Ojen Fantazian
Ojen Fantazian
(Armenian Genocide survivor who lived for her family)
A woman who never wavered, not during the turmoil that struck her native village of Chimichgadzag. Not during the loss of her husband Harry at an early age. Not during an occasional health lapse that might have robbed her vitality, but never her spirit.
She regularly attended genocide commemorations, often the only survivor representing her peers; attended church services with family members; continued reading her Armenian journals; and still listened to an opera.
Ojen, along with her mother, grandmother, aunt, uncle, and two cousins, were driven from their village by Ottoman-Turkish scoundrels. As they fled for their lives, they squeezed into small places on undesirable transportation while traveling with soldiers.
Children in the family spent time in the orphanage while their parents tried to earn money in any way possible.
To illustrate the severity of her situation, Ojen told the story of an Armenian general who handed her mother a gun for protection on the road. She always remembered him as her hero.
“It’s a wonder we escaped,” Ojen often said. “A lot of times, we didn’t have food. We would suffer.”
After having her head shaved to ensure she would pass a lice inspection, Ojen and her family boarded a vessel departing for Greece, crossing the Black Sea and eventually landing on Ellis Island in 1920.
Ojen specifically recalled mothers throwing their children into the river, believing that such a burial was a more desirable fate than falling into the hands of the Turks. Her own mother once admitted she had considered doing the same.
“We would have been murdered or taken as slaves by the Turks,” she recounted. “I never knew my father, who had previously come to America when I was a baby. He never made it back to Armenia.”
The American dream quickly turned into reality. The family lived with an uncle in Leominster, Mass., quickly adapting to their new world.
Her mother remarried a fellow Armenian refugee and they moved to Lawrence, then Worcester, where her stepfather bought a convenience store. Ojen worked there as a child.
She spent most of her adult life in Arlington, where she and her husband raised two active children, James and Nancy, Two grandchildren, James Asbedian and Susan Ciaffi, and six great-grandchildren brought her extended happiness over time.
For 10 years, she helped teach English to foreign children in the Arlington School System and once presided over the Parent Teacher Organization (PTO). She was a lover of classical music, especially opera, and often attended the Metropolitan Opera Society presentations in Boston.
She enjoyed seeing some of the great artists of her time and instilled a musical interest in her children.
Ojen supported a number of Armenian charities throughout her life, donating what little money she could muster. For years, she sent the Prelacy checks for orphans, always with an encouraging note. Her generosity was straight from the heart.
“My age has nothing to do with it,” she often told others. “So long as I feel healthy and willing, I want to serve my heritage.”
(Armenian Genocide survivor who lived for her family)
A woman who never wavered, not during the turmoil that struck her native village of Chimichgadzag. Not during the loss of her husband Harry at an early age. Not during an occasional health lapse that might have robbed her vitality, but never her spirit.
She regularly attended genocide commemorations, often the only survivor representing her peers; attended church services with family members; continued reading her Armenian journals; and still listened to an opera.
Ojen, along with her mother, grandmother, aunt, uncle, and two cousins, were driven from their village by Ottoman-Turkish scoundrels. As they fled for their lives, they squeezed into small places on undesirable transportation while traveling with soldiers.
Children in the family spent time in the orphanage while their parents tried to earn money in any way possible.
To illustrate the severity of her situation, Ojen told the story of an Armenian general who handed her mother a gun for protection on the road. She always remembered him as her hero.
“It’s a wonder we escaped,” Ojen often said. “A lot of times, we didn’t have food. We would suffer.”
After having her head shaved to ensure she would pass a lice inspection, Ojen and her family boarded a vessel departing for Greece, crossing the Black Sea and eventually landing on Ellis Island in 1920.
Ojen specifically recalled mothers throwing their children into the river, believing that such a burial was a more desirable fate than falling into the hands of the Turks. Her own mother once admitted she had considered doing the same.
“We would have been murdered or taken as slaves by the Turks,” she recounted. “I never knew my father, who had previously come to America when I was a baby. He never made it back to Armenia.”
The American dream quickly turned into reality. The family lived with an uncle in Leominster, Mass., quickly adapting to their new world.
Her mother remarried a fellow Armenian refugee and they moved to Lawrence, then Worcester, where her stepfather bought a convenience store. Ojen worked there as a child.
She spent most of her adult life in Arlington, where she and her husband raised two active children, James and Nancy, Two grandchildren, James Asbedian and Susan Ciaffi, and six great-grandchildren brought her extended happiness over time.
For 10 years, she helped teach English to foreign children in the Arlington School System and once presided over the Parent Teacher Organization (PTO). She was a lover of classical music, especially opera, and often attended the Metropolitan Opera Society presentations in Boston.
She enjoyed seeing some of the great artists of her time and instilled a musical interest in her children.
Ojen supported a number of Armenian charities throughout her life, donating what little money she could muster. For years, she sent the Prelacy checks for orphans, always with an encouraging note. Her generosity was straight from the heart.
“My age has nothing to do with it,” she often told others. “So long as I feel healthy and willing, I want to serve my heritage.”