Chamichian family in 1892.

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The Chamichians of Ayntab

A Remembered World in Photographs and Voices

Author: David Louis Cort, 12/09/2026 (Last modified 12/09/2026) 

Family Portraits

In 1884, the Chamichians walked across town toward the western part of the Armenian Quarter. [1] They passed their Hayik Church with its small shining dome. Behind it stood the larger Apostolic church, its own dome still unbuilt. They looked up at the red-tile roofs of the American Hospital along the ridge of Tepe Bashi. They passed the park-like grounds of the Halladjian Orphanage and came to the new photography studio. It belonged to Hovhannes Halladjian, son of Reverend Haroutiun Halladjian, founder of the orphanage. Photography was still new in Ayntab, and having a portrait taken was a luxury for most families. The Halladjian studio had opened only that year, making this one of the earliest family portraits taken in the city. The Halladjians, like the Chamichians, were Protestants, and the families likely knew one another through church circles. [2]

The earliest known Chamichian in the family record is Maqdesi Nerses Chamichian. His title Maqdesi tells us that he had completed the Armenian Apostolic pilgrimage to Jerusalem, traveling along the caravan roads of the Ottoman Empire before visiting the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and other holy places. For a spiritually minded man like Maqdesi Nerses, the 1840s and 1850s were an exciting period in Ayntab’s religious life. In the mid-1840s, Bishop Mesrob became the first prelate to encourage laypeople to read the Gospel. He also permitted a businessman to import a box of Armeno-Turkish Gospels into the city. From a handful of converts in 1848, Ayntab’s Protestant movement grew into a congregation of hundreds within a few years. In 1853, Ayntab received a new prelate, Bishop Mgrdich Shahanian, who later left the Apostolic Church and founded Ayntab’s Anglican church.

The same year Bishop Shahanian arrived, Maqdesi Nerses became one of Ayntab’s early Protestant converts, at a time when worshippers still met in private homes. Nerses likely stood with the congregation at the dedication of Ayntab’s First Protestant Church in 1855. The following year, he would have witnessed the call of Reverend Kara Krikor Haroutiunian as pastor. When Reverend Kara Krikor left in 1865 to found the Second Protestant Church, later known as the Hayik Church, Nerses joined him. [3]

But where had Nerses come from? The family’s traditions point toward Persia, and they fit a historical pattern. For centuries, Armenian pilgrims traveled from Armenian communities throughout Persia toward Jerusalem, and Ayntab lay on one of the overland routes. Some pilgrims chose to remain there. [4] Among Nerses’s descendants, one recalled that he “was told long time ago” that the Chamichian family “originally came from Urmia district of Persian Armenia”; another recalled an origin in Isfahan, adding that they came “from Persia with pistachio saplings”; and a third recalled simply “Iran.” [5]

Though the traditions differ on where the family came from, they agree on one point: Nerses’s land. He is said to have come to Ayntab to purchase property, acquiring pistachio groves, fig orchards, vineyards, and other lands.

“Purchase, purchase, purchase, purchase. He had 82 pieces of land. Each land is as big as a town. A small town,” his great-great-granddaughter Agnes recalled. “I remember my mom, during the war, World War Number One, I was a four-year-old child. My mother took me to one of the villages. There was a fig orchard. It was a hill like this. You’d go on top of the hill and look as far as you can see: it’s yours.”

She also remembered the pistachio harvest.

“Huge sacks of ’em. Two to a camel. Forty camels at once. They would bring them to the town. He had a big yard there. So the camels bring the load. Unload it. Each sack full, full of pistachios. You see the whole caravan coming—one end is here, the other is a mile away!”

Maqdesi Nerses became known as Fıstık Padişah, the “Pistachio King.” [6]

His only son, Jurjy Chamichian, inherited these estates. Like his father, he was active in the Hayik Church and served as one of its lay leaders. He also owned at least one large house in the Turkish Quarter of the city, not far from the Citadel. [7] Agnes recalled dinners in the courtyard of the Chamichian home where Jurjy would butcher four or five sheep. “They set big tables for all the neighborhood. Pashas like him.” One of them presented Jurjy with a gold ring set with a valuable green stone. [8]

Jurjy married Anna Deukmejian at a young age, likely by the mid-to-late 1860s. [9] Her family’s house stood on Tarla-i Atik (“Old Field Road”), near the Balıklıgan district, only a short walk from the Chamichian home. When Jurjy and Anna were married, family and friends likely walked along Tarla-i Atik to the Deukmejian house to escort Anna to her new home, as wedding parties did in Ayntab. The connection between the two families continued into the next generation: Jurjy and Anna’s daughter Anitza also married a Deukmejian. [10]

Jurjy and Anna began their family early. One tradition recalls that Jurjy’s father, Nerses, pressed him to marry young and to have a child soon after, so that he might live to see a grandson. When Yacoub was born, Nerses immediately sent men to plant olive trees on two hundred acres of land near the village of Orul as a birthday present for his grandson. [11]

By the time the family entered the Halladjian photography studio in 1884, Jurjy and Anna had seven children. Yacoub, Munevver, Krikor, Anitza, Nerses, Rahel, and Yester appear in their family portrait.

Men in Ayntab wore a zouboun, a full-length, long-sleeved robe with a closed collar, together with a red fez, a broad sash, and red slippers with black stockings. Over the zouboun, wealthier tradesmen wore a ferman, an embroidered vest, while Western-style jackets became increasingly common among educated men. Seated beside his wife and surrounded by their children, Jurjy Chamichian wore the traditional fez with a Western-style jacket, but beneath them his clothing reflected changing fashions. Instead of the zouboun, he wore a patterned waistcoat with Western-style trousers—commonly called a “forked tree” (çatal ağaç) or setrak pantalon—and leather shoes. The rest of the family likewise wore Western dress. [12]

Kevork Sarafian notes that Western dress was worn by “professors, pastors, doctors, government officials, most college graduates, and by some members of rich families.” On Sundays, Jurjy would not join the men seated on carpets covering the floor of the Hayik Church. Instead, he would sit on a bench along the wall with the men who wore trousers. [13]

Sometime after the family portrait was taken, Jurjy’s eldest son Yacoub returned to the Halladjian studio for a portrait of his own.Here Yacoub sits alone. He is dressed in the same Western style, with a stiff collar and cravat. Unlike his father in the earlier portrait, he wears light-colored trousers. Beside him, a small table holds a modern clock and a small stack of books. Beneath the books, he appears to have signed the portrait in neat Osmanlı Turkish script, revealing a practiced hand: ا ل كاتب ياخوب چامچيان (“The writer, Yacoub Chamichian.”) [14]

In the family portrait, only Jurjy wears a fez, set low against his forehead with no hair visible in front, the style associated with mature men. Here Yacoub wears his fez slightly higher, leaving a fringe of hair visible, a style often associated with students and younger men. [15] Yet the portrait presents him not as a schoolboy but as a confident young man ready to take his place in his family and community. In time, he assumed responsibility for his father’s lands and pistachio groves. His education in Osmanlı Turkish would have prepared him well for managing the family’s estate. Agnes, his granddaughter, remembered him as “a big shot” who would “get on his horse with a whip in his hand,” going from “one village to the other, collect the money.” [16]

Within a few years, he married Haiganoush Markarian, daughter of Reverend Garabed Markarian, pastor of Ayntab’s Third Protestant Church. [17] Yacoub and Haiganoush’s daughter Jemile was born in 1888. [18] The next family portrait, taken in 1892, shows Jurjy and Anna’s final two children, Louder and Marie, together with Yacoub’s young family. Haiganoush stands beside him, while young Jemile leans against her grandfather Jurjy’s knee, her foot turned slightly, looking uncertainly toward the camera. Several years later, Jemile’s younger siblings were born: Rosa, Yusuf (also called Joe), Annali, and George.

School

In the 1892 photograph, Jemile was still a small child, just a few years before she would enter the school attached to her church. By the time she entered, Ayntab’s Evangelical community had adopted Armenian as the language of instruction. [19] At home, most families still spoke Turkish, while children like Jemile were among the first to be educated primarily in Armenian. [20] 

“We spoke in Turkish, not Armenian,” Jemile’s sister Annali recalled. “My grandmother and my grandfather used to have a paper reading always.” [21] They were almost certainly reading Armeno-Turkish newspapers, which were common in Ayntab. Many newspapers appeared in parallel editions: one in Armenian, the other in Turkish printed in Armenian letters. [22] School textbooks continued to appear in Armeno-Turkish into the 1890s. [23] “The Protestant church was conducted in Turkish,” according to Annali. The congregation sang from Armeno-Turkish hymnals, and the family Bible was likely titled ՔԻԹԱՊ Ը ՄՈՒԳԱՏՏԷՍ (Kitabı Mukaddes). [24]

“I learned to read and write Armenian in the preparatory school in Aintab. We went to the school attached to the church. We gave money to the church, and the church used some of that money for schools.” [25] Jemile entered the preparatory school around 1894 and continued through the upper school, where each morning began with a religious service that included Bible readings, hymns, sermons, and prayers, all in Armenian. [26] She likely completed the equivalent of high school at the Girls’ Seminary around 1906. Before long, the little girl who had leaned against her grandfather’s knee in the 1892 family portrait had become a young teacher at an orphanage in Ayntab. At the same time, her youngest siblings, George and Annali, were just beginning to sit on the floor of their church school and trace their first Armenian letters, just as Jemile herself had done before them. [27]

Armeno-Turkish Protestant hymnal. The heading reads “ՔԻԹԱՊ Ը ՄՈՒԳԱՏՏԷՍ” (Kitabı Mukaddes, “The Holy Book”). This section contains hymns about the Bible. ARIT / SALT Research, Armeno-Turkish Editions of Books collection.
Armenian Girls reading in what appears to be a classroom in Ayntab, seated behind small stacks of books. Unpublished photograph by Ray Travis. Courtesy of the Yates County History Center.
Unattributed photograph looking east from the Akyol neighborhood in Ayntab, from the late 1920s or early 1930s. At left, market gardens extend toward the domed Tufa Hamam (public bath). The hill rising behind it in the center of the photograph is the Armenian district of Kayacık, where the bell tower of the First Protestant (Kayajik) Church rises above the skyline. Akyol Street, running upward from the bottom of the photograph, bends left (north) around the Tufa Hamam before turning east along the edge of the Kayacık district. It disappears from view, crossing the Transversal before becoming Suburcu Street and continuing toward the mosques in the distance. The dome and distant minaret belong to the Alaüddevle Mosque; the nearer minaret, to the Karagöz Mosque. One block south of these mosques stood the Chamichian house.

Life in Ayntab

Through the memories of Annali and Jemile’s daughter Agnes, we catch glimpses of the family’s life in Ayntab.

Their house stood in the Turkish Quarter beneath the citadel, just below Suburcu Street. [28] Annali recalled, “We had a very large house where my uncle lived on one side and we lived on the other. We lived in a mixed neighborhood, on the street where the ‘Beys’ lived, the rich people.”

“We did not have too many Armenian neighbors and grandmother used to come over often. These wealthy women used to go visiting to each other’s home. They all lived in beautiful homes and took turns going around.” [29]

She added, “Some of them were Turks.” [30]

Agnes also remembered her grandfather’s “big yard,” where one side “is like the kitchen.” There, “they set big tables for all the neighborhood. Pashas like him.” [31]

Houses in Ayntab were often arranged around a central courtyard, with relatives sharing the same yard while living in separate rooms that opened onto it. The kitchen was commonly located at one end of the courtyard, which served as the center of family life. [32]

In one photograph, Jemile sits beneath the shade of large trees with her younger siblings gathered around her, likely in the courtyard of the Chamichian home. Annali holds a piece of fruit, a white flower visible behind her. Rosa holds a cluster of blossoms with trailing leaves, reminiscent of wisteria, as a woven garden screen curves upward behind her. Beneath their feet lie rectangular paving stones. Sunlight filters through the branches, scattering patches of light across the stones. [33] 

“We had a big family. Oh, everybody in the yard, we would all get together at night. And used to play, and used to talk, and used to have a good time together…. Then all our cousins used to come over and we used to cover our eyes and play hide and seek blindfolded. We also used to jump rope.”

“Down in the corner,” her grandparents sat with their newspapers. “We used to go and kiss grandpa’s and grandma’s hand. They used to give us a dime or nickel or something.”

Music was part of their gatherings as well. “[Jemile] used to play organ, we used to sing together and we enjoyed ourselves very much.” [34]

The Chamichian family table included a variety of traditional dishes of Ayntab. They enjoyed several kinds of kefta, seasoned ground meat served raw (chi kefta), baked on a tray (sini kefta), or formed into meatballs in a yogurt soup (keftali yakni). Another favorite was yatma, a flattened and baked form of chi kefta. They also served mantı, small pockets of dough in a yogurt sauce. Meals featured kebab formed into small patties, along with pilaf and vegetable dishes. Among these were tava (vegetables baked in a pan),  fasoulya (beans), and bamya (okra, affectionately remembered as “bammer” in later generations). Sweets included pakhlava, coiled burma, and walnut-filled kunefe. [35]

For neighborhood feasts, four or five sheep might be butchered and served in the courtyard. “They boil them, cook them, broil them, whatever,” Agnes remembered. [36]

Annali remembered, “They used to dry tomatoes and make tomato sauce. They used to take the filling out of eggplant and hang them. They made ‘basterma,’ ‘soujoukh or yershig.’” [37] 

Agnes recalled family stories of “washing wheat” during the preparation of bulgur, with wheat spread on the ground near the courtyard well. “Munevver Auntie was there…. Sackfuls of wheat. You send to the mill to be cleaned and ground. Beautiful wheat,” she said. “Stacked full of flour. Poor people can’t afford that. They saw they were pretty rich.” [38]

Agnes remembered her mother saying, “Eat! Nobody has got ’em! Here we have abundance. Eat!”

