V.H. Apelian's Blog: The Armenian Picnic

In Memory of Lucille Miller

Vaհe H. Apelian

It is the Armenian picnic season.

This year, on June 19, Marie and I attended the Fathers’ Day picnic held on the St. Gregory Armenian Apostolic church grounds, in Indian Orchard, MA. I had always wanted to be at the church. The priest graciously took us on a tour and showed us the church. This church, much like the other Armenian churches in the greater New England, built in the first half of the last century, is a treasure trove of history. Each Armenian church in the North East U.S.A., I have attended is a living museum of sort. We particularly enjoyed the St. Gregory Armenian Apostolic church picnic in Indian Orchard, where I heard a one-time popular song I had not for many and many years - "Sood e".

On August 7, the Holy Trinity Armenian Apostolic Church in Worcester, MA, will hold its annual picnic. A tradition that surly dates back since the church was built there in 1947.

Each church thus carries on the tradition. But the picnic of the Cincinnati, OH Armenians I attended, after we move there in 1995, stands apart from the rest and remains etched in my memory as the true Armenian picnic I ever attended.

The company I was going to work for moved me to Cincinnati in March 1995 and had the rest of the family move after the school was over. Serendipitous turn of events let us find out about the Armenian picnic in Cincinnati. The day the movers moved the family and the household, Marie and her mother, had gone, of a all places, to a local hardware store where a handsome, blue-eyed man had approached and asked them quizzically in what language they were talking and had answered them in the same. It turned out it was Gilbert Badeer. Born and raised in Lebanon to an Armenian evangelical family, Gilbert knew and spoke fluent Armenian and had married an Armenian lady and had settled in Loveland, OH, where we were to settle. I knew of Gilbert because his father Dr. Henry Badeer was the chairman of the physiology department of the American University of Beirut, where my maternal uncle Antranig Chalabian worked. It was Gilbert who let us know about the picnic the Armenians in Cincinnati organized around Fathers’ Day and had us contact Mrs. Lucille Miller, who turned out to be the doyenne of the Cincinnati Armenians.

Mrs. Lucille Miller, ne'e Anahid Dinglilian, ran their oriental rug business in downtown Cincinnati. Her parents Edward and Angella Dingilian had purchased the business from Hartenians in 1939. For the next six decades, the family continued the business but closed it sometime late 1990's. She was a lovely character and exuded the Armenian hospitality. It was she who let us know about the date and the place of the Armenian picnic to be held and urged us to attend. We did, the following year.

It turned out to be a unique event. No other Armenian picnic I had attended was quiet like that. The picnic was not denominational or partisan in any way. All that had transpired in Armenian life during the past decades seemed to have left the native Cincinnati Armenians in a blissful ignorance. They had come together that day simply because they were Armenians as they understood Armenian. Each had brought a favorite recipe handed to them from their parents or grandparents. They had stories to tell of bygone days. They spoke of Carole Black, a TV executive, about whom "People Magazine" had written: "Cincinnati native, was raised by her Armenian grandparents after her parents split when she was a baby. Her grandmother, she says "made me feel I could do anything in life". They also remembered Helen Pierce, Haig Boghossian's sister, who had run the picnic and had the community going for many and many years.

The Fathers’ Day picnic was the only Armenian event for the Armenian community in greater Cincinnati. In its hey days they had met also during Christmas. Those were the days when along with Dingilian; Markarian had his famous, “mark of excellence” carpet store. Markarians had passed away childless leaving their business to their loyal long-time employee and had made a sizeable donation to AGBU. The Amirkhanians had their carpet business as well. They had sold the business and moved on but the new owners retained the name. The candy store Boghosian ran in downtown was closed long ago.

In a matter of a few more years the Cincinnati Armenian picnic ceased to be held. Nature continued to take its course and excise its toll. Some passed away, some moved away, and some were too caught up with their daily routine to make room for the Armenian picnic.

Whenever I read the announcement for picnic by an Armenian church, I remain reminded of the truly Armenian picnic I attended, of all places in Cincinnati, OH. We met just because we wanted to meet another fellow Armenian whom we would not meet, maybe not even hear of, for the remainder of the year, until the following year’s Fathers’ Day picnic.

Pat Postalian, in the picture below, organized the Cincinnati Armenian picnics after Helen Pierce had passed her the mantle.