This group portrait shows my great-grandfather
Sarkis
Boyajian seated second from left.
His father was Haroutiun, the man
in the fez.
The picture is from the early 1900’s before
my great-grandfather immigrated to the United States.
The name Boyajian means “family of dyers,” as in the dying of fabrics.
These are some photographs I wanted to place on my web-site, since these people are my heritage and I’m so proud to be part of their family tree, and I’m proud to be of Boyajian blood.
As a child, I was fascinated by many of the black and white, sepia-toned photographs I would find in the family albums. I always loved hearing so many of the very wonderful and hilarious family stories. There are lots of great characters in my family, very humorous people in many hilarious situations. I never get tired of hearing the stories.
Many of my grandfather’s relatives were still alive when I was a child and also as I grew older into an adult. And here they were as children, as young people, marriage photos etc, looking back at me from old family pictures.
This group portrait shows my great-grandfather
Sarkis
Boyajian seated second from left.
His father was Haroutiun, the man
in the fez.
The picture is from the early 1900’s before
my great-grandfather immigrated to the United States.
The family portrait is of Sarkis (seated) with my great-grandmother Margaret Kizir-Boghossian and three of my grandfather’s sisters Marion, Martha and Flora, and Sarkis’ brother.
The Boyajian family were from a village called Hussenig, which was in a province of Kharpert. Recent maps show that Hussenig is no longer there, the territory is now Eastern Turkey.
I have a great book my mother gave me on the history of the village of Hussenig, by Maderos Deranian, from Armenian Heritage Press. (More info: National Association for Armenian Studies and Research, 395 Concord Ave., Belmont MA 02178.)
The single portrait is of my beloved grandfather
Robert
“Haig” Boyajian. I called him Papa. This was always my
favorite photo of him. He was a very special man who was very dear
to me, and the funniest man I ever knew. I loved him with all of
my heart. Growing up in his house as a child, his influence on me
was very direct, especially humor. He was brilliant with a quick
mind, and had a very dry delivery with excellent timing. He enjoyed
making people laugh, even if the joke was on him. He was a man who
was intensely passionate about many kinds of music, and theatre.
Classical European was his most favorite, as well as lots of Middle Eastern,
Mediterranean, everything from Armenian, Greek, Arabic, Turkish and Israeli
music. His great love was opera, and he loved to blast it on his
massive stereo system. My mother shared his passion for music and
I was influenced by both of them - I heard it frequently at home and at
clubs and Armenian picnics that my mother took me to, as well as the St.
James Armenian Church social events. I have a wonderful memory of
my grandfather commenting (in his humorous way, we always teased one another)
on my love for Rock n’ Roll, in turn I would tease him about opera, (however,
now I love it). He took me to his music room and said “Listen to
this, this is better than Rock n’ Roll” and he put on the turn-table some
real ass-kicking Armenian music. How prophetic this would eventually
become in my life later on. However, I still love Rock Music!
My grandfather passed away in 1983 and I love and miss dearly him to this
day. I’m a very lucky person to have had him as my grandfather.
Bless you Papa.