And she never forgot the pomegranates: “The branches are so heavy they come down…. Such abundance.” [39]

Annali recalled, “A lot of our goods came from our villages, but still we had to buy things from the stores.” [40] A short walk east of their home led into the city’s markets. In the early morning bazaar, piles of bright peppers stood in the street beneath the Hacı Veli Mosque. Beyond it lay the fruit-scented Almacı Bazaar and the crowded passageways of the Arasa. Nearby, grain rose in yellow mounds in the Buğday Wheat Bazaar, while the Copper Bazaar rang with the sound of coppersmiths hammering giant trays and jezvehs. Many of the market streets were shaded by hanging covers, like those lining Uzun Çarşı (the Long Market). A block from the Chamichian house, awnings stretched from one side of the street to the other, shading the crossing and forming Ağamın Kabaltı, a covered intersection lined with merchants’ stalls. [41]

“We had steam baths. It was a nice place, we were comfortable.” [42] A few minutes’ walk northwest of their home stood the Tufa Hamam, one of the public baths shared by Muslims and Armenians in the Akyol neighborhood. [43] Annali and her family may have bathed there. It rose like a beehive, a domed mound above the street. A flight of stone steps descended into underground chambers where the air grew warmer with each room. On women’s day, Annali, her mother, and her sisters, Jemile and Rosa, would have spent hours there, moving from the cool room to the warm room and then into the hot room. When a voice called from the boiler room, “Su geldi! The water has come!” they hurried to fill their basins with hot water. This was the “first water” (birinci su). They scrubbed one another with orange-scented clay, rinsed it away, and spread their lunch on the floor for an underground picnic of watermelon and loğlaz piyazı, a salad of black-eyed peas with onions and herbs. After “second water” (ikinci su), they emerged clean and comfortable. [44]

To the west of their home, the streets opened into the Hayik Armenian neighborhood, where the Hayik Church stood in the shadow of the Apostolic Church.

Annali remembered those early walks to church:

“She used to wake us early in the morning.
Bells ring to go to church.
We used to go Sunday, Easter morning, Christmas morning.
We all get together in our best things and go to church.
Real dark.
Along those Turkish blocks.
Early in the morning to church it does something, you know.” [45]

At the entrance, they removed their shoes before stepping onto the carpets spread across the floor. A railing divided the sanctuary, with Annali joining her mother and sisters in the women’s section while her brothers sat among the men. Far overhead rose the dome. At the front, raised on a cut-stone dais, stood the badveli’s platform with its red marble pulpit and crimson velvet upholstery. On the wall hung a clock, a gift from the students of Yale Divinity School.

The service began when the badveli announced the opening hymn. As the organist began to play the cabinet organ, the congregation rose and sang together. Scripture was read aloud, followed by a sermon. Then the choir sang a hymn. Jemile sang with the choir.

After the benediction, Annali and her family put on their shoes and walked home through the streets of Hayik. [46]

Rhythms of Life

In summer, the family moved to the country. “Those who could afford it went to the villages,” Annali recalled. [47] “We did, especially when it was the year for pistachios. That crop produced every two years. So when it was the season, we would go and eat some of the crop.” [48]

In winter, families visited, passing the long evenings together. “Wintertime, and it snows…. We used to make some kadayif or if company comes we used to have big refreshment table and at night we all get together…. And when late time comes, we all go home.” [49]

Much of winter life centered around the tonir, a low table placed over a charcoal fire burning in a round pit in the floor, draped with a heavy quilt. [50] Around it, the Chamichians would have gathered, sitting close together with their legs tucked beneath the quilt. [51] The tonir served as both heater and table, and long evenings there were filled with Khoja stories and bites of spicy walnut jam. Coffee was prepared in a copper jezveh, letting it rise three times, with a dollop of foam in each cup. [52]

On New Year’s, children went door to door, receiving treats as they sang. Agnes later remembered a bit of a song, something like: 

“Gaghandos! Bastuk, sejuk, verinler!” [53]

At Christmas, the house filled with song. “We would get up early in the morning and start singing songs, Christmas songs. And suddenly they’d bring out the presents and candy. All the family members would get things. Then we would continue singing and finally all go to church. After church we’d come home and all kiss each other, eat a big meal.” [54] Annali remembered that her older sister Jemile “used to prepare gifts for everybody.” Everybody received “at least one apple—nice, big, beautiful apple.” Her mother, Annali recalled, “used to put something on the stocking.... She used to make us happy. Mmmmm.” [55] 

For the next three days, families visited friends and relatives, sharing Christmas lokhoum. [56]

Easter followed its own three-day rhythm. [57] The first day was for church. The family rose to the sound of bells. They likely walked through Balıklıgan, past the YMCA, to Hayik Church with its shining metal dome. [58] The second day, Merelotz, was for visiting the Armenian cemetery on the south side of town to remember their loved ones. The third day was for a picnic. Families packed choreg and cheese and walked to Kavaklık, where they ate their sandwiches beside the brook and listened to the rippling water. They picked chamomile growing beside the stream before walking home, snacking on leblebu and nuts along the way. [59]

“Wintertime, and it snows . . .” Ayntab in winter, looking south from Tepe Bashi to Mardin. Frank W. Peers albums, 1919–1920, vol. 3, image 86a, Harvard University.
Balıklıgan, Ayntab, ca. 1925–1928. A shop sign in Ottoman Turkish is visible at right. Unattributed photograph.
Hayik (Second Protestant) Church in Ayntab. Photograph by Glen Russell Carrier and Loyal Lincoln Wirt for Near East Relief, 1919. Harvard Fine Arts Library, Special Collections, Near East Relief Collection (NERC.211).

Annali remembered the preparations: “We dyed eggs and baked special things. We made jajekh. They used to cook lamb’s head—that was special. Pacha too, which was a soup-like dish made from the lamb’s legs.” [60] 

There were other family celebrations as well. When Annali was still in preparatory school, her sister Jemile became engaged. Agnes, Jemile’s daughter, later told the story.

At church, she recalled, “they were only on the floor.
They sit on the rugs, Persian rugs.
We were on one side, men on one side. You don’t get close.
When you walk in, you take your shoes off and put them someplace.
My mom was in the choir… and it happened that my father went to the same church.
One day they were coming out to their shoes.
People go and look for their shoes, find their shoes and put them on.
My dad said, ‘While putting my shoes on, if she looks at me… I’m sure that I’ll marry her.’
So they were there—my father on that side, and she on this side.
He trying his shoes on, mom trying her shoes on.
Daddy turned and looked—and she was looking at him. Their eyes met.
And he decided: she was the one he should marry.”

Aunties were sent to check on the prospective bride’s family.
They found Munevver Chamichian there, with wheat spread out near the well.
They had been washing wheat.

Grandma said, “Well, they have a pretty nice house.
And they have plenty of wheat in there.” [61]

As the summer passed and the wheat was ground, they negotiated the match. When the Chamichians finally agreed, the two families became khnami—relatives joined through the engagement. 

They likely followed the customs of Ayntab. An evening would have been chosen for the formal “word binding,” the engagement ceremony. Carrying kerosene lanterns, Hovsep and his family would have walked to the Chamichian home in the Turkish Quarter, with Hovsep waiting nearby while the families exchanged congratulations and shared fruit. Then he would have been called in as Jemile emerged from the khazna, the family’s inner storeroom, and the two sat side by side for the first time. [62]

The following year brought another wedding in the family—that of Annali’s Uncle Louder.

“I remember my doctor uncle’s wedding. We all had to walk over to get the bride and then come back on foot. First the neighbors made a soup that we all drank, and then we came to our house and made a huge pot of pilaf. My grandfather had hired a special person to cook all this—pilaf and pakhlava and other things. The courtyard was filled with guests. They were all Armenians, except perhaps a neighbor or two.

I don’t think they went on a honeymoon. I think they just settled into the house from the first.”

Instead of leaving on a honeymoon, Louder and Rosa likely began their married life in the family’s khazna, the inner storeroom where raisins, figs, and the bridal chest were kept. It was the house’s only private room, and newly married couples slept there until the birth of their first child. [63]

Annali was about ten years old when her mother died, giving birth to her sixth child. Her mother was thirty-seven. [64] 

“When my mother died… they kept her in the house. They rang a bell so people would hear. When they heard the bell, they found out who had died, and they came to visit the family. She was a good person, and people liked her. 

For the burial, they placed the coffin on their shoulders and walked with her to the church first, and then to the cemetery. I remember them burying her. It was quite a long distance from our house.” [65]

In time, her father remarried. Ovsanna Bulbulian came from one of Ayntab’s prominent Evangelical families, one closely connected to the First Protestant Church through Reverend Hagop Bulbulian. [66] She and Yacoub had one child, a son named Jamil. [67] 

Soon after Jamil’s birth, Yacoub died of cholera. The bell rang again. Annali and her siblings were left in their grandfather’s care—“grandfather orphans.” [68]

Annali remembered Turkish acquaintances as part of everyday life. Among them was a Turkish man named Belle Effendi. “He was a very nice man and used to spend a lot of time talking with my grandfather,” she recalled. Turkish neighbors also visited the family home. Some attended her Uncle Louder’s wedding. Yet she remembered that Armenians never entirely escaped the fear of violence. “The Turks ruled,” she said. “Whenever there were uprisings, the Turks used to come and sit in front of our house, so that when the orders came, they would come in and rob us. In front of our eyes, they used to scare us.” 

Then World War I began. 

Her grandfather Jurjy owned a herd of trained mules, which he used to transport produce to the han. When the Ottoman military began requisitioning transport animals for the war, officials came for his mules.

“They frightened him and insisted on taking them. He came home upset and frightened, and while talking to my uncle, he had a heart attack and died.” [69]

With Jurjy’s death, responsibility for the family’s properties passed to his son, Nerses. When the time came, it was Nerses who was ordered to register them.

Deportation

Easter came on April 4 in 1915. On Sunday, the family rose to bells and walked through the dark lanes to church. The following day they visited the Armenian cemetery to remember their loved ones. The next day they joined friends and relatives for a picnic in the park along the willow-lined creek at Kavaklık, as they had so many times before.

Within weeks the park was crowded once more with Armenians—but not picnickers. Women and children from Zeitun had been ordered by the Ottoman government to leave their homes in the mountains. Kavaklık became a stopping place for them on their march south. [70]

Through the summer, Kavaklık remained full of Armenians deported from other parts of the empire, driven south toward Damascus or the deserts of Deir ez-Zor. Families spread across the meadow and gathered beneath the willows, sheltering under blankets and scraps of cloth. [71]

By the end of July, Armenians from Ayntab—friends, neighbors, and colleagues of the Chamichians—received notice that they too must leave. At first, it was only Apostolic Armenians. In September, Catholic Armenians were added. By December, in falling snow, Ayntab’s Protestants were told to register their property and leave. [72]

The Chamichians would separate into two worlds: some remaining in Ayntab, others sent south.

As winter wore on, the order reached their street. [73] The dellals, town criers, stood outside and called:

“Nerses Chamichian is ordered to leave his house.” [74]

The order came to a street where Armenians and Turks had long lived as neighbors. Annali remembered wealthy women visiting one another’s homes, adding, “Some of them were Turks.” The deportations would reveal how fragile those ties could be.

After the town crier’s call, Nerses had only a day to register his property. He made his way toward Kayacık, likely along Suburcu Street, passing the police station and the CUP clubhouse before reaching the Ottoman Bank to submit a petition listing his house, lands, and possessions. Then he hurried home. [75]

The family gathered what they could carry—bedding, food, a few belongings. They hired donkeys. 

For Annali and her siblings, one question remained. They were orphans, living under their uncle’s roof. If he left, should they go with him? If they stayed, who would care for them?

“My uncle got orders that he has to leave his house. We did not get any such orders, but we all went with my uncle and his family. One of my sisters [Jemile] was married. George, Joe, Annalin and Rose. We four went voluntarily because we had no one to stay with. How crazy, what reasoning. As though we were going on a pleasure trip. We should not have gone. We should have stayed. No one told us to stay.” [76]

They went with him.

They traveled by day and slept in the open, crossing the mountains on donkeys until they reached the station near Akçakoyunlu. [77]

Annali’s brother Joe went ahead. He had sewn a few gold liras into his waist-shirt. Along the way, gendarmes seized him and tried to force him to surrender them, but he refused. They harassed him, then let him go, and he made his way to Aleppo. [78]

When it was their turn, the remaining siblings, along with their uncle Nerses and his family, were taken south by train from Akçakoyunlu toward Damascus. They passed through station after station—Çobanbey, Ahtarin, Muslimie Junction, and finally Baghdad Station in Aleppo. “For some reason they did not send us toward Der El Zor as they did to so many others.” [79]

In Aleppo they found Joe, but they had nowhere to stay. Their enişte—Jemile’s husband, Hovsep—was in Aleppo, serving in the Ottoman army. He managed to get hold of them and helped the family find work and shelter. “We cleaned the places of the horses. Cleaned the place and we slept there…. We have to live in the places of the stable.” [80]

Soon they were sent farther south, to Salamiyya. They survived as best they could, taking odd jobs and trading for food. “My brother used to go and sell some khourabia… and make a few dollars.” Her sister babysat and brought home what food she was given. At times they bartered for wheat to bake bread. [81]

Disease was a constant threat. “We all had typhus… but we all recovered.” Many did not. [82]

By the final years of the war, conditions grew desperate. Prices rose beyond reach. Like many Armenians driven by hunger, they risked leaving the relative security of Salamiyya. [83] “We dressed like Turks and ran away to Aleppo.” They also changed their names—as many Armenians did to survive. [84]

“We went to Aleppo. And we don’t have anything, anything. No clothing, no beds, nothing.” [85]

Once again, family made the difference. Their Auntie Meriye—Uncle Nerses’s wife—gathered what she could: a bundle of bedding, quilts, and soup, and shared it with them. [86] “We had something to spread underneath us and a blanket on top of us, and that’s how the four of us slept.” [87]

In Aleppo, many deportees who had left Salamiyya found work in the imalat hane, the Ottoman military workshops. “We used to go spin some wool. And they used to give a loaf of bread every day.” [88]

By the end of October 1918, Aleppo was no longer under Ottoman rule. [89]

Those Who Stayed

When the deportations began, Jemile sewed hats.

