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PILLARS TELL TALE OF TUNG NUTS, SCHOLARSHIPS
Kat Bergeron
The Sun Herald
McClatchy-Tribune Business News
February 3, 2008 Sunday
Biloxi, Mississippi
Feb. 3--As the mysterious 8-foot Bezazian pillars prove, the "rest
of the story" can be as surprising as the original.
This tale begins with a letter from someone curious about the
history of two concrete pillars in a Gulfport park and ends with such
recognizable Mississippi Coast names as Webb Lee and Bobby Ladner.
If not for the death of World War II hero Harold Bezazian, these two
and a handful of others from poor rural families wouldn't have gotten
the college footing that set them on a path of community leadership.
Bezazian is an uncommon name in this region, and long ago the
neighborhood near the park pillars forgot why the park was created
there. A plaque reads: "In Honor of a Hero, 1st Lt. Harold A. Bezazian,
Born Chicago, Illinois November 11, 1911. Killed in Action on Luzon,
Philippine Islands, March 11, 1945."
When the history mystery landed on my desk, I tracked down the Bezazian
family still in Chicago. A niece explained that after Harold's death,
his father created philanthropic projects in his memory. One is a
branch library in Chicago and another is three Gulfport parks.
The obvious question is, why here? The niece, Paulette Bezazian,
points out that the lieutenant's father, who was her grandfather,
owned a 520-acre tung tree farm near Gulfport.
That makes historical sense. Beginning at the turn of the 20th century,
snow-wary Chicagoans turned the tepid Mississippi Coast into a winter
getaway. John Bezazian, Harold's father, was likely one of the winter
escapees, and being a smart businessman, he also recognized the
agricultural potential here. In the first half of the 20th century,
tung tree oil was important for paint and furniture polish, and South
Mississippi soil grew tung nuts well.
Before going off to war, Harold worked at his father's Mississippi
tung farm because he thought the experience would make him a better
short story writer.
Another thing you should know is that Harold's father was an Armenian
immigrant. Although he eventually did well in real estate and rugs,
in the early days he was penniless and discriminated against, as
darker skinned, non-English speaking immigrants sometimes are. That's
why he created three Gulfport parks in less privileged neighborhoods.
"My own father drove us by the playgrounds when I was a kid," Paulette
Bezazian remembers. "He wanted to make a point that you must be
charitable and you must not accept inequality."
The park with the pillars is on 30th Street. David Aquilla of Gulfport
Leisure Services says another of the Bezazian pillar parks is adjacent
to the 19th Street Community Center but he is uncertain of the third
location.
The Bezazian puzzle pieces were falling into place when my deadline
arrived and after the article, we learned the location of the tung
farm. The still undeveloped land is on Bradley Road, north of DeLisle.
"The first dollar I ever earned was at the Bezazian farm, picking up
tung nuts," Bobby Ladner of Long Beach says. "I was just a kid and
we got paid by the bushel."
Bobby's story didn't stop there. Years later, he was one of the
recipients of a Bezazian scholarship.
"What we were told is that the father used the death benefits for
his son as scholarships for rural kids to go to Mississippi State
University. I remember my daddy taking me to the Trailways bus station
in 1955. He bought me a one-way ticket to Mississippi State, then
reached in his pocket and gave me the best he could, $20.
Because of Bezazian, that's all it cost my parents for me to get a
college education."
Bobby eventually became Harrison County school superintendent. Among
others locally who benefited from Bezazian generosity is Webb Lee,
retired circuit clerk who attended MSU for one year on scholarship
before dropping out to support family after his father's illness.
"The Bezazians were charitable people who shared their good fortune,"
Webb says. "I used to correspond with them and saved those letters
and mementos but Katrina took them all."
What hasn't disappeared is how this Chicago generosity permanently
marked Webb's life.
"The Bezazians were kind to me, and I try to repay by doing some
scholarships each year myself for young people who don't have the
money."
That, in the words of Paul Harvey, is the rest of the story. The
name may be little known here but the Bezazian legacy lives on in
enriched lives.
