[Congressional Record Volume 156, Number 105 (Thursday, July 15, 2010)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages E1344-E1345]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




  STORY OF ARMENIAN GENOCIDE SURVIVORS: MARY HASESIAN AND HER HUSBAND 
                      ARTIN (HAROUTYOUN) SAMANLIAN

                                 ______
                                 

                          HON. ADAM B. SCHIFF

                             of california

                    in the house of representatives

                        Thursday, July 15, 2010

  Mr. SCHIFF. Madam Speaker, I rise today to memorialize and record a 
courageous story of survival of the Armenian Genocide. The Armenian 
Genocide, perpetrated by the Ottoman Empire from 1915 to 1923, resulted 
in the death of 1.5 million Armenian men, women, and children. As the 
U.S. Ambassador to the Ottoman Empire Henry Morgenthau documented at 
the time, it was a campaign of ``race extermination.''
  The campaign to annihilate the Armenian people failed, as illustrated 
by the proud Armenian nation and prosperous diaspora. It is difficult 
if not impossible to find an Armenian family not touched by the 
genocide, and while there are some survivors still with us, it is 
imperative that we record their stories. Through the Armenian Genocide 
Congressional Record Project, I hope to document the harrowing stories 
of the survivors in an effort to preserve their accounts and to help 
educate the Members of Congress now and in the future of the necessity 
of recognizing the Armenian Genocide.
  Below is one of those stories:

       Mary Samanlian Poladian's grandmother, Mary Hasesian, 
     married Artin (Haroutyoun) Samanlian when she was 16 years 
     old--it was Artin's second marriage and Mary's first 
     marriage. They were from the city of Marash. From Mary 
     Samanlian Poladian on behalf of her grandmother, grandfather 
     and ancestors:
       ``My grandfather's first wife had died and left behind an 
     8-year-old daughter named Siranoush, and a 7-year-old son 
     named Panos. After a year of marriage, my grandmother was 
     already expecting a child.
       ``One evening, when the French army left the city, the 
     Turkish army armed with knives and axes attacked the city 
     before sunrise. The Armenian people were still asleep. My 
     grandfather and grandmother were awakened by the noises and 
     realized that they should run to safety. They immediately 
     took the children and got out their home to go to the nearby 
     church. On their way, the Turkish soldiers fired at them from 
     far away. Panos cried in pain when one of the bullets struck 
     his leg. His father carried him, and they all continued 
     walking towards the church. Not long after, my grandmother 
     began to feel pain, and she knew she was ready to deliver her 
     baby.
       ``When they reached the church, my grandmother gave birth 
     to a baby girl who she named Zarouhi. The church was full of 
     people, and sadly my grandmother and grandfather lost each 
     other. During this time, she also found out that Lutfia and 
     Gulen, two of the nine sisters, had been burned alive in the 
     furnace with their husbands and children. With no sign of her 
     husband, she carried her baby and asked her husband's son and 
     daughter to hold her skirt as they walked out of the church 
     with the rest of the people.
       ``Now, they had to walk from Marash to Aleppo (Syria). The 
     weather was cold and it began to snow. They ate snow when 
     they felt hungry. It was a long way and they were exhausted. 
     Panos's pain was not subsiding as well. Eventually, they all 
     made it to Aleppo, where they joined other Armenian refugees. 
     An Armenian priest sent them, as well as three other Armenian 
     women and their children, to Damascus by train. In Damascus, 
     they lived together in an old house.
       ``One day, some Armenians and Americans came and took the 
     children to the orphanage. My grandmother was devastated. As 
     time passed by, good news sparked a ray of hope in her life. 
     Three years later, there was a knock on her door, and guess 
     who it was? My grandmother fell on the ground unconscious 
     when she saw her husband standing in front of the home. After 
     she absorbed what had happen, he told her that he had been 
     looking for them for a long time, and was told by some 
     relatives that they had heard of them coming to Aleppo. He 
     immediately brought back his children from the orphanage, and 
     they went to Beirut where my father Georgie was born. Years 
     later, they were also blessed with two daughters.
       ``They named their two daughters Lutfia and Gulen in memory 
     of my grandmother's sisters who lost their lives during the 
     Armenian Genocide.''

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