“Sun hats, sun bonnets, so that when we went we wouldn’t have sunburn,” Agnes recalled. 

“They had to leave and go, leave and go, leave and go. They were all so… sad. From their families, from their homes, with clothes on their backs.” [90]

The year before, in 1914, Jemile’s husband Hovsep had entered military service in the Ottoman army. When the deportation orders came, she went to the authorities.

“My husband is in the service. I cannot go.”
“Okay.” [91]

The Chamichians were now living in two different worlds. Uncle Nerses and his family, along with Annali and her siblings, had been deported south to Salamiyya. In Ayntab, Jemile remained with her daughters, together with Ovsanna and Jamil, Louder’s family, and Hovsep’s sisters.

Agnes recalled: “We were fortunate because my father was registered in the army as a bread baker. Because she was the family of a soldier, we were exempted. We were not sent with the other groups.” As her brother Barkev said, “He was lucky to be drafted.” [92]

Jemile’s uncle Louder Chamichian, who had married just a few years earlier, was also serving in the Ottoman army. His wife, Rosa, and their young son remained in Ayntab during the deportations. [93] 

Jemile’s stepmother, Ovsanna Chamichian, and her young son Jamil also remained in Ayntab. Annali remembered:

“She didn’t go. She didn’t go no place. I don’t know how she did it, but she stayed.” [94]

They were not deported. [95]

Hovsep had been a weaver before he was drafted. His loom still stood in a corner of the room. Jemile began to weave. Barkev recalled:

“She’s not experienced. She cannot produce. The thread breaks. She doesn’t know which way to go…. One day a friend comes and sees my mother crying. ‘What happened?’
‘I don’t know,’ she says. ‘I cannot do this.’” [96]

One day, Jemile took her daughter, Agnes, to see the orchards the family had owned before the deportations.

“I was a four-year-old child,” Agnes remembered, sweeping her hand upward. “It was a hill like this. You’d go on top of the hill and look as far as you can see: it’s yours.” [97]

Then they turned and went home.

In August 1915, the Ottoman authorities requisitioned Armenian churches and schools. [98]

Jemile had taught at an orphanage before her marriage, and her husband’s sister Noonya had been a second-grade teacher at their church school. They opened a small school in their home for Armenian children. [99]

“Every kid would bring some amount of money.”

The children marched around the dirt floor of their courtyard as Jemile sang:

“Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-doo… Ba-bum-bum.”

It was the tune to “Over the Waves,” a popular waltz of the period. Jemile had learned it from a wax-cylinder gramophone Uncle Louder brought home from Istanbul or Beirut.

She continued the school until the end of the war. [100]

Weaver at a loom in Ayntab. Frank W. Peers albums, 1919–1920, vol. 2, image 172a, Harvard University.
Interior of the Hayik (Second Protestant) Church of Ayntab after its closure. Photograph by Glen Russell Carrier for Near East Relief, 1919. Harvard Fine Arts Library, Special Collections, Near East Relief Collection (NERC.211).
Mule carts, possibly near Ayntab. Unpublished photograph by Ray Travis. Courtesy of the Yates County History Center.

Leaving Ayntab

After the war, some Chamichians still remained in Ayntab. Louder Chamichian’s family survived there, as did Ovsanna Chamichian and her son Jamil. Jemile and her daughters, Agnes and Ruth, held on with their school until no students remained.

Others were in Aleppo. Annali and Rosa remained there, survivors of deportation, along with their uncle Nerses Chamichian and his family.

On New Year’s Day, 1919, Jemile and Noonya took the girls to the American College. Hovsep was returning, four years to the day after he had left home.

Agnes remembered it like a picture:

“My daddy with a long coat down to the floor, cap on his head. Auntie Noonya said, ‘That’s your daddy!’ I ran. My daddy, my dad!”

They went home. In late 1919, Jemile gave birth to another child.

But as Agnes remembered, “It didn’t last long.” [101]

In Ayntab, tension had been building for months. Armenians no longer crossed into Turkish neighborhoods. Shops closed at the slightest alarm as armed men moved through the streets. Armenians were arrested and murdered. [102]

In February 1920 the French withdrew from Marash. Thousands of Armenians were massacred. Many more froze along the road. [103]

“We had to leave. My father knew this.” [104]

Jemile’s sisters were already in Aleppo. Hovsep went with the convoy to join them and find work and a place for the family. Jemile began to sell what they had.

“They had a mattress and a comforter. She sold the comforter for two gold liras.”

With that, they would go to Aleppo. [105]

On April 1, 1920, fighting broke out in Ayntab. Armenians had not expected the attack. They pulled tiles and stones from old houses and stacked them to barricade the streets. [106] 

French convoys brought food from Kilis, but it was difficult to get through, and after several weeks food ran short. On the evening of May 24, Captain Renaud met with the Armenian National Union and explained that 6,000 Armenians would need to leave the city with the returning convoy. The Armenian leadership agreed. The next morning, notices appeared on the walls of the city: those who wished to leave would depart that very night. [107]

Jemile and Ovsanna read the notices together. They talked it over and decided to go. They were required to sell whatever they could not take with them to the Armenian Provisioning Committee. They also had to obtain approval from the committee overseeing departures. [108] Then they had to pack.

“We packed everything. My mother had friends—they came and packed, pack, pack, pack.” [109]

Ovsanna packed her photograph of a young Yacoub in his fez. Jemile put a smaller picture in her bundle, cut from a photograph showing her father and grandfather on the steps, along with one from her wedding day.

Around four o’clock, Turkish shells began to fall near the refugees gathered outside the College on the road to Kilis. One shell struck a wagon. The French answered with three batteries. [110]

“I could hear the cannon roaring—the French cannon on the Turkish quarters, bombarding them.” [111] 

Later that night, friends helped carry their bundles out to the road where the convoy was gathering. “That night, I remember, we came with big bundles,” Agnes said. The children climbed onto the bundles—Jamil and Agnes, Ruth and the baby.
“We were there on top of the load under the stars.”

While the children waited, Ovsanna and Jemile went to hire an arabiyyeh, a mule cart. [112] They left Agnes in charge of the baby. When they returned, Jemile cried out: “Where’s the baby? The baby’s under the quilt? He’s not breathing!” She grabbed him. “What shall I tell his father? What shall I tell his father?”

Grandma Ovsanna took the baby and patted him hard on the back. He opened his eyes.

They loaded their bundles into the arabiyyeh and climbed on top.

Then it began to rain. Jemile held an umbrella, the baby in her arms, as the convoy left in the dark. It rained all night. Before dawn they reached Ulu Mezre. [113]

“In the morning, the sun was shining,” Agnes remembered. The quilts and pillows were caked with red mud.

By evening, the convoy set out again. [114] 

“We put the muddy clothes, muddy mattresses, everything, in the arabiyyeh and we sat on top.”

They traveled through the night. By early morning, the family approached Kilis, following the line of telegraph poles into the city. Later, shots sounded far behind them. At the last stream crossing, Turkish cavalry struck the rear of the column. A French medical officer was killed. [115]

Agnes heard nothing of the attack.

Most of the families who had left Ayntab began to unload their carts in Kilis. Jemile and Ovsanna did not. A small group was going on to Aleppo—“About 40 or 50 families,” Agnes remembered.

The animals had barely rested, but they pushed on through the heat all day. They passed Azaz in the afternoon, crossed the Baghdad Railway after sunset, and reached Qatma Railway Station that night. [116]

“We stayed in those carriages three nights and three days,” Agnes said.

“We were thirsty. There was no water. My mom found a little samovar.” 

Jemile took it to a driver and tried the few Arabic words she knew. 

“Khaito, khaito, mai, mai”—sister, sister, water, water. 

He gave her some. “So she gives us a little drink.” [117]

Then a cry rose through the crowd. “Hey… hey… The train! The train!” Everyone began moving, pushing. They climbed onto the open flatcars and sat on their bundles. “We were up. Everybody was on top of the train,” Agnes remembered.

That night they stayed on the train. The next day it began to move. By afternoon, they saw Aleppo.

People clapped. “Hey!” In the crowd, Agnes saw her aunt. “I saw my aunt. Hey! She has come. Aunt Rosa, my mom’s sister. Auntie Rosa got a carriage for us.” They went with her through the city to the house Hovsep had rented. It was “a big room for us. Six windows and a door.”

“That’s the beginning of Aleppo.”

Ovsanna was there. Hovsep too. The children—Jamil and Agnes, Ruth and the baby.

And the three sisters—Jemile, Rosa, and Annali.

Family Portraits

In Aleppo, the family gathered for portraits.

The three sisters stood for a portrait together, Jemile and Rosa turned slightly to the side, Annali looking straight ahead. [118]

Nerses and his family posed for their portrait, the parents seated at the center and their children gathered around them. [119]

Ovsanna sat for a portrait with her son Jamil standing beside her, one hand tucked into his pocket. [120]

Jemile stood for a portrait with her family, the older girls holding hands and young Barkev leaning against his father. [121]

Some years later, the family gathered on the grass in Aleppo. Louder’s son George was there, and Nerses’s grandson Haroutiun. At the center sat Ovsanna and Jemile, encircled by the children. [122]

Before long, the family gathered again at the home of Louder Chamichian in Aleppo. Hanging above them was an enlarged portrait of Jurjy Chamichian—a portrait from a remembered world. [123]

Epilogue

Keepsakes and Remembrance

In 1925, Ovsanna sent her stepdaughter Rosa Chamichian a photograph of herself with her son Jamil, addressing it to “Mrs. Rosa” and inscribing the reverse in Armeno-Turkish: 
Please accept this photograph of your brother and me as a keepsake….
Your mother,
Ovsanna Chamichian

Jamil sent this photograph with the following inscription in Armenian:
“I sent this photograph to your family as a token of love and remembrance.
Jamil Chamichian
20 September 1942
Jerusalem”

Later that year, Jamil sent the same photograph to his uncle, Dr. Louder Chamichian, inscribing it in Armeno-Turkish:

My dear Uncle
Dr. L. Chamichian
A remembrance from me to you.
Jamil Chamichian
Oct. 25 / 1942
Jerusalem. [126]

Acknowledgements

I am deeply grateful to Grace Chavoor, Jack Chavoor, Jason Keledjian, Jeanne Dunkel, Christine Gregory, Andrew Gregory, Kari Payne, Stephen House, Anne Cherchian House, Arpie Cherchian Cort, and all the others in our family who have gathered over the years to share food and stories across generations. Together, they have helped guide this article to its final form. I am especially grateful to Ani Chamichian, Arpi Keledjian, and Henry Keledjian, who joined Grace Chavoor and Jack Chavoor in locating the Chamichian house in Ayntab and making the journey to document it. All are members of the extended Chamichian family by descent or marriage. I also thank Murad Uçaner, whose generosity and historical map research greatly deepened my understanding of the city. I have learned a great deal from his book Hafızasını Kaybeden Kent: Antep (The City That Lost Its Memory: Antep).

Much of what appears in this article comes from the generosity of the Chamichian and Cherchian elders. Agnes Cherchian Ward (Auntie Agnes) and Barkev Cherchian generously shared their memories with me over many years of conversation, including many hours of recorded interviews. Sincere thanks also to Paul Cherchian (Uncle Paul), Ruth Cherchian Gregory (Auntie Ruth), and Helen Cherchian Missirian (Auntie Helen) for years of stories, food, and sourj. I am also grateful to Jamil and Eunice Chamichian (Uncle Jamil and Auntie Yevnigeh) for opening their home to Arpie and me. At the time, I knew little about Ayntab. Looking back, the abundance of fruit in their garden brings to mind the fig orchards, grape vines, and pomegranate trees that appear so often in family memories of Ayntab. I owe a special debt to Annali Chamichian Basmajian, who gave our family a treasure: vivid memories of life in Ayntab in all its richness. As a new member of the family, I was fortunate to visit Auntie Annali, sing with her, and experience a living connection to the world she carried within her. Sue Basmajian and Mihran Basmajian had the foresight to record Annali’s history in 1977, and I thank them for graciously sharing it with me. I likewise thank Lorna Touryan Miller and Donald E. Miller for recording Annali’s testimony in 1984 and making the transcript available to our family.

I am deeply grateful for the generosity and trust of everyone acknowledged here, without which this article would not have been possible. Responsibility for all interpretations and errors remains my own.