Kat Bergeron
The Sun Herald
McClatchy-Tribune Business News
February 3, 2008 Sunday
Biloxi, Mississippi
Feb. 3--As the mysterious 8-foot Bezazian pillars prove, the "rest
of the story" can be as surprising as the original.
This tale begins with a letter from someone curious about the
history of two concrete pillars in a Gulfport park and ends with such
recognizable Mississippi Coast names as Webb Lee and Bobby Ladner.
If not for the death of World War II hero Harold Bezazian, these two
and a handful of others from poor rural families wouldn't have gotten
the college footing that set them on a path of community leadership.
Bezazian is an uncommon name in this region, and long ago the
neighborhood near the park pillars forgot why the park was created
there. A plaque reads: "In Honor of a Hero, 1st Lt. Harold A. Bezazian,
Born Chicago, Illinois November 11, 1911. Killed in Action on Luzon,
Philippine Islands, March 11, 1945."
When the history mystery landed on my desk, I tracked down the Bezazian
family still in Chicago. A niece explained that after Harold's death,
his father created philanthropic projects in his memory. One is a
branch library in Chicago and another is three Gulfport parks.
The obvious question is, why here? The niece, Paulette Bezazian,
points out that the lieutenant's father, who was her grandfather,
owned a 520-acre tung tree farm near Gulfport.
That makes historical sense. Beginning at the turn of the 20th century,
snow-wary Chicagoans turned the tepid Mississippi Coast into a winter
getaway. John Bezazian, Harold's father, was likely one of the winter
escapees, and being a smart businessman, he also recognized the
agricultural potential here. In the first half of the 20th century,
tung tree oil was important for paint and furniture polish, and South
Mississippi soil grew tung nuts well.
Before going off to war, Harold worked at his father's Mississippi
tung farm because he thought the experience would make him a better
short story writer.
Another thing you should know is that Harold's father was an Armenian
immigrant. Although he eventually did well in real estate and rugs,
in the early days he was penniless and discriminated against, as
darker skinned, non-English speaking immigrants sometimes are. That's
why he created three Gulfport parks in less privileged neighborhoods.
"My own father drove us by the playgrounds when I was a kid," Paulette
Bezazian remembers. "He wanted to make a point that you must be
charitable and you must not accept inequality."
The park with the pillars is on 30th Street. David Aquilla of Gulfport
Leisure Services says another of the Bezazian pillar parks is adjacent
to the 19th Street Community Center but he is uncertain of the third
location.
The Bezazian puzzle pieces were falling into place when my deadline
arrived and after the article, we learned the location of the tung
farm. The still undeveloped land is on Bradley Road, north of DeLisle.
"The first dollar I ever earned was at the Bezazian farm, picking up
tung nuts," Bobby Ladner of Long Beach says. "I was just a kid and
we got paid by the bushel."
Bobby's story didn't stop there. Years later, he was one of the
recipients of a Bezazian scholarship.
"What we were told is that the father used the death benefits for
his son as scholarships for rural kids to go to Mississippi State
University. I remember my daddy taking me to the Trailways bus station
in 1955. He bought me a one-way ticket to Mississippi State, then
reached in his pocket and gave me the best he could, $20.
Because of Bezazian, that's all it cost my parents for me to get a
college education."
Bobby eventually became Harrison County school superintendent. Among
others locally who benefited from Bezazian generosity is Webb Lee,
retired circuit clerk who attended MSU for one year on scholarship
before dropping out to support family after his father's illness.
"The Bezazians were charitable people who shared their good fortune,"
Webb says. "I used to correspond with them and saved those letters
and mementos but Katrina took them all."
What hasn't disappeared is how this Chicago generosity permanently
marked Webb's life.
"The Bezazians were kind to me, and I try to repay by doing some
scholarships each year myself for young people who don't have the
money."
That, in the words of Paul Harvey, is the rest of the story. The
name may be little known here but the Bezazian legacy lives on in
enriched lives.