Verdugo Views: Part of the excitement as history unfolds

This past week has been a remarkable one, a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

My husband Glenn and I are in Armenia, homeland to so many people who live in our neighborhood. We’ve been special guests at several events, participated in an exciting press conference and met the president of the country, Serzh Sargsyan.

Our journey began at LAX, where we boarded an Etihad Airways airplane for a 15-hour flight to Abu Dhabi and another 3-hour flight to Yerevan. It was 2 a.m. local time when we landed at Zvartnots Airport and headed into town.

By the time we checked into the Marriott on Republic Square, it was 4 a.m., and we had a noon appointment with Hayk Demoyan, director of the Genocide Museum Institute. In addition, he is secretary of the state commission which planned the worldwide commemoration of the Armenian Genocide’s centenary on April 24.

The museum has been closed for several months for an expansion and new exhibit halls. Along with designing the exhibits, Demoyan has been traveling extensively to speak at various events.

Despite his busy schedule, he greeted us warmly and turned off his cellphone as we sat down at a long conference table in his office.

As we waited for Armenian coffee and pastries, we chatted about our meeting at the Skirball Cultural Center in Los Angeles the week before. Demoyan had been invited to speak at an Armenian General Benevolent Union Asbeds event, and we were there to deliver an artifact I’d found in an antique store. It was a tiny bottle of rice that had been used by Near East Relief, an organization formed by Americans to raise funds to feed and care for Armenian children left orphaned by the genocide.

I had written about the bottle of rice in a column about a year ago. Demoyan had read it online, and, since he was searching for artifacts having to do with the genocide and subsequent relief efforts, had sent an email asking if I would loan the bottle to the museum for the opening exhibit. In a later conversation, he said that he had never seen anything like it.

Demoyan had taken it back to Yerevan with him. As we enjoyed our coffee, he pointed to the bottle, now on his desk, “where he could keep an eye on it.”

This little bottle of rice seemed to have a special attraction for him. I had carefully packaged it before going to the Skirball and when I handed it to him that evening, he asked to see it. I opened the box, and as I put the tiny bottle in his hand, I told him that it was our gift to the museum, not a loan as he originally requested. He was very moved and said he was tempted to show it to a few people in the large crowd, but said “No, the president of Armenia must be the first to see this.”

So now, in his office, I asked how he had acquired all the artifacts for the new displays. He told me that he has been searching online and at auctions, reaching out to people all over the world, asking for loans and donations.

He led us to a table piled high with folders and showed us letters with Near East Relief letterhead; black and white photographs, some with newspaper captions still on the back; magazines published by Near East and, also, photos of Jackie Coogan, the child star who in 1924 was commissioned to raise awareness for the plight of the orphans. He toured the United States by train, collecting donations.

But the most exciting photo for me was the original of an image I had used in a column earlier this month. It was a photo of hundreds of young orphans spelling out the words “America, We Thank You.” This image is currently being used by the Armenian National Committee of America- Western Region. They have organized an initiative, “America, We Thank You,” to show their appreciation for the work of the NER.

After giving us a quick tour of the new exhibit hall, Demoyan bid us goodbye, adding that he would send a car for us the following Tuesday, April 21.

By then, we were in Dilijan, a scenic resort town high in the mountains northeast of Yerevan. The car arrived promptly and an hour and a half later we were at the museum. Demoyan, operating on an hour of sleep after attending an event in Moscow, again greeted us.

Promptly at 1 p.m., we walked into the main entrance hall of the museum. The doors opened and a huge throng of media people surged in. Demoyan spoke for several moments, describing the new layout and exhibits and introducing the donors, then inviting the media to follow him. He stopped at each of the 30-plus displays charting the events leading up to the 1915 Genocide and the subsequent relief efforts.

Meanwhile, I was escorted to exhibit room 36, “The Mission of the Near East,” where the bottle would eventually be displayed. The walls were filled with enlarged photos of young children and the relief workers who cared for them.

Trailing us were several media people who wanted close ups of the bottle, which my escort handed to me. And the questions started.

Where had I found it? “In an antique mall in Oregon.”

How much had I paid? “Not very much, only $9.”

Why did I buy it? “I was initially attracted by its small size, picked it up, read the label and realized it had to do with the Armenian Genocide and subsequent relief efforts.”

Why was that significant to me? “Because I grew up on a farm near Fresno amongst many Armenian-American farmers, and now I live in Glendale, which has an even larger contingent of Armenian Americans.”

Later, after the media had departed, my husband and I hung out in Demoyan’s office, watching the hustle and bustle involved in preparing for the arrival of the president.

As Demoyan and President Sargsyan made their way through the museum, we were again escorted to exhibit room 36. After more than an hour, someone came in: “five more minutes.” And then, there they were, trailed by several cameramen.

Demoyan told the president who I was and where I was from. And then it was my turn. Through an interpreter I told the story of finding the bottle and of our decision to donate it to the museum so that visitors could learn more about American relief efforts after the Armenian Genocide. I took the liberty of presenting him with a book I co-wrote, “Glendale,” by Arcadia Publishing, which tells our city’s history through postcard images.

Our trip has been remarkable in many ways. Armenia has been a Christian nation since 301 A.D. and we visited many monasteries, each in a spectacular setting. Everyone we met wanted to know why we had come and what we thought of their country. Plus, we met a number of people from Glendale who were visiting during this significant time of remembrance.

We’ll return to Glendale with many wonderful memories.

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KATHERINE YAMADA can be reached at katherineyamada@gmail.com or by mail at Verdugo Views, c/o News-Press, 202 W. First St., Los Angeles, CA 90012. Please include your name, address and phone number.