Maps

Sources: The city maps of Ayntab in this article are adapted primarily from the map of Ayntab in Kevork A. Sarafian, Պատմութիւն Անթէպի Հայոց (Boston, 1953; Antelias reprint edition, 2013), prepared by G. H. Barsoumian and drawn by Garabed H. Nazarian (Aleppo, June 1952), supplemented where noted by local historical research and contemporary photographs.

Regional maps showing routes and surrounding villages are adapted from Karte von Mesopotamien und Syrien, sheet 1b (Aleppo), prepared by the Cartographic Department of the Royal Prussian Survey (Kgl. Preuß. Landesaufnahme), May 1918, scale 1:400,000, Princeton University Library (HMC01.4206).

Markets and Hans near the Chamichian House, ca. 1910

“A lot of our goods came from our villages, but still we had to buy things from the stores.”

Less than two blocks from the Chamichian house stood Ağamın Kabaltı, a covered intersection lined with merchants’ stalls (its location is based on Murad Uçaner’s research). The nearby district of Balıklıgan, formally known as Balıklı Çarşısı (“Fish Market”), took its name from a spring-fed pool where fish once swam. Nearby were the Arasa, the Buğday (Wheat) Bazaar, the Copper Bazaar, the Almacı Bazaar, and several of the city’s principal hans (warehouse inns), including Kara Nazar Han, Millet Han, and Şire Han. Together these markets and hans formed the commercial heart of Ayntab. The location labeled “Early Morning Bazaar” comes from a Franklin W. Peers photograph captioned, “The early morning bazaar. Piles of red peppers in an unrivaled riot of color.”

Churches of Ayntab, ca. 1910

“You and I, along those Turkish blocks. Early in the morning to church it does something, you know.”

The Chamichian house stood a short walk from all of Ayntab’s churches, including the three Protestant churches—Kayajik Church (First Protestant Church), Hayik Church (Second Protestant Church), and Alay Bayi Church (Third Protestant Church)—as well as the YMCA. These churches were also known as Evangelical or Congregational churches. Alay Bayi Church was the only one located east of the Transversal. The Apostolic Church (St. Mary’s Cathedral, Սուրբ Աստուածածին Sourp Asdvadzadzin) was one of the city’s most prominent landmarks, its gold-plated cross visible across Ayntab. The map also marks the location of a khachkar, or Armenian cross-stone.

Probable Route of Annali Chamichian and Her Family from Ayntab to Akçakoyunlu, Winter 1916.

“We rented donkeys on which we placed our bedding. We walked by day and slept at night in the open. We went over the mountains. We went this way until we reached the station where they placed us on the train.”

This map reconstructs the probable first stage of the deportation journey of Annali Chamichian, her siblings, and the family of her uncle Nerses Chamichian after their expulsion from Ayntab in February 1916. Raymond Kévorkian notes that, apart from the first two deportation groups, which likely departed by the western road, “all the Armenians deported from Ayntab were sent toward the Akçakoyun railroad station.” Sarafian’s map labels the southeastern road out of the city as Դէպի Ագչէ Գօյունլու (“Toward Akçakoyunlu”), supporting the route shown here. In some areas, the route remains uncertain. Highlighted locations include known convoy stopping points such as Sazgın (labeled “Sarin”), likely the site of the deportees’ first overnight stop, and the railway transit camp at Akçakoyunlu (labeled “Aktsche K.” on the map). Contemporary accounts describe attacks planned against deportation convoys near Sazgın and identify nearby villages whose inhabitants participated in assaults on Armenians, including Tilbaşar (labeled “Tell Bâschar”), Mezra (labeled “Mezra’asy”), and Kantara. The local road network—including an additional road shown on another contemporary map connecting Kantara to Akçakoyunlu—helps explain how armed groups from these villages could quickly reach and intercept deportation columns. 

Sources: Raymond Kévorkian, The Armenian Genocide: A Complete History (London: I.B. Tauris, 2011), 944; Ümit Kurt, The Armenians of Ayntab: The Economics of Genocide in an Ottoman Province (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2021), 94–95.

Mule Cart Convoy. Night of 25–26 May 1920, Ayntab to Ulu Mezre.

“It rained all night.”

The refugees left after dark on 25 May 1920 as part of the French-organized evacuation of Armenians from Ayntab and traveled through rain and red mud before reaching Ulu Mezre the following morning.

Sources: Ray Travis diary, 26 May 1920; Agnes Cherchian Ward interviews with David Louis Cort, 2001–2003; Maurice Abadie, Les quatre sièges d’Aïntab (1920–1921).

Mule Cart Convoy. Night of 26–27 May 1920, Ulu Mezre to Kilis.

“Next morning, everything that was left on the floor, soaking in mud.”

After resting at Ulu Mezre during the day, the refugees set out again that evening and traveled through the night toward Kilis. Telegraph poles followed the road into the city. According to Ray Travis, a Turkish cavalry attack struck the rear of the convoy about 1.5 km outside Kilis. On the map, this corresponds to the final stream crossing before the city.

Mule Cart Convoy. Day and Evening, 27 May 1920, Kilis to Qatma Railway Station.

“We stayed in those carriages three nights and three days.”

After leaving Kilis, about forty to fifty families continued south, passing Azaz under the late-May sun. After crossing the Baghdad Railway, they turned northwest toward Qatma. That night they reached Qatma Railway Station and boarded flatcars for the journey to Aleppo.

Mule Cart Convoy. Day, 28 May 1920, Qatma Railway Station to Aleppo.

“That’s the beginning of Aleppo.”

After spending the night on flatcars at Qatma Railway Station, the refugees traveled south by rail to Aleppo. At the station, Agnes spotted her Aunt Rosa in the crowd. Rosa led the family to the house Hovsep had rented for them, “six windows and a door.”

