More than pomegranates: Remembering Vartkes Hovsepian

Vahe H. Apelian

Shant and Joe let me know that their father, Vartkes Hovsepian passed away on June 22. Vartkes and I were born a few months apart and were childhood friends and remained friends throughout our lives. I have one of my earliest pictures taken with him (posted below). That picture was taken in the old HMEM sports club in Beirut, before it was located to its present location. His father was the care taker of the club and that gave us a good opportunity to have the field for a playground.

In a comment, my cousin Stepan Apelian, younger than I by half a decade, best summed up  Vartkes in a few words. He wrote, “handsome (Գեղադէմ), jovial (Զուարթախօս), and sportive (կատակասէր), what a pleasant fellow (ընկերակից) he was.” Indeed, he was. No wonder that those who befriended him kept their friendships with him. In noting that, I have specially our mutual friend and contemporary Zeron Apelian in mind.

It so happened that his parental family and mine lived in the same neighborhood in West Beirut, a few hundred feet apart and we often played together, mostly in the courtyard of their residence. They lived in a single floor house, around a courtyard, that gave us room to play and help their Jewish neighbor put on their stove on Saturdays. Thus, I personally knew all the family members, his father Joseph, his mother Ovsanna, his brothers Avedis and Armen and his sisters Maro and Vartuhi, who married my mother’s paternal cousin Mesrob Chelebian. My mother was the wedding godmother at his sisters Maro’s and Vartuhi’s weddings. Their patriarchal house in Kessab was almost next to the mill. My grandfather used to take me with him on Saturdays to Kessab and I would spend time in their house as my grandfather had the grain he brought with him, mounted on our donkey’s back, milled. 

Later on, his parents moved to Keurkune. Their house faced Zeron Apelian family’s house and we remained hunting together, fishing and doing all the mischiefs kids and teens do. Vartkes and I did not live year around in Keorkune but spent our summers there.

Albert Apelian, Vahe H. Apelian, Vartkes Hovsepian and Vatche Apelian
at the Beirut International Airport

Vartkes left for U.S. early to join his sister Maro who had moved to the U.S. after marrying. Thus, we departed ways as we graduated our teens but our bonds transcended oceans and continents. He would send us pictures from the U.S. A few years later he came to the Lebanon for a visit. We spend memorable days together. 

In 1976 I also moved to the U.S. and settled in northern New Jersey, in Clifton, a town 10 miles west of the NY City. Our bond continued in the U.S. but it took an unexpected turn. A few years later Vartkes visited us. It must have been in 1982, in a short while I will explain why I think so. He was working as a representative of a dental company and thus travelled on business. His business travel had brought him to Philadelphia. He had made a point of visiting us, Marie, I and our first-born son Taniel, after having discharged his duties. He had brought with him pomegranates from Los Angeles. He knew that pomegranate is one of my favorite fruits, especially that our mutual friend Zeron Apelian’s family had a pomegranate tree in their orchard, next to Keurkune’s spring and I loved its fruit.  

A few days after his visit, I had the unpleasant experience of being questioned by FBI agents. Quoting Wikipedia: “In 1982, an attempt to bomb the building of Turkish consulate in Philadelphia was stopped by the FBI. The leader of the group, Vicken Hovsepian....” Vartkes Hovsepian checking in Philadelphia apparently had the FBI alarm bells ringing loud and wide and had them trailing the least likely of all suspects, Vartkes Hovsepian!

In 1982 I had not yet visited Los Angeles and had not seen my friends who had settled there. Vartkes visiting us from LA was memorable for us. Henceforth, whenever I went to LA and met him or contacted him, I would tease him, that on that day, he brought more than pomegranates. 

Over the years a transformation was a palpable in my childhood friend as he charted his course in life in his adopted country. He became the quintessential Armenian American very comfortable and easy going in the larger society much like in his own Armenian community. He was a law-abiding, hard-working, productive citizen of his adopted country he loved and served well. His interests outside his home, work was enjoying nature with friends, fishing and going hunting all the way to Mexico. In computer related parlance, what you saw was what got because that is what he was. He remained a good friend and supported his Armenian community, especially Kessab Armenian community. 

Vartkes was buried in Los Angeles National Cemetery. He was a U.S. Veteran and thus had merited the honor to be buried among those who honorably served the United States armed forces. He and his wife raised two sons.He leaves behind his widow Maral, his two sons, and two grandchildren. 

Well done, Vartkes. Rest in peace, my friend. Had he been asked if he would have wanted to have anything different. I know he would not have wanted to change an iota of the way it was.