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Stranded in Beirut
Los Angeles Daily News, CA
July 19 2006
Valley-area residents wait to escape war zone BY LISA VAN PROYEN,
Special to the Daily News
BEIRUT - With thunderous bomb blasts shaking the buildings, Glendale
resident George Kesablak spent Tuesday at the U.S. Embassy, sweltering
in the heat and worrying about when his family would escape the war
zone. "I'm here every day - 9 to 5, `working' - just like in the
States, huh? Working 9 to 5, waiting for the boat, the rescue. We
have to be home.
"I have my family, my child and my business."
Kesablak, an agent at a Verizon retail store in Van Nuys, and his
family were among more than 100 Americans who swarmed the embassy
in Awkar, about 10 miles northeast of Beirut, hoping to escape the
escalating conflict between Israel and Hezbollah.
Another American citizen, Suzy Ayzoukian, 35, who moved eight years
ago from Woodland Hills to Rabieh, Lebanon, was among those at the
embassy, pleading to be evacuated to safety.
"There's just no information. They're taking their time," she said
of the U.S. government, which came under fierce criticism Tuesday
for its evacuation effort.
Ayzoukian fled Lebanon during a civil war in 1984. She lived in
Woodland Hills before returning to the Mideast in 1998.
With the battle escalating between Israel and the Hezbollah guerrillas,
she plans to return to Woodland Hills to live near her parents.
"Our building is shaking" under the pounding of Israeli airstrikes,
she said. "It was so unexpected and it's really not fair. The people
are suffering and it's not right."
Born and raised in Beirut, Kesablak left Lebanon 28 years ago during
an earlier civil war. His family sought refuge in Kuwait, then moved
to Glendale 25 years ago.
This year, he and his wife, Maral, 39, decided to return to his
homeland with their 3-year-old, Grace, for a five-day family visit.
"I wanted to see the city because people said it's beautiful here,"
said Maral, an Armenian who was raised a Christian and grew up
peacefully in Israel.
"But now it's shocking. My daughter cries all the time. You hear
the blasts.
"It stresses you out. I will never come back here."
Of the airstrikes pounding nearby, Kesablak said: "I tell my daughter
it's the rain, the lightning."
The Kesablaks arrived July 11, the day before unrest began. They
checked into a comfortable hotel, visited a nightclub, ate falafel
and shawarma at local restaurants and basked in the hospitality of
the Lebanese people.
"It was awesome. Everybody is happy. We have a nice hotel, nice people
around us. Then, everything changed suddenly," said Kesablak, 42.
By their second day, the relentless bombardment began. Kesablak's
hotel shakes with each bomb dropped near Beirut. Car alarms ring
through the night.
Beirut International Airport was among the first sites to be hit,
stranding some 25,000 Americans.
"We started hearing the bombs. That's something new for us," he said.
"We were very, very scared. The hotel staff said, `It's no problem."'
Kesablak went immediately to the U.S. Embassy, where he and other
Americans are routinely told through fliers and e-mails: "The embassy
is monitoring the situation in Lebanon closely and is reviewing all
options for assisting Americans who wish to depart Lebanon."
At the embassy Tuesday afternoon, an American official repeatedly
informed those desperately wanting to leave that help was on the way,
but that "negotiations" among the American, Israeli and Lebanese
governments are in force to assure safe passage by ship to Cypress.
Some Americans instead opted to take back roads to Damascus, which
the embassy reported via Internet are "subject to an airstrike at
any time."
Friends are helping Kesablak book a one-way flight from Cypress to
Kuwait - a flight that ordinarily costs him and his family $1,000 will
now cost $5,000. From Kuwait, they will travel back to Los Angeles.
"We don't know why this is happening, but we know we're caught in it
and we cannot leave. For us, it's very, very scary. I just want to
go home," Kesablak said, adding a plea to the American government:
"Help get us out of here. What's going to happen? What if a bomb
hits us?"