  • [1] This study concerns the family of Jurjy Chamichian of Ayntab’s Hayik Church. Other Chamichian families also lived in Ayntab, though their relationship to this family remains unclear. Among the better-known members of another Chamichian family was Armenag Chamichian, a teacher at the Vartanian Secondary School and later principal of the Cilicia Institute.
  • [2] Houshamadyan, “ODA | Americas | Wistar Archive – USA,” accessed 8 May 2026, photograph caption noting that work on the dome of the Apostolic Church (St. Mary's Cathedral, Sourp Asdvadzadzin) began in 1893. Maurice Abadie, Opérations au Levant: Les Quatre Sièges d’Aïntab (1920–1921) (Paris: Charles-Lavauzelle et Compagnie, 1922), 19, Gallica, Bibliothèque nationale de France, https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k3393758b, describing the American hospital as having distinctive red-tiled roofs. “Trades and Photographers in Ayntab,” Houshamadyan, accessed 7 May 2026, noting that the Halladjian family belonged to Ayntab’s Armenian Evangelical community, that Hovhannes Halladjian learned photography in 1883–1884, returned to Ayntab in 1884, and for the next decade was the city’s only photographer. For the location of the photography studio, see Murad Uçaner’s unpublished historical map of Ayntab, shared with the author.
  • [3] The title Maqdesi, signifying that Nerses had completed a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, appears in family genealogies preserved by members of the extended Chamichian family, including Barkev Cherchian (grandson of Yacoub Chamichian) and Albert Papazian (son of Rahel Chamichian). George Chamichian Haig, in a letter to Barkev Cherchian dated 28 January 1975, recalled that his great-grandfather Nerses was among the first Armenians “to become Protestant in 1853” in Ayntab. American Board missionary Benjamin Schneider, in his report written at Ayntab in May 1853, noted that the Protestant church had grown to 700 members, with 38 added during the year. If George Haig’s dating is correct, Nerses—and perhaps other members of his family—may have been among those new members. Benjamin Schneider, “Report, Ayntab Station, May 1853,” American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, May 1853, 4, SALT Research, Identifier ABA001701366, https://archives.saltresearch.org/handle/123456789/44346. Kevork A. Sarafian describes Bishop Mesrob’s encouragement of Gospel reading and his permission to import Armeno-Turkish Gospels into Ayntab (18–19); the arrival of Bishop Mgrdich Shahanian in 1853 and his later departure from the Armenian Apostolic Church to found the Anglican church in Ayntab (19); the founding and early growth of the Protestant congregation from 1848 onward and its worship in private homes (46–47); and the dedication of the First Protestant Church in 1855, the calling of Reverend Kara Krikor Haroutiunian in 1856, and the founding of the Second Protestant (Hayik) Church in 1865 (47–48). Kevork A. Sarafian, A Briefer History of Ayntab (Boston: Union of the Armenians of Ayntab, 1957), HathiTrust Digital Library. 
  • [4] The family’s remembered origins in Urmia and Isfahan fit within a broader history of Armenian pilgrimage from Persia to Jerusalem. Ayntab, as a major town in Cilicia on the overland route between Persia and Jerusalem, would likely have been an important stop for Armenian pilgrims.
    Beginning in the early seventeenth century, the Armenian Patriarch of Jerusalem, Գրիգոր Պարոն-Տեր Krikor Baron-Der, transformed the Jerusalem pilgrimage into an officially organized institution. Official “summoners” recruited pilgrims from Armenian communities to join caravans bound for Jerusalem. Way stations for pilgrims were established along these routes leading from Persia through the Ottoman Empire to Jerusalem. See Nir Shafir, “In an Ottoman Holy Land: The Hajj and the Road from Damascus, 1500–1800.”
    Sarafian preserves traditions of Persian Armenian pilgrims stopping in Ayntab as early as 1700, including one who abandoned his pilgrimage to obtain permission to rebuild the Armenian church and three brothers who likewise abandoned their journey to enlarge the cemetery. Sarafian, Briefer History, 13. He also records the historical example of Murad Varjabedian, who interrupted a pilgrimage to Jerusalem in 1844 and remained in Ayntab to establish one of its earliest schools. Sarafian, Briefer History, 42.
    Just as a Muslim who completed the hajj became known as a Haji, an Armenian pilgrim returning from Jerusalem received the title Maqdesi (from al-Maqdis, Jerusalem). The title appears among prominent members of Ayntab's Armenian community. Among the sponsors of the opening of Ayntab’s rebuilt Armenian Apostolic church in 1876 were Mahdesi Adour Yaghoubian, Mahdesi Nerses Balian, and Mahdesi Sarkis Usda Ghadehdjian. Ani Voskanyan, “Ayntab – Churches (Part I): The Armenian Apostolic Church,” Houshamadyan.
    Barkev Cherchian’s family tree identifies the family’s earliest known ancestor as “NERSES (HAJI) CHAMICHIAN ՆԷՐՍԷՍ (ՄԳՏՍԻ) [Mqdsi] ՉԱՄԻՉԵԱՆ,” glossing the Armenian title Maqdesi with the English “Haji.” Albert Papazian’s family tree identifies him as “MAKDESI NERSES of AINTAB.”
  • [5] In his letter to Barkev Cherchian, George Chamichian Haig recounts an earlier family tradition identifying Urmia in Persia as the place of origin: “As for the name Chamichian, I was told, long time ago that Chamichian family originally came from Urmia district of Persian Armenia—But I have located Chamichian names in Istanbul….” Ani Chamichian, personal communication in response to the author’s inquiry regarding family origins, recalled her father Jamil Chamichian’s account that the family originated in Isfahan and brought pistachio saplings with them. Annali Chamichian Basmajian, interview by Lorna Touryan Miller, 2 March 1984, unpublished transcript in possession of the author, identified the family’s origin simply as “Iran”; she refers to this figure as her “grandfather,” which would be Jurjy Chamichian. 
    Several family accounts also refer to a Turkish publication mentioning an Ottoman official named Ohannes Chamichian. Eunice Chamichian, “Origin of Chamichians,” unpublished family history, courtesy of Jason Keledjian, in possession of the author, writes: “According to a Turkish book written by a Turkish senator in 1968, one Ohannes Chamichian from Urmia Persia, a notable official,” was “assigned to the second in rank in the Ottoman government in Constantinople in the Treasury Dept. (Maybe Dairesi). He was assigned to Ayntab in or about 1750. He liked the city well and settled there.” Dairesi is Ottoman Turkish for “department” or “bureau.” George Chamichian Haig also refers to this publication, recalling that “Recently a Turkish Senator wrote a derogatory book about the Armenians and he mentions the name of a Chamichian as a high-ranking Ottoman official…,” adding that “most probably he came to Ayntab from Istanbul with governmental connection.”
  • [6] Agnes Cherchian Ward, interview by David Louis Cort, Glendale, CA, June 2002, recalling that Nerses came to Ayntab in order to purchase land: “Purchase, purchase, purchase, purchase.” See also Chamichian Haig letter: “As far as I know, Chamichians were the first large land owners in Ayntab—I mean land, outside the city”; and Annali Basmajian interview, 1984, regarding Jurjy Chamichian: “He had a lot of property and land…. He had business with the villagers around.” Agnes Cherchian Ward likewise recalled that “He had seven vineyards, each with a different type of grape.” She also recalled that her great-great-grandfather Nerses was known as “Fistik Padishahi, the Pistachio King” (Ward interview, June 2002). Chamichian Haig also recalled that his great-grandfather “was called Fistik Padishahi.” Sarafian notes that the fertile valleys around Ayntab “produced all kinds of luscious grapes, walnuts, and other nuts, especially pistachio nuts, Fisdik which was a source of wealth for many” (Briefer History, 10).
  • [7] Jurjy Chamichian appears among the lay leaders in a group photograph of the Hayik (Second Protestant) Church with Reverend M. G. Papazian in Kevork A. Sarafian, Պատմութիւն Անթէպի Հայոց, 3 vols. (Boston, 1953; reprint, Antelias: Cilicia Catholicosate Press, 2013), 3:509. For the location of the Chamichian house in the Turkish Quarter of Ayntab, see Grace Chavoor, personal communication to the author; and Murad Uçaner’s unpublished historical map of Ayntab, shared with the author. Annali Basmajian likewise recalled that she lived with her siblings and Uncle Nerses’s family in a large house, while also describing visits from her grandmother, suggesting that the extended family maintained more than one residence (Basmajian interview, 1984).
  • [8] Agnes Cherchian Ward, interviews by David Louis Cort, Glendale, CA: December 2001 (pistachio harvest caravans) and June 2002 (family lands and orchards; dinners for neighborhood pashas and valuable ring). Unless otherwise indicated, Agnes Cherchian Ward’s recollections combine her own childhood memories with stories shared within the family, especially by her mother, Jemile Chamichian Cherchian. Speaking of her grandfather Jurjy, Agnes recalled: “Pasha is a great man in the clan. I don’t know how do they say…. Anyway, he was a respectable man. When he gave a dinner they would butcher four, five sheep, you know. And a big yard, one part is like the kitchen. They boil them, cook them, broil them, whatever. And they set big tables for all the neighborhood. Pashas like him. To come and enjoy dinner. And there was a ring that one of these pashas gave to my great-grandpa. Big green ring. Stone, you know, I don’t know what. It was gold, but a stone that was very, very valuable. Precious stones.”
  • [9] The available evidence suggests that Jurjy Chamichian was likely born in the later 1840s, perhaps around 1848–1850. George Chamichian Haig recalled that Jurjy died at age sixty-five (Chamichian Haig letter), while Albert Papazian records his dates as 1850–1914 (Albert Papazian, Chamichian Family Tree, handwritten genealogical chart, 1980, in possession of the author). Odette Babikian also recalled that Jurjy was urged by his father to marry early and have a child soon afterward (Odette Babikian, oral communication to Jason Keledjian, ca. 2010, notes in possession of the author).
    Yacoub Chamichian was likely born between about 1866 and 1869. He was already married and had a child by 1888. Taken together, the evidence suggests that Jurjy and Anna Deukmejian married by the mid-to-late 1860s and that Yacoub was born soon afterward. An 1884 family photograph, in which Yacoub appears to be a young man, is consistent with this chronology.
    A separate family recollection suggests that Jurjy’s father, Maqdesi Nerses, may have been approximately sixty years old at the time of Jurjy’s birth, which, if accurate, could place Nerses’s birth in the 1790s (Babikian, oral communication).
  • [10] Anitza’s husband was Hagop Deukmejian. In addition to the Deukmejians, other families connected by marriage to the children of Jurjy and Anna Chamichian included the Bulbulian, Markarian, Nazarian, Aposhian, Baradjiklian, Guezenian, Vasoian, and Papazian families. Jurjy and Anna’s daughter Rahel married Moses Papazian, and the Papazian house stood only blocks from both the Chamichian and Deukmejian houses. Because Armenian Protestants were a minority and relatively few Armenians lived in this part of the city, families such as these would naturally have known one another well through both neighborhood ties and church life.
    The location of the Papazian house is based on Murad Uçaner’s unpublished map of Ayntab. Moses Papazian is also listed among the merchants of the Millet Han and identified by Sarafian as one of only three occupants designated “Protestant” (Բողոքական), alongside twenty-one listed as “Apostolic” (Լուսաւորչական), making it more likely that he is the same Moses Papazian who married into the Chamichian family. Sarafian, Պատմութիւն Անթէպի Հայոց, 3:311. Reverend M. G. Papazian served as pastor of the Hayik Church, though the exact relationship between M. G. Papazian and Moses Papazian has not yet been documented. 
  • [11] Eunice Chamichian, “Origin of Chamichians.” Eunice relates that when Jurjy’s first son, Yacoub, was born, Nerses Chamichian “sent a man immediately to the village called Orul to plant olive trees in a 200 acre land as a birthday present to his grandson Yacoub.” Orul (modern Sekili) is approximately 31 km southeast of Ayntab.
  • [12] Sarafian, Briefer History, 184 (describing the “regular costume for men”); 186: “By common people, trousers were called ‘tchatal aghaj’ (a forked tree), or ‘setrak pantalon.’”
  • [13] Sarafian, Briefer History, 186, on the adoption of Western dress among educated and wealthy men in Ayntab and the custom of seating men wearing trousers on benches along the walls of the church rather than on the carpeted floor.
  • [14] The inscription appears to read ا ل كاتب ياخوب چامچيان (al-kātib Yākhūb, “The writer, Yacoub”), or possibly ا ل كاتب ياقوب (al-kātib Yāqūb), depending on the reading of one indistinct letter. Although several letters of the surname are indistinct, the visible letter sequence چا ــــ ن is consistent with a reading of Chamichian.
    Yacoub’s Ottoman inscription suggests that, like his younger brother Louder, he probably attended the Preparatory Department at Central Turkey College, where Osmanlı Turkish was one of the principal subjects, receiving five or six recitations each week. As early as the Seventh Form (roughly equivalent to the tenth grade), students were engaged in intensive study of the formal written language. The curriculum included Mesâlik-i Edebiyyât-ı Osmaniyye (“Principles of Ottoman Literature”), Ṣarf-ı Osmanî (Mutavvel), an expanded Ottoman grammar text, and Mihri’s Usûl-i Kitâbet (“Principles of Writing”), which emphasized penmanship and composition. Students also became familiar with the Persian and Arabic vocabulary and grammatical constructions that characterized literary Ottoman. According to the 1880 and 1901 Central Turkey College catalogs, instruction continued throughout the preparatory years, progressing from grammar, composition, and translation to increasingly advanced literary study. Students who entered the College Department went on to draft legal and other official documents, preparing them for professional life in the late Ottoman Empire. Central Turkey College, Catalogue of the Central Turkey College at Aintab, Vilayet of Aleppo, Turkey in Asia, 1880–81, 11–13; Catalogue of the Central Turkey College at Aintab, Vilayet of Aleppo, Turkey in Asia (Constantinople: Press of H. Matteosian, Bible House, 1901), 25–26.
  • [15] Sarafian, Briefer History, 185: “The way the fez was worn on the head was more or less indicative of the character or position of the person. Most serious people, such as professors, pastors or those converted from a worldly life into a spiritual life, wore it straight right in front, continuous with the forehead. Those who wanted to be coquettish wore it to one side and forward, the tassel hanging in front. Most students wore on the crown of their heads a little of the hair or a bang or frill (kenkl) showing in front. While the ‘kabadayi,’ the real worldly class, wore it right at the back, the tassel dangling in the air.” Kenkl may represent Turkish kâkül, meaning a forelock or fringe of hair. Kabadayı was an Ottoman Turkish term for a swaggering neighborhood tough guy.
  • [16] Ward interview, June 2002.
  • [17] Haiganoush Markarian was born in 1870 (Barkev Cherchian family tree manuscript), in Aleppo, when her father was serving there as a minister (Chamichian Haig letter). She would have grown up in the congregation of Ayntab’s Third Evangelical (Alay Beyi) Church, where her father served as founding pastor from 1878 to 1893. The church itself was formally organized in 1879. Originally from Adana, Reverend Garabed Markarian was a graduate of the Marash Theological Seminary and was described by Sarafian as “a highly educated and eloquent preacher.” He also taught history at Central Turkey College from 1881 to 1887. Haiganoush’s son George Haig later referred to him as “My maternal grandfather, Badveli Garabed Markarian” and wrote: “My father had six children – Five from Haiganoish Markarian (daughter of Badveli Garabed Markarian) My mother was born in Aleppo when her father was a minister in Haleb – Badveli Markarian was from Adana.” Barkev Cherchian, unpublished family tree manuscript, in possession of the author; Sarafian, Briefer History, 50, 60; Chamichian Haig letter.
