. The telephone rarely rings aftermidnight and when it does, I panic, infear that it could be Armenia calling,“Shoodov, shoodov, oknootun.”