Los Angeles Daily News, CA
July 19 2006
Valley-area residents wait to escape war zone BY LISA VAN PROYEN,
Special to the Daily News
BEIRUT - With thunderous bomb blasts shaking the buildings, Glendale
resident George Kesablak spent Tuesday at the U.S. Embassy, sweltering
in the heat and worrying about when his family would escape the war
zone. "I'm here every day - 9 to 5, `working' - just like in the
States, huh? Working 9 to 5, waiting for the boat, the rescue. We
have to be home.
"I have my family, my child and my business."
Kesablak, an agent at a Verizon retail store in Van Nuys, and his
family were among more than 100 Americans who swarmed the embassy
in Awkar, about 10 miles northeast of Beirut, hoping to escape the
escalating conflict between Israel and Hezbollah.
Another American citizen, Suzy Ayzoukian, 35, who moved eight years
ago from Woodland Hills to Rabieh, Lebanon, was among those at the
embassy, pleading to be evacuated to safety.
"There's just no information. They're taking their time," she said
of the U.S. government, which came under fierce criticism Tuesday
for its evacuation effort.
Ayzoukian fled Lebanon during a civil war in 1984. She lived in
Woodland Hills before returning to the Mideast in 1998.
With the battle escalating between Israel and the Hezbollah guerrillas,
she plans to return to Woodland Hills to live near her parents.
"Our building is shaking" under the pounding of Israeli airstrikes,
she said. "It was so unexpected and it's really not fair. The people
are suffering and it's not right."
Born and raised in Beirut, Kesablak left Lebanon 28 years ago during
an earlier civil war. His family sought refuge in Kuwait, then moved
to Glendale 25 years ago.
This year, he and his wife, Maral, 39, decided to return to his
homeland with their 3-year-old, Grace, for a five-day family visit.
"I wanted to see the city because people said it's beautiful here,"
said Maral, an Armenian who was raised a Christian and grew up
peacefully in Israel.
"But now it's shocking. My daughter cries all the time. You hear
the blasts.
"It stresses you out. I will never come back here."
Of the airstrikes pounding nearby, Kesablak said: "I tell my daughter
it's the rain, the lightning."
The Kesablaks arrived July 11, the day before unrest began. They
checked into a comfortable hotel, visited a nightclub, ate falafel
and shawarma at local restaurants and basked in the hospitality of
the Lebanese people.
"It was awesome. Everybody is happy. We have a nice hotel, nice people
around us. Then, everything changed suddenly," said Kesablak, 42.
By their second day, the relentless bombardment began. Kesablak's
hotel shakes with each bomb dropped near Beirut. Car alarms ring
through the night.
Beirut International Airport was among the first sites to be hit,
stranding some 25,000 Americans.
"We started hearing the bombs. That's something new for us," he said.
"We were very, very scared. The hotel staff said, `It's no problem."'
Kesablak went immediately to the U.S. Embassy, where he and other
Americans are routinely told through fliers and e-mails: "The embassy
is monitoring the situation in Lebanon closely and is reviewing all
options for assisting Americans who wish to depart Lebanon."
At the embassy Tuesday afternoon, an American official repeatedly
informed those desperately wanting to leave that help was on the way,
but that "negotiations" among the American, Israeli and Lebanese
governments are in force to assure safe passage by ship to Cypress.
Some Americans instead opted to take back roads to Damascus, which
the embassy reported via Internet are "subject to an airstrike at
any time."
Friends are helping Kesablak book a one-way flight from Cypress to
Kuwait - a flight that ordinarily costs him and his family $1,000 will
now cost $5,000. From Kuwait, they will travel back to Los Angeles.
"We don't know why this is happening, but we know we're caught in it
and we cannot leave. For us, it's very, very scary. I just want to
go home," Kesablak said, adding a plea to the American government:
"Help get us out of here. What's going to happen? What if a bomb
hits us?"