  • [18] Family members pronounced the name Jemile as “Jeh-MEEL-eh” (Western Armenian: Ճէմիլէ). The author recalls being corrected by older relatives when he pronounced it “Ja-MEE-lah,” the Arabic pronunciation of her name.
  • [19] Ani Voskanyan, “Ayntab – Schools (Part 4): Armenian Evangelical Schools,” Houshamadyan, accessed 7 May 2026.
  • [20] Sarafian, Briefer History, 2.
  • [21] Basmajian interview, 1984.
  • [22] Mihran Minassian, “Ayntab – The Periodical Press,” Houshamadyan, accessed 7 May 2026.
  • [23] Voskanyan, “Ayntab – Schools (Part 4): Armenian Evangelical Schools,” noting that Armenian Evangelical schools replaced Armenian-lettered Turkish textbooks with Armenian textbooks in the 1890s. This shift was not universal, however. Central Turkey College (the American College), which served a broader student body, retained Turkish as its official language. The 1906 catalogue and 1910 bulletin state that “the official language of the college is Turkish” and indicate that instruction in most subjects was conducted in Turkish, with Armenian and English used only in limited contexts. General Catalogue of Central Turkey College, Ayntab, Turkey-in-Asia (1906), 24; Bulletin of Central Turkey College at Ayntab, Turkey-in-Asia (1910), 27.
  • [24] Barkev Cherchian recalled that his father, Hovsep Cherchian, worked as a Bible salesman in Aleppo during the 1920s and sold Bibles in what he described as “Armenian character Turkish.” “They call it Armeno-Turkish,” he explained (Barkev Cherchian, interview by David Louis Cort, Glendale, CA, 1996).
    The Armeno-Turkish Bibles remembered by Barkev formed part of a larger body of Protestant literature printed in Armenian script and widely used among Ottoman Armenian Protestants. See İlahiler (Constantinople: H. Madteosian Press, 1923), an Armeno-Turkish Protestant hymnal preserved in the ARIT / SALT Research Armeno-Turkish Editions of Books collection. Although published after the war, it reflects the kinds of materials used in Armenian Evangelical congregations. The contents reveal the distinctly Protestant concerns of the community, with hymns devoted to the Bible (Kitab-ı Mukaddes), fellowship with Jesus (İsa ile müşareket), personal faith (Müminin ahvali), and repentance (Tevbe). Other sections address Sunday School, baptism, the Lord’s Supper, and the life of the church. The table of contents preserves occasional Armenian terms: the section devoted to Jesus Christ is titled Hisous Krisdos (Յիսուս Քրիստոս) rather than the Turkish İsa Mesih, while Giragi mektebine mahsus (“For the Sunday School”) combines the Armenian word for Sunday (Giragi) with a Turkish phrase.
  • [25] Basmajian interview, 1984.
  • [26] Voskanyan, “Ayntab – Schools (Part 4): Armenian Evangelical Schools.”
  • [27] Annali Chamichian Basmajian’s 1984 interview with Lorna Touryan Miller recalls that Jemile taught “in the orphanage,” while an earlier recorded interview conducted in 1977 by Mihran Basmajian and Sue Basmajian refers more generally to teaching “in the school.” Annali’s birth year is given as 1898 in Donald E. Miller and Lorna Touryan Miller,Survivors: An Oral History of the Armenian Genocide (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993), 206, making it likely that her older sister Jemile had completed school and begun teaching by the time Annali and her younger brother George were still in the elementary grades. The most natural reading is that Jemile taught in a school attached to one of Ayntab’s orphanages. Ayntab contained several orphanages during the late Ottoman period, including the Halladjian Orphanage, founded in 1876 by Rev. Haroutiun Halladjian, and the Frearson Orphanage, founded in 1897 by Miss Frearson. Annali Chamichian Basmajian, interview by Mihran Basmajian and Sue Basmajian, 1977, transcript by David Louis Cort from an audio recording provided by Sue Basmajian, in possession of the author; Sarafian, Briefer History, 57–59.
  • [28] Chavoor communication; Uçaner map.
  • [29] Basmajian interview, 1984. This passage suggests that the Chamichians maintained multiple residences. Such arrangements do not appear to have been unusual among affluent Armenian families in Ayntab. Ümit Kurt’s map of Armenian-owned houses in Kayacık shows numerous examples of related households occupying adjacent properties, while Murad Uçaner’s unpublished map research suggests similar patterns in Kozanlı (Soğanlı Bucağı). Ümit Kurt, The Armenians of Ayntab: The Economics of Genocide in an Ottoman Province (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2021), xvi–xvii; Uçaner map; Murad Uçaner, personal communication to the author.
  • [30] Annali’s recollections describe a world in which Armenians and Turks sometimes shared social circles and personal relationships. “We lived in a mixed neighborhood,” she recalled, “on the street where the ‘Beys’ lived, the rich people,” including both Armenians and Turks. Speaking of the wealthy women of the neighborhood, she remembered they “used [to] go visiting to each other’s home. They all lived in beautiful homes and took turns going around,” adding that “some of them were Turks.” At her uncle’s wedding, while most of the guests were Armenian, there were also Turkish guests: “a neighbor or two.” Turkish workers employed on the family’s farms sometimes stayed overnight in the Chamichian home when returning from the countryside. One of these workers, a “very nice man” known as “Belle Effendi,” “used to spend a lot of time talking with my grandfather.”
    At the same time, she spoke of the unequal and often precarious position of Armenians, noting that “the Turks ruled and the Armenians lived in separate quarters.” Recalling the death of her grandfather Jurjy, she explained: “Because my grandfather was wealthy and owned some mules which he used to have trained, the government wanted them. They frightened him and insisted on taking them. He came home very upset and frightened and while talking to my uncle, he had a heart attack and died. We were very scared of the Turks. When they got angry they used to scare us with guns. We used to just shake sometimes when we saw them…. Whenever there were uprisings, the Turks used to come and sit in front of our house, so that when the orders came, they would come in and rob us. In front of our eyes, they used to scare us.” Annali’s memories suggest that in her world, Armenians and Turks interacted as neighbors, visitors, and friends, yet Armenians remained conscious of their vulnerable position and never entirely escaped the fear of violence. Basmajian interview, 1984.
  • [31] Ward interview, June 2002.
  • [32] Sarafian, Briefer History, 189: “The houses of Aintab followed the oriental style of a row of rooms around a central, open courtyard. Quite often near relatives lived in the same yard, each family occupying one room or a unit. Two story houses were also common. In such houses, the first floor was used as a cellar or store-room. The kitchen and the toilets, which were shared by all the families, were always at the farther end of the yard…. A unit occupied by each family consisted mainly of a living room, a large pantry, khazna, and a cellar, kilar or bodouroum.”
  • [33] Barkev Cherchian later recalled that the yard at the Cherchian home in Ayntab, where Jemile conducted an improvised wartime school during the First World War, “was not paved,” but had a dirt floor where children marched while she sang to keep rhythm. The contrast may reflect the difference between the relatively prosperous Chamichian family into which Jemile was born and the more modest Cherchian household she later entered through marriage. Barkev Cherchian, interview by David Louis Cort, Glendale, CA, 1997.
  • [34] Basmajian interview, 1977.
  • [35] Andrew Gregory, personal communication to the author, December 2024, recalling dishes his mother, Ruth Cherchian Gregory, learned from her mother Jemile. Ruth’s daughter Christine Gregory, personal communication to the author, June 2026, confirmed these recollections. The family nickname “bammer” for bamya was recalled by Arpie Cherchian Cort and Anne Cherchian House, personal communications to the author, June 2026.
  • [36] Ward interview, June 2002. 
  • [37] Basmajian interview, 1984.Basterma is cured beef, while yershig is the Armenian name for soujoukh, a spiced cured sausage. Barkev Cherchian recalled that Ayntab was known for its basterma and soujoukh, while Agnes Cherchian Ward later remembered soujoukh—in this case, a type of sweet (sharots, rojig)—as one of the treats children received at New Year’s. Barkev interview, 1997; Ward, personal communication to the author, ca. 1998.
  • [38] Agnes Cherchian Ward, interview by David Louis Cort, Glendale, CA, June 2003.
  • [39] Ward interview, June 2002.
  • [40] Basmajian interview, 1984.
  • [41] The location described here follows a correction proposed by Murad Uçaner, based on interviews with longtime residents and descendants familiar with the area, placing the Ağamın Kabaltı one block farther east than on the map of Ayntab in Kevork A. Sarafian, Պատմութիւն Անթէպի Հայոց (Boston, 1953; reprint, Antelias: Cilicia Catholicosate Press, 2013), map prepared by G. H. Barsoumian and drawn by Garabed H. Nazarian (Aleppo, June 1952). Uçaner communication.
    Simonian’s 1883 map depicts the Uzun Çarşı (Long Market) with continuous shading from the vicinity of the Citadel to the Arasa, suggesting the overhead coverings that sheltered much of the market street. Nigoghos Simonian, Ayntab, map, 1883, Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin, https://resolver.staatsbibliothek-berlin.de/SBB0003497200000000.
  • [42] Basmajian interview, 1984.
  • [43] İbrahim Alisinanoğlu, “Tufa (Tuffa) Hamamı,” Gaziantep Miş Miş Facebook group, 1 September 2019, accessed 8 June 2026, noting that the bath was frequented jointly by Muslim and non-Muslim residents in the late Ottoman period. See also Tülay Karadayı Yenice and Meltem Ararat, “Turkish Bath Tradition: The Example of Gaziantep, Turkey,” International Journal of Intangible Heritage 17 (2022): 197–210, which identifies Keyvanbey and Hüseyin Pasha baths as generally used by non-Muslims in Gaziantep.
  • [44] Sarafian, Briefer History, 180–83.
  • [45] Basmajian interview, 1977.
  • [46] George Chamichian Haig later described the Hayik Church as a large stone sanctuary with galleries, a high dome, a red marble pulpit, deep crimson velvet upholstery on the pastor’s platform, and a wall clock donated by students of Yale Divinity School. Surviving photographs of the church interior before and after its destruction preserve the raised platform, scalloped backdrop, railing, and clock described in his account. He also described scripture reading, prayer, congregational singing accompanied by an organ, sermons, and a benediction as regular features of worship. According to his recollections, regular services began at three o’clock in the afternoon, although Annali also remembered predawn services on Christmas and Easter mornings. Alice Shepard Riggs, describing a 1907 jubilee service at the church, recalled a “little cabinet organ,” along with worshippers seated separately by gender on a carpeted floor divided by a railing, while ushers maintained the aisle amid “a sea of red fezes” and “black silk charchafs or street veils” beneath the galleries. George E. Haig [George Chamichian Haig], “The Last Service,” Ararat (Summer 1980): 9, https://fliphtml5.com/fqpe/qipr/Ararat_1980_Quarter_3/; Basmajian interview, 1977; Alice Shepard Riggs, Shepard of Ayntab (New York: Interchurch Press, 1920), xiv, HathiTrust Digital Library, https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc2.ark:/13960/t3cz36b8n.
  • [47] Basmajian interview, 1984.
  • [48] Basmajian interview, 1984.
  • [49] Basmajian interview, 1977.
  • [50] Sarafian, Briefer History, 192–94. Barkev Cherchian labeled the feature “TONIR թոնիր” in a diagram of a traditional Ayntab house drawn for the author in Glendale, California, in 2003. Sarafian includes the terms “tandur or tonir, or kursi.”
  • [51] Sarafian observed that when the legs and feet of half a dozen or more people gathered beneath the same quilt, “friendly contact of feet” was likely, especially if “the neighbor’s pretty daughter happened to be sitting in the tandur.” As he remarked, “who could prove if these contacts were intentional or accidental?” Sarafian, Briefer History, 194. 
  • [52] Khoja stories, humorous tales associated with Nasreddin Khoja, remained part of family life long after the family’s arrival in the United States. In the 1980s, Jemile’s children—Agnes, Barkev, Paul, and Helen—would still gather around the “Armenian table,” telling stories about Nasreddin Khoja and Khelok Tavit in Armenian while younger generations sat by the pool speaking English. One family favorite was “Khoja and the Pot,” in which Khoja persuades his neighbor that a borrowed pot first gives birth and later dies (Author’s recollection of family gatherings, 1980s–1990s).
    Barkev Cherchian later recalled eating spicy walnut jam around the tonir during winter evenings in Aleppo. In one childhood memory, eager to imitate the adults, he swallowed an entire walnut whole and nearly choked (Barkev Cherchian, personal communication to the author, Los Angeles, CA, 1998).
    Chamichian descendants still prepare coffee in the jezveh by allowing it to rise three times before serving. “They say that’s well done,” Helen used to say. They remain careful to place a dollop of coffee foam in each cup (Helen Cherchian Missirian, personal communication to the author, Los Angeles, CA, 2003).
  • [53] Ward, personal communication to the author, ca. 1998. “Gaghandos! Bastuk, sejuk, verinler!” may be translated approximately as: “New Year! Bastuk and sejuk—give us!” The surviving fragment reflects the mixture of Armenian and Turkish found in everyday speech in Ayntab. Gaghandos comes from the Armenian word Gaghant (Կաղանդ), meaning New Year’s Day. Bastuk refers to thin sheets of grape fruit leather (known as pestil in Turkish), while sejuk is the family’s term for soujoukh, which in this case also refers to a type of sweet (sharots, rojig).
  • [54] Basmajian interview, 1984.
  • [55] Basmajian interview, 1977.
  • [56] Basmajian interview, 1984.
  • [57] Barkev Cherchian, personal communication to the author, ca. 2005, describing the three-day Easter observance in Ayntab and recalling that families snacked on leblebu (sweetened roasted chickpeas) and nuts along the way. Sarafian notes that the second day of Easter (Merelotz) was set aside for visiting the cemetery, while the third day of Easter was one of the traditional feast days for picnics. Elsewhere he describes family picnics at Kavaklık, where they carried “bread, kiahke and cheese,” ate beside the brook, and gathered chamomile growing along the water. Sarafian, Briefer History, 209. According to Arpie Cherchian Cort, Sarafian’s kiahke corresponds to the family term kakhge, used as an alternate name for choreg. She likewise recalled that her mother gathered chamomile, known in the family as babunej, to make tea. Personal communication to the author, June 2026.
  • [58] The locations and routes described in this section are based on the Barsoumian–Nazarian map of Ayntab. Murad Uçaner notes that the district formally known as Balıklı Çarşısı (“Fish Market”) was commonly called Balıklıgan in the local dialect. The name derived from a spring-fed pool where fish once swam; the road through the district was known as Balıklıgan Yolu (“Fish Market Road”). Murad Uçaner, Hafızasını Kaybeden Kent: Antep (“The City That Lost Its Memory: Antep”) (Ankara: Dipnot Yayınları, 2021), 114–116.
  • [59] Sarafian offers this description of Kavaklık: “Kavakluk, a very cool and shady place with a stream zigzagging through and islands of spacious verdure on both sides of it, provided an ideal spot for such picnics. For the children it was the nearest thing to paradise. For pure unadulterated enjoyment of nature and the exhilarating morning air of spring, many family groups would wake up long before sunrise, pack up some bread, kiahke and cheese and walk to Kavakluk, a distance of about two miles. There they would sit on the dew-sprinkled grass, eat their sandwiches, sniffing the crisp air and listening to the rippling of the brook and the twittering of birds in the trees. Then they would pick wild yellow roses or aromatic camomile branches growing along the water and walk back home in time for work or school.” Sarafian, Briefer History, 209.
