The story of Kevork “George” Hakalmazian told by grandson Scott Tejerian.

My grandfather, Kevork “George” Hakalmazian, lost his family in the genocide somewhere around age seven. His father was forced to give my grandpa’s sister in marriage to the Turkish mayor of their town, Peri. My grandpa never saw his sister again. Shortly after, when my grandpa’s father, Sarkis, was reading the Bible one afternoon in front of their house, Turkish soldiers took him and my grandpa’s mother, Oghapar, away. My grandfather never saw them again. My grandpa and the other children of the village, including his older brother Hagop, were rounded up by the soldiers and taken to the nearby river. At the river they were separated by size. My grandpa’s nephew, the son of his eldest brother who was already living in the USA, was separated in the group of smaller children away from my grandpa and his brother, Hagop. The smaller children were thrown into the river to drown, except my grandpa’s nephew knew how to swim. When the Turkish soldiers saw him swimming, they shot him dead in the water. For the next few years, my grandpa and Hagop were forced to work for a Turkish farm owner. They were his slaves. Eventually, my grandpa and Hagop were rescued by an older cousin, Marderos, who helped them escape to an orphanage in Lebanon. It was there that their eldest brother, Martin, who was living in Chicago at the time, found them and sent for them to come to America. My grandfather arrived in Ellis Island on July 4, 1923. He didn’t know his birthday, so for every year after that his birthday was July 4th.