THE DISCOVERY

“It’s how it goes.” she told him as she accompanied him toward the carriage depot. “I raise you all, one by one. Then you take wing and fly away, leaving me in the lurch.” Those were his mother’s last words to him. It never entered his mind that he’d never see her again.

Once the war began, thoughts of his mother’s wellbeing drove him, against his father’s wishes, to enlist with the Armenian Volunteers. For him it became as much a rescue mission as it was a fight for Armenia’s independence. It soon became the source of his greatest trauma. He recounts in his memoir the above dialogue, the last time he saw her, as if it were a dream, a scene that likely played over and over in his mind. Would he brazenly lie about his mother’s departed soul simply to convince the jury he was crazy? This notion stretch to incredulity for Michael. The investigation continued.

Included with the court transcript was a preface by the translator, Vartkes Yeghiayan, a lawyer who had dedicated a good portion of his efforts suing the Turkish government for restitution. A quick search showed that Vartkes had an office on the 12th floor of a high-rise in downtown Glendale, a lead which Michael promptly pursued. Sadly, only one month prior, on September 30, 2017, Vartkes had passed away. Even so, Michael found a phone number and called. He had hoped to arrange a meeting with someone, anyone, perhaps Vartkes’ widow, or perhaps someone in the office could point Michael in the right direction. But to no avail.

Back to square one. Michael returned to the list of Armenian bookstores in Glendale. Second on the list was “Abril.” Michael visited, and in so doing, struck the veritable mother-load. This spacious bookstore, five times the size of “Berj”, also included an adjoining art gallery and event space. The amiable owner, Arno Yeretzian, a fixture in the community, happily greeted Michael and tried to point him in the right direction. “Have you read Operation Nemesis?” “No.” Michael quickly snatched it up. Like a kid in a candy store, and not a little bit overwhelmed, Michael took in the entirety of “Abril.” It instantly became an oasis for him, and the site of a number of milestones in Michael’s journey to Tehlirian.

Toward the end of that first visit, Arno interjected, “You know, I know someone who you might be interested in talking to. He’s connected to those who carried out the Nemesis operation.” Arno indicated a book on a low shelf and retrieved a phone number. “Call this guy.” Eureka-moment number two! Michael couldn’t believe how swiftly his fortunes had turned. After a minor hiccup, he was suddenly about to meet a true “insider.” His determination was paying off. He called the number, and set a lunch appointment in Burbank within the hour!

(Continued from first entry below)

Tehlirian’s courtroom testimony includes a number of known omissions and outright falsehoods; the omission of his military service, the fabrication that he was eyewitness to his family’s massacre, the lie that he acted alone. These are all understandable for self-evident reasons, but for Michael, the invocation of his mother’s ghost stood apart.

Soghomon’s mother, Hnazant Tehlirian (born Katrdjian) was his world. He hardly knew his father, Khachador, who owned and operated a coffee shop & dispensary in Serbia, since Soghomon was a toddler. The family business afforded a comfortable living for the Tehlirian clan in the midsized city of Erzinçan. In turn, when they came of age, Soghomon’s two eldest brother’s Setrak & Misak, joined their father abroad. Avedis, third in line, and four years older than Soghomon, went to medical school in Beirut. Finally, at age 17, Soghomon too was sent away.