  • [60] Basmajian interview, 1984. Jajekh is a yogurt-and-mint dip.
  • [61] Ward interview, June 2003. Agnes recalled that “Munevver Auntie was there” when relatives visited the prospective bride’s home. “Grandma” in the account refers to Hrome Bulbulian Cherchian. Although the exact relationship between Hrome Bulbulian Cherchian and the family of Reverend Hagop Bulbulian and Ovsanna Bulbulian is uncertain, all appear to have belonged to the relatively small Armenian Protestant community of Ayntab.
  • [62] Sarafian, Briefer History, 201–03, 212. The formal engagement ceremony was known as khosk gab (“word binding”), during which the two families publicly confirmed the marriage agreement. Following the official engagement, the Chamichians likely hosted an engagement celebration with trays of pakhlava, and the Cherchians likely presented Jemile with the customary engagement gift, known as sini duzme, a large sugar loaf draped with a necklace of gold coins for the bride and surrounded by rows of apples, oranges, and sweets decorated with silver paper. Rev. Bedros Topalian succeeded Rev. Manasseh Papazian as pastor of the Hayik (Second Evangelical) Church in 1907 and served until his resignation in 1910. If Jemile and Hovsep became engaged in 1910, he was likely present at the official engagement to give the church’s sanction.
  • [63] Basmajian interview, 1984. Sarafian notes that in Ayntab the newly married couple slept in the khazna, a storage room reached by a short flight of steps from the living room. Foods such as raisins, figs, and pakhlava, as well as the mother’s bridal chest, were stored here. Since family members commonly slept together in the main living room on bedding spread out at night, the khazna was the only private space in the house. Sarafian notes that newly married couples spent their “honeymoon” there and used it as their sleeping quarters until the birth of their first child. Sarafian, Briefer History, 190.
  • [64] Agnes Cherchian Ward later recalled asking her mother why she had been given the name Haiganoush: “I said, ‘Why did you call me Haiganoush?’ Mom said, ‘Well, I thought every time I called you I would remember my mother.’” Agnes is the English form of Haiganoush. Agnes Cherchian Ward, interview by David Louis Cort, Los Angeles, CA, 1998.
    Annali recalled, “My mother died while giving birth to the sixth one. She was 37 when she died with the baby and I was about 10 years old.” Since Annali was born in 1898, her recollection places Haiganoush's death around 1908. This chronology also suggests a birth year around 1870, consistent with Barkev Cherchian's family tree, and would make Haiganoush about eighteen when her first child, Jemile, was born in 1888. Basmajian interview, 1984.
  • [65] Basmajian interview, 1984.
  • [66] Reverend Hagop Bulbulian (1859–1912) was a graduate of Central Turkey College and Andover Theological Seminary. He served as executive secretary of the YMCA’s Niziblian Tankaran and as pastor of the First Protestant (Kayajik) Church and the Talas Armenian Evangelical Church before returning to the First Protestant Church. He died of cholera in 1912 and was remembered as a “sincere, devoted man of God” as well as an “Effective preacher and good pastor.” Sarafian, Briefer History, 60. 
  • [67] Basmajian interview, 1977. Jamil Chamichian was born 1 February 1913 (Jason Keledjian, personal communication to the author).
  • [68] Ward interview, June 2003. Agnes Cherchian Ward explained: “Grandfather orphans, they call ‘em. They don’t inherit much. Whatever grandpa gives them.”
  • [69] Basmajian interview, 1984. Hans were large courtyard buildings where merchants stored goods, conducted business, and found lodging while traveling. Jurjy’s loss of his mule herd occurred within the broader system of wartime requisitioning established under the Tekâlif-i Harbiye laws. Introduced in August 1914 to meet military needs, these laws created Requisitioning Commissions throughout the Ottoman Empire. In Ayntab, the commissions specifically targeted Armenians and other non-Muslims, seizing livestock, merchandise, household goods, and other property without compensation while largely sparing Muslim notables. Armenian artisans were likewise compelled to produce goods for the military without pay. Kurt further shows that the Ayntab Requisitioning Commission confiscated commercial goods belonging to deported Armenians from the Ottoman Bank, deliberately undervalued them, treated them as abandoned property, and allocated them to the military. Ümit Kurt, Armenians of Ayntab, 123–24.
  • [70] As Ümit Kurt observes, Armenians in Ayntab, though aware of deportations elsewhere in the empire, “did not consider the possibility that they could face a similar fate” (Kurt, Armenians of Ayntab, 90). Kurt places the arrival of the first Zeitun deportees in Ayntab on 3 May 1915; see Kurt, Armenians of Ayntab, 89: “on May 3 they saw their first convoy, comprising three hundred women and children from Zeitun, pass through their city,” and 90, noting that deportees were held in the Kavaklık neighborhood. 
  • [71] Kurt, Armenians of Ayntab, 90.
  • [72] Kurt, Armenians of Ayntab, 93, gives 1 August as the date when “only Orthodox Armenians” departed from Ayntab, though he also cites Ms. Frearson’s recollection that the first departures took place on 30 or 31 July (300). On the deportation of Catholic Armenians, see Kurt, Armenians of Ayntab, 97, noting that orders were issued on 19 September and that Der Vartan Vartabed Baghchedjian and his Catholic community were deported later that month. For the deportation of Protestants, see Kurt, Armenians of Ayntab, 100, noting the departure of the first Protestant convoy on 19 December 1915; see also Raymond H. Kévorkian, The Armenian Genocide: A Complete History (London: I.B. Tauris, 2011), 944, describing the deportations as beginning “in falling snow.”
  • [73] The precise date of the deportation order received by Nerses Chamichian’s family is uncertain. Protestant deportations from Ayntab began in December 1915 and continued into early 1916. The first four Protestant convoys, sent between 19 and 23 December 1915, are described by Kurt as departing via Akçakoyunlu for Deir ez-Zor. Deportations resumed on 4 January 1916 and continued through March. Since Annali Chamichian and her siblings traveled by way of Salamiyya rather than Deir ez-Zor, they belonged to one of the later Protestant deportation groups and departed sometime between January and March 1916. Kurt, Armenians of Ayntab, 100–101.
  • [74] Deportation orders appear to have been posted and communicated publicly by town criers (dellals), who traditionally announced government decrees in streets and public squares. Kévorkian notes that the initial deportation order in Ayntab was “posted up and announced by the town crier the morning of 30 July” (Kévorkian, Armenian Genocide, 942). Survivor testimony confirms this practice: “The town crier called out that we had to leave the town” (Miller and Miller, Survivors, 70). Another witness recalled: “The two town criers called out: ‘People, don’t be afraid. Close your doors, put your money in the banks or entrust it to your Turkish friends. It will not be long before you come back. The government assures you’” (Stina Katchadourian, Efronia: An Armenian Love Story [Boston: Northeastern University Press, 1993], 111).
    We even know the names of two dellals in Ayntab. A properties list dated 1 June 1916 records “Dellal Yakup” and “Dellal Mustafa” purchasing liquidated Armenian goods (Kurt, Armenians of Ayntab, 135). These may have been the same dellals who announced the deportation orders that sent Nerses Chamichian and his family into exile.
  • [75] Armenians in Ayntab were required to register their movable and immovable property within a day of receiving deportation orders, submitting petitions to the Ayntab Liquidation Commission (Kurt, Armenians of Ayntab, 127). These declarations were often recorded through the Ottoman Bank, which documented properties on behalf of deportees before transferring them to the Commission for liquidation and auction (Kurt, Armenians of Ayntab, 133–34). The Ottoman Bank branch in Ayntab was located in the Kayacık district, according to Uçaner communication.
    A building in Kayacık originally constructed in 1877 as the American Girls’ School was later repurposed as the Ottoman Bank and subsequently served various civic functions, including the Finance Assessment Office and Kayacık Primary School (Gaziantep City Archive and Research Center [Gaziantep Kent Arşivi ve Araştırma Merkezi], “Kayacık İlkokulu,” Nakşiye Güzel Album, Instagram post, 23 June 2025, accessed 7 June 2026, https://www.instagram.com/p/DL16Y0_CJFy/). The site appears to correspond to the American Girls’ School shown on Simonian’s 1883 map, labeled “A. B. Seminary of Girls,” and to the “Ali Bey House” marked as number 8 on the Barsoumian–Nazarian map of Ayntab. It lay one block southwest of the First Protestant Church. Simonian, Ayntab map; Barsoumian–Nazarian map of Ayntab.
    For a reproduced image of an Ayntab property register submitted to the Ottoman Bank following deportation, see the webpage accompanying Ümit Kurt, “The Armenians of Ayntab” (Ottoman History Podcast), https://www.ottomanhistorypodcast.com/2024/02/kurt.html.
    The CUP clubhouse served as the headquarters of the local Committee of Union and Progress (CUP), the ruling political organization of the Ottoman Empire during the First World War. According to Ümit Kurt, local CUP leaders and other notables played a central role in the deportation of Ayntab’s Armenians and the confiscation and plunder of their property. Kurt argues that, alongside the government's official channels, “another special network dealt with the process of confiscation and seizure through the CUP.” In his words, local actors associated with the CUP in Ayntab were “active agents of the process” (Kurt, The Armenians of Ayntab, 124–25).
  • [76] Basmajian interview, 1984.
  • [77] Basmajian interview, 1984; Kévorkian, Armenian Genocide, 944, noting that “the Protestants were ultimately deported via the Akçakoyun railroad station.”
  • [78] Basmajian interview, 1977: “So we on the donkeys and horses…. Oh, before then my brother, Joe… had a few liras and he sewed it in his waist-shirt and they gurrulus they picked, they tried to get money and he didn’t give it and they took him over, but finally they released him. And he came to Aleppo. After that we came to Aleppo with my uncle’s family with the little things what we have.” The meaning of the word transcribed here as “gurrulus” is uncertain, but in context Annali appears to be referring to armed men or gendarmes who stopped deportees along the route.
  • [79] Basmajian interview, 1984.
  • [80] Basmajian interview, 1977: “You know who tried to get hold of us? My sister’s husband, Hovsep, enişte. They took us to a big hotel, and we were over there. We cleaned the places of the horses, horses and asses, cleaned the place, and we slept over there.” Enişte is Turkish, meaning “sister’s husband.”
  • [81] Basmajian interviews, 1977 and 1984. In 1984 Annali recalled: “We went all the way like that to the Baghdad station and lived in barns until they kicked us out of there. We went to a village called Selemiya.”
  • [82] Basmajian interview, 1984. For the broader context of epidemic disease among deportees, see Vahé Tachjian, Daily Life in the Abyss: Genocide Diaries, 1915–1918 (New York: Berghahn Books, 2017), 130: epidemics were “permanent calamities to which all the deportees were vulnerable,” with malaria, typhus, and cholera “destroying the nucleus of the family and undermining the struggle to survive.” Even when attentive to hygiene, deportees concentrated along transit routes and in overcrowded settlements “were constantly exposed to zones infested by infectious diseases of all sorts.”
  • [83] For the worsening economic crisis in the final years of the war, see Tachjian, Daily Life in the Abyss, 70–71. By 1917, “unparalleled inflation” had plunged deportees into crisis, driving prices beyond what ordinary families could sustain. Many Armenians in Salamiyya survived by “doing odd jobs,” but when “the existing means of survival began to disappear” and “starvation loomed,” they were compelled to leave. Tachjian notes that this desperation “compelled them to abandon hospitable, comparatively secure Salamiyya” and seek work in larger cities such as Hama, Homs, and Aleppo. At the same time, travel restrictions eased. Whereas earlier travel required official permission (a vesika), by 1917 deportees “enjoyed greater freedom of movement, albeit within a restricted area,” and thousands took to the roads looking for work.
  • [84] Annali’s statement “We dressed like Turks and ran away to Aleppo… We changed our names too” may refer either to literal disguise, to the widespread survival strategy of adopting Muslim names and identities, or to some combination of the two. Tachjian notes that in regions such as Salamiyya, this process of strategic Islamization became nearly universal among Armenian deportees, driven both by the threat of deportation into the desert and by pressures within the community to comply outwardly as a means of survival. Under these conditions, the organized Islamization of Armenian deportees “took place smoothly and encountered no noteworthy obstacles” (Tachjian, Daily Life in the Abyss, 159). In many cases the process consisted primarily of registering new Muslim names and obtaining new identity papers, while deportees continued using their Armenian names privately. One survivor later recalled that “nobody seriously considered us to be Muslims” (Tachjian, Daily Life in the Abyss, 163).Annali’s brother George later referred to himself as “Abdulrahman” and “Abdul Khalik” (Lowell Thomas, “Rugs and Rebels,” Ararat [Summer 1980]: 8, https://fliphtml5.com/fqpe/qipr/Ararat_1980_Quarter_3/). These names are reminiscent of “Abdullah” and “Udullah,” the names assigned to Armenian converts (Daily Life in the Abyss, 162).
  • [85] Basmajian interview, 1977.
  • [86] Basmajian interview, 1977: “My Aunt Mary made a big, big package, bundle. All the beds, bedding, pillow. Quilts and soup to eat. We had to manage ourselves with that. For awhile we lived like that.”
  • [87] Basmajian interview, 1984: “In Aleppo we again had rented a house for the four of us: two sisters and two brothers. We had something to spread underneath us and a blanket on top of us, and that’s how the four of us slept.”
  • [88] Basmajian interview, 1984: “My brother and sister worked at the ‘emalet khane.’” Basmajian interview, 1977: “And afterward, when you start to work with the refugees, we used to go spin some wool. And they used to give a loaf of bread every day.” Annali’s brother George’s obituary also mentions going to Aleppo “to labor in the Turkish military workshops” (“Lt. Col. George Haig: Fought Against Ottoman Empire,” The Armenian Reporter, 11 November 1982, 6).
    The Ottoman term imalat hane (literally, “house of manufacture”) referred generally to a workshop or manufacturing establishment. Tachjian notes that during the war thousands of Armenians found employment in Ottoman military workshops, where labor provided an important means of survival for deportees (Tachjian, Daily Life in the Abyss, 177, 199). After the war, however, the term often referred to relief-run workshops that employed Armenian refugees. Barkev Cherchian, recalling its later use in Aleppo, associated the term with the Relief Society and recalled that relief authorities organized local weavers into a centralized workshop and appointed his father, Hovsep Cherchian, as supervisor because he spoke English and knew the trade (Barkev interview, 1997).
  • [89] Aleppo was captured by British-led forces on 26 October 1918, shortly before the Armistice of Mudros (30 October 1918). See Eugene Rogan, The Fall of the Ottomans: The Great War in the Middle East, 1914–1920 (New York: Basic Books, 2015), 380.
  • [90] Ward interview, December 2001.
  • [91] Kurt, Armenians of Ayntab, 101–2. Ümit Kurt notes that “families of soldiers, officers, and medical officers who had been drafted into the Ottoman Army” were among the groups exempted from deportation “in order to meet the army’s needs.” At the same time, he observes that exemptions were applied inconsistently: “Families of Armenian soldiers—some ranked as high as captain—who served in the Ottoman Army on various fronts were also deported” (102). Reflecting on the survival of his own family in Ayntab, Barkev remarked simply: “We were lucky” (Barkev interview, 1997).
  • [92] Ward interview, December 2001; Barkev Cherchian interview, 1997. Agnes Cherchian Ward stated that her father had volunteered for military service rather than waiting to be drafted and regarded this decision as the reason the family escaped deportation. Barkev Cherchian, however, preserved a detailed account from his father describing his conscription into the Ottoman army after reporting to the draft office—later identified by Barkev as the Depot near the Citadel—and appearing before military officials with his ailing father.
  • [93] Louder Chamichian is identified as a captain in the Ottoman army (Hratch Yervant Kestenian, A Portrait of Armenian Student Life at the Syrian Protestant College, 1885–1920 [MA thesis, American University of Beirut, 2015], 106). Annali Basmajian recalled: “My doctor uncle was in the army. But my other uncle got orders that he has to leave his house. We did not get any such orders, but we all went with my uncle and his family” (Basmajian interview, 1984). This suggests that while Nerses received deportation orders, her doctor uncle Louder did not. 
    Baboian places Louder in Ayntab in early 1920 (in February, on 4 April, and on 9 May), indicating that he had returned to the city by that time (Kevork Baboian, The Heroic Battle of Ayntab, trans. Ümit Kurt [London: Gomidas Institute, 2018], 29, 60, 103). A later family recollection from Louder’s daughter Odette similarly held that because her father served as a physician in the Ottoman military, his family was not deported with the first waves of Armenian deportees; according to Odette, they remained in Ayntab until 1920 or 1921, and her brother George was born in Aleppo in the summer of 1921 (Jason Keledjian, email to the author, 22 March 2015). Taken together, this evidence suggests that Louder’s wife and young family remained in Ayntab during the deportations and later joined other members of the Chamichian family in Aleppo.
  • [94] Basmajian interview, 1977.
  • [95] Ümit Kurt notes that among the officially exempted groups in Ayntab were thirty to thirty-five families of Armenian soldiers, officers, and medical officers serving in the Ottoman army. This category is especially relevant to the Chamichian family, since both Jemile’s husband Hovsep and her uncle Louder Chamichian were serving in the Ottoman army during the deportations. Agnes later recalled that the family was spared because Hovsep was serving in the army, and Annali said that her “doctor uncle” was in the army. Kurt further notes that Armenian military physicians from Ayntab whose service exempted their families included Hovsep Mahdesian, Vartan Piranian, Albert Apelian, Aram Der Boghossian, Hovsep Yenikomshouian, Movses Kupelian, Avedis Nakashian, Avedis Jebejian, Yervant H. Khrlopian, and Movses Babigian. Louder Chamichian appears to have fallen into this category as well. By the end of the war, he was serving as a captain and military physician in the Ottoman army (Kestenian, Portrait of Armenian Student Life, 106).
    In addition to military families, Kurt identifies several other exempted groups, including 370 Armenians employed in army production workshops, together with sixty-five to seventy dentists, jewelers, goldsmiths, tinsmiths, kettle-makers, veterinarians, tailors, masons, painters, saddlers, and bakers, along with their families. He also notes that thirty Armenian families converted to Islam and thereby managed to remain. Elsewhere, Kurt estimates that “only around two thousand Armenians were allowed to remain” in Ayntab. See Kurt, Armenians of Ayntab, 101–102, 307–308.
    Raymond Kévorkian likewise describes approximately 2,000 Armenians remaining in Ayntab, but notes that many exemptions were temporary, with some Armenians remaining only “for a few months, depending on circumstances.” He further observes that Armenian women and children who sought refuge in the city “were not systematically rounded up.” Kévorkian, Armenian Genocide, 942–943.
    The Chamichian family illustrates the complexity of these exemptions. Annali recalled that while her “doctor uncle” Louder Chamichian was serving in the Ottoman army, her uncle Nerses Chamichian was ordered deported. “We did not get any such orders,” she wrote, but she and her three siblings nevertheless accompanied their uncle and his family because “we had no one to stay with.” Looking back, she bitterly regretted the decision: “We should not have gone. We should have stayed. No one told us to stay.”
    Taken together, the evidence suggests that the ability of Armenians to remain in Ayntab depended on a patchwork of military service, skilled labor exemptions, temporary protections, conversion, and other exceptions that may not have been fully understood by the families themselves. Barkev later recalled that when the deportation orders came, Jemile told the authorities, “My husband is in the service. I cannot go.” According to the family memory, the response was simply, “Okay.” Annali’s memoir provides a complementary perspective: she and her siblings received no deportation order, even though they ultimately accompanied her uncle’s family into deportation. She likewise admitted that she did not know how her stepmother Ovsanna had managed to remain in Ayntab: “I don’t know how she did it, but she stayed.” Basmajian interview, 1977; Barkev Cherchian interview, 1997.
  • [96] Barkev Cherchian interview, 1997.
  • [97] Ward interview, June 2002. Agnes Ward was born in 1912 according to Barkev Cherchian, unpublished family tree manuscript, in the possession of the author.
  • [98] Kévorkian, Armenian Genocide, 944: “In August 1915, the authorities requisitioned all non-Turkish schools and all churches.”
  • [99] Basmajian interview, 1984: “So my oldest sister used to take care of us. She was a teacher in the orphanage.” Basmajian interview, 1977: “When my mother died my sister have to teach in the school.” George Chamichian Haig, letter to Barkev Cherchian, 28 January 1975, writing of Noonya: “she was my 2nd grade Teacher.”
  • [100] Barkev Cherchian interview, 1997: “Every kid would bring some amount of money. There was a little income coming in.”
  • [101] Ward interview, June 2002.
  • [102] Maurice Abadie, Opérations au Levant: Les Quatre Sièges d’Aïntab (1920–1921) (Paris: Charles-Lavauzelle et Compagnie, 1922), 30–46, Gallica, Bibliothèque nationale de France.
  • [103] Lorin Shepard, “Fighting the Turks at Ayntab,” Current History 14 (1921): 591, reporting that fighting began in Marash on 19 January 1920; that the French withdrew three weeks later; that two-fifths of the city was destroyed; and that 10,000 Armenians were killed. Ray Travis, unpublished diary (digitized), 12–13 February 1920, describing the refugee column fleeing Marash toward Islahie: “The weather was severely cold and many of the weak ones dropped by the wayside to freeze or to starve to death”… “more than a thousand refugees had perished in the snow”; scans courtesy of the Yates County History Center; available through Houshamadyan.
  • [104] Ward interview, June 2002.
  • [105] Barkev Cherchian interview, 1997.
  • [106] Baboian, Heroic Battle, xx (“The Armenians did not yet suspect an imminent attack”); 46, describing stones and tiles pulled from old houses to build barricades.
  • [107] Baboian, Heroic Battle, 114–115. On 24 May 1920, Captain Renaud informed the Armenian National Union that shortages made it “extremely difficult to provide the Armenians with supplies,” and that 6,000 people would need to leave the city with the convoy. Father Nerses Tavoukjian’s statement approving “the departure of those who wish to leave” was adopted that same night, and notices were posted on the walls of the city the following morning.
  • [108] Baboian, Heroic Battle, 114: “The following statement by Father Nerses Tavoukjian was adopted. We will approve the departure of those who wish to leave. However, the men who can contribute to the self-defense of the city will remain here. A special committee composed of three people will control the departure of people…. Those who wish to leave must sell their supplies to the Provisions Committee and hand over their weapons to the Military Body.”
  • [109] Ward interviews, December 2001 and June 2002.
  • [110] Travis diary, 25 May 1920: “The Turks in the hills had evidently seen the crowds gathering” and began shelling the area around four o’clock. One shell struck a wagon but failed to explode; “The French answered immediately with three batteries.” Travis’s diary entries for 24–28 May 1920 preserve a near day-by-day account of the convoy’s departure from Ayntab and the conditions surrounding the evacuation. On 25 May he recorded that the French had requested the evacuation of “5,000 or 6,000 persons” and estimated that the convoy included approximately 4,000 Armenians, 650 orphans, and 200 rescued women.
  • [111] While describing the bombardment, Agnes first recalled the word top: “Top. Topat lal? Topat.” Barkev translated, “Cannon.” Agnes then continued: “I could hear the cannon roa--ring.” Ward interview, June 2002.
  • [112] Agnes first referred to the vehicle as an araba: “Araba?” Barkev translated, “Carriage. Horse-drawn carriage.” Agnes immediately corrected him: “Not horse.” When asked whether it was mule-drawn, she replied, “Mule.” Ward interview, June 2002.
  • [113] Travis diary, 26 May 1920: “Shortly after six o’clock this morning the aeroplane came and landed. The observer reported the column as having arrived at Ouloumashe [Ulu Mezre]. Everything has been quiet along the road, and they are evidently meeting with no opposition.” 
  • [114] Travis diary, 27 May 1920. By seven o’clock in the morning, Ray Travis recorded the arrival in Ayntab of General de la Motte by aeroplane from Kilis. The general reported that the convoy was “two hours out of Kilis” when he departed the city around 6:30 AM. This places the head of the convoy at Kilis on the morning of 27 May, at approximately 8:30 AM. The distance from Ulu Mezre to Kilis is approximately 43.5 km, measured from Karte von Mesopotamien und Syrien, sheet 1b (Aleppo), prepared by the Cartographic Department of the Royal Prussian Survey (Kgl. Preuß. Landesaufnahme), May 1918, scale 1:400,000, Princeton University Library (HMC01.4206). At likely convoy speeds for a refugee column traveling with carts, animals, and children, the journey would have required roughly 14–17 hours of movement. On that basis, the convoy appears to have departed Ulu Mezre sometime in the late afternoon or evening of 26 May.
  • [115] Abadie, Opérations au Levant, 22: “Toutes ces lignes sont aujourd'hui détruites” (“All of these telegraph lines are now destroyed”). Telegraph communications were still functioning in late 1919 but were progressively disrupted in the months that followed. Reports from December 1919 and January 1920 indicate that telegraph lines were being cut, in some cases severing communication entirely. By February 1920, the telegraph line between Ayntab and Kilis had been cut, and approximately fifty poles had been uprooted (Abadie, Opérations au Levant, 42). Contemporary maps show the telegraph line following the road into Kilis for the final six kilometres after the route turns westward toward the city (Karte von Mesopotamien und Syrien, sheet 1b [Aleppo]).
    Travis diary, 28 May 1920: “We learned to-day that the rear guard of the column that arrived in Kilis yesterday morning was attacked by Turkish cavalry when 1½ kilometres out from Kilis, and a French captain, a medical officer, killed.” The same map shows a substantial stream crossing approximately 1.5 km east of Kilis along the convoy’s approach route (Karte von Mesopotamien und Syrien, sheet 1b [Aleppo]). Such crossings would likely have slowed the long refugee column and caused carts and pack animals to bunch together, leaving the rear guard especially vulnerable to cavalry attack.
  • [116] The distance from Kilis to Qatma was approximately 26 km (Karte von Mesopotamien und Syrien, sheet 1b [Aleppo]). Although mule-drawn carts could travel at roughly 2.5–3 km per hour, large refugee convoys traveled much more slowly. Progress depended on repeated halts for watering and resting exhausted animals, particularly in the late May heat. Even without extended halts, the journey would likely have required roughly ten hours, with additional hours added for watering and rest stops. If the refugees departed Kilis after only a brief rest late in the morning, they may have reached Qatma station after dark on 27 May.
  • [117] W. J. Childs, Across Asia Minor on Foot (Edinburgh and London: William Blackwood and Sons, 1917), 410, Internet Archive: “You are told that entering Killis from the north you will find the language Turkish, but when passing out to the south will hear only Arabic. And this was my experience to the letter both in entering and leaving.”
  • [118] Rosa Chamichian, Annali Chamichian, and Jemile Chamichian Cherchian in Aleppo. Scanned from the photograph album of Agnes Cherchian Ward. The original photograph has since been lost.
  • [119] Nerses Chamichian and family in Aleppo, 1924. From top left, clockwise: Efron, George, Henry, Levon, baby Hermine (or Anayis), young Hermine (or Anayis) seated on the chair, Nerses seated, and Meriye seated. Digital copy courtesy of the Chamichian, Chavoor, and Keledjian families.
  • [120] Jamil and Ovsanna Chamichian. Photograph in the possession of the Chamichian, Chavoor, and Keledjian families.
  • [121] Jemile Chamichian Cherchian with her family in Aleppo, ca. 1924. Mother Jemile holds baby Paul; father Hovsep holds young Barkev, who had traveled in the mule cart convoy as an infant. Alice sits in the chair. The two sisters from the mule cart convoy, Agnes in white shoes and Ruth, hold hands. Photograph in the possession of the Cherchian, Cort, and House families.
  • [122] The family in Aleppo, early 1930s. Counterclockwise from top right: George, son of Louder Chamichian; Haroutiun, grandson of Nerses Chamichian; Barkev Cherchian holding a ball; Alice Cherchian; Agnes Cherchian in a white dress; Helen Cherchian; Paul Cherchian; and Jemile Chamichian Cherchian. At center is Ovsanna Chamichian. Photograph in the possession of the Cherchian, Cort, and House families.
  • [123] George Chamichian, younger brother of Jemile and Annali, visited Aleppo from the United States in 1936. During his visit he gave this photograph to his nephew Barkev Cherchian—the infant who had ridden on a mule cart from Ayntab in 1920. Dr. Louder Chamichian, wearing a patterned tie, is seated just right of center beneath the woman wearing glasses.
  • [124] Reverse inscription in Armeno-Turkish:
    Պէն վէ պիրատէրին պու / ֆօթէկրաֆըմըզը եատիքիար— Ben ve biraderin bu fotoğrafımızı yadigâr — Please accept this photograph of your brother and me as a keepsake.
    հալընտա քապուլ վէ հիֆզ / էտէրէք պիզի խաթր— hâlinde kabul ve hıfz ederek bizi hatır... — Accept and preserve it as a keepsake...
    [Partially illegible] ...նիզի — [Partially illegible] ...nizi — Translation uncertain.
    արզու էտէրիզ — arzu ederiz — We wish... / We hope...
    Վալիտէն — Validen — Your mother.
    Հովսաննա Չամիչեան — Hovsanna Chamichian — Hovsanna Chamichian.
    Please accept this photograph of your brother and me as a keepsake, preserving it... The concluding phrase is partially illegible. It ends with the expression arzu ederiz (“we wish” or “we hope”). The missing words may either express the hope that Rosa would remember her family or form part of a conventional expression of good wishes.
    Photograph in the possession of the Chamichian, Chavoor, and Keledjian families.
  • [125] Reverse inscription in Armenian:
    Ի յիշատակ սիրոյ ձեր ընտանիքին կը ղրկեմ այս նկարս։ — As a keepsake of my affection for your family, I send you this photograph.
    Ճէմիլ Չամիչեան — Jamil Chamichian.
    Ապրիլ 20, 1942 — April 20, 1942.
    Երուսաղէմ — Jerusalem.
    Photograph in the possession of the Cherchian, Cort, and House families.
  • [126] Reverse inscription in Armeno-Turkish:
    Սէվկուլու Ամմիմ— Sevgülü ammim — My dear uncle.
    Տօք. Լ. Չամիչեան — Dr. L. Chamichian — Dr. L. Chamichian.
    զիգրիյէթ պէնտէն սիզէ — Zikriyet benden size — A remembrance from me to you.
    Ճէմիլ Չամիչեան — Cemil Chamichian — Jamil Chamichian.
    Հոկ. 25, 1942 — 25 Hog. 1942 — October 25, 1942.
    Երուսալէմ — Yerusalem — Jerusalem.
    Photograph in the possession of the Chamichian, Chavoor, and Keledjian families.