A PRISONER OF WAR'S TWISTED ODYSSEY BACK HOME
By Grace Hobson, McClatchy Newspapers
The Kansas City Star (Missouri)
Distributed by McClatchy-Tribune News Service
January 11, 2009 Sunday
KANSAS CITY, Mo. _ Shant Kenderian has been the victim of bad
timing. Really bad timing.
After immigrating to the United States in the late 1970s, Kenderian
returned to visit Iraq just in time for Saddam Hussein Enhanced
Coverage LinkingSaddam Hussein -Search using: Biographies Plus News
News, Most Recent 60 Days to invade Iran and shut the borders. And
when he finally was about to get a renewed green card to go home 10
years later, Iraq invaded Kuwait and again closed the borders.
Drafted into Saddam's navy, Kenderian was taken prisoner of war not
long after the U.S. military launched Desert Storm.
But Kenderian finally made it back to the United States, in a
journey snaked with turns of fate, or coincidence, depending on your
view. Four people with ties to Kansas City played pivotal roles in
his homecoming. Three of them live within miles of each other in
Johnson County, Kan.
Hugh Grossman of Spring Hill, one of his POW guards, is still awed
by Kenderian's odyssey.
"For people who need hope, it just lets you know God does watch over
us in strange ways," Grossman said.
Last week, Kenderian gathered for a reunion of sorts with his Kansas
City friends.
"It's a very happy ending," said Kenderian, 45, now of Los Angeles. "I
used up all my bad luck in the beginning. Now I'm going on the other
side of the spectrum."
An English teacher at the American Cultural Center in Baghdad, Barbara
Stoll had to explain to the young man that no, she could not let him
take her classes for free. Besides, she said, your English is so good.
That summer of 1989, Shant Kenderian poured out his story to her. He
had immigrated to the U.S. as a 15-year-old with his mother and
brother when his parents divorced. But he needed to make peace with
the father he left behind, so he had returned.
Within days, Saddam shut the borders. Kenderian was 17. He went to
college in Baghdad to avoid military service, but after he graduated
with an engineering degree, he was drafted into Saddam's navy.
He spent the next 3{ years fighting Iran for Saddam. When the travel
ban was lifted in 1990, Kenderian was desperate to apply for asylum
at the American Embassy in Baghdad. But punishment for a soldier's
visit to a foreign embassy was death.
Stoll arranged for Kenderian to visit her class occasionally and have
an art exhibit for his paintings at the cultural center. Then she told
him to meet her and her husband in the market one Saturday. Daniel
Stoll was the consul officer at the U.S. Embassy in Baghdad _ in
charge of issuing green cards.
"I don't know how he got me _ there were 12 other teachers there and
none of them were married to the consul officer," said Barbara Stoll,
now living in Overland Park, Kan. "I asked him if he knew that,
and he didn't."
Kenderian's paperwork was almost completed when, on Aug. 2, 1990,
Saddam invaded Kuwait. Records at the U.S. Embassy were destroyed.
Kenderian again found himself in the Iraqi navy, and he came to his
life's lowest point. His father had died within a year of Kenderian's
return to Iraq. He had no family left there, he was witnessing the
horrors of Saddam's regime, and he was desperate to return home.
He volunteered for duty on a landing craft that would be near the
front lines once the war began with the Americans. He knew it would
get him killed _ or captured by the Americans.
He did get captured.
Eventually Kenderian was sent to a POW camp in Saudi Arabia in 1991. He
told the guards his story _ that he was a permanent resident of the
United States and that he wanted to get home, not to Iraq.
By the time he landed in Lt. Thomas Magee's camp, the soldiers
believed him.
Magee learned that Kenderian was a Christian of Armenian descent,
making him a minority in Iraq.
The lieutenant invited Kenderian to join the American soldiers'
Bible study. "I found it touching," said Magee, now a lieutenant
colonel who lives in Overland Park. "We were studying the Word with
a guy who was the enemy."
But Magee believed Kenderian. Why else would he expose himself to
persecution in a Muslim country by admitting that he was a Christian?
The lieutenant looked out for him and sent Kenderian's story up the
chain of command in hope someone could help him.
Kenderian knew Staff Sgt. Hugh Grossman in the POW compound for only
10 days of his three months in captivity. But he left a deep impression
on Kenderian.
Grossman brought cigarettes to the heavy smokers in captivity. He
took pictures and would tell jokes to get Kenderian to smile. He gave
Kenderian two sweat suits to replace his prisoner jumpsuit.
And Kenderian was touched by Grossman's understanding of difficult
experiences. Grossman was a veteran of two tours in Vietnam, a soldier
who had known a war unlike the quick victory of Desert Storm.
Kenderian worked in an administrative area as an interpreter. He
spent 16 to 18 hours a day translating, helping the soldiers pacify
the Iraqis, Grossman said.
When Kenderian was transferred to another camp, Grossman couldn't
face him to say goodbye. The soldiers didn't know if he'd make it
home or be turned over to the Saudis, who would send him back to Iraq,
a deep fear of Kenderian's.
"The day he left I was crying," Grossman said. "We didn't know what
was going to happen to him. We were afraid for him.
"It turns out, he beat me home."
When Kenderian was taken prisoner, Daniel Stoll was working at the
State Department in Washington, D.C.
He car pooled with a State employee who lamented one morning that
she was having a hard time knowing whether an Iraqi POW really had
a green card, as he and his supporters insisted.
"The more we talked, the more I suspected it was Shant," said Stoll,
who lived in Overland Park with wife Barbara and worked for the
University of Missouri-Kansas City until he took a job in Qatar
in July.
"I asked her if it was a fellow by the name of Shant Kenderian. It
turned out it was."
Since Daniel Stoll had seen Kenderian's documents showing he had been
a legal U.S. resident, the State Department employee had evidence
she needed.
Within a couple of weeks, the U.S. military sent Kenderian home. On
the trip to America, he wore the sweat suit Grossman had given him.
Upon his return to the States, Kenderian met his wife, Ani, at
church. They have two daughters and a son. He earned a master's and
a doctorate and is an engineer in the space industry.
Kenderian wrote a book in 2007 about his experiences, "1001 Nights in
Iraq," in which he compares his life to Job's. His early misfortune
has been compensated for many times over, he wrote.
"He dedicated his book to his guardian angel," Barbara Stoll said. "I
don't think there's just one."
By Grace Hobson, McClatchy Newspapers
The Kansas City Star (Missouri)
Distributed by McClatchy-Tribune News Service
January 11, 2009 Sunday
KANSAS CITY, Mo. _ Shant Kenderian has been the victim of bad
timing. Really bad timing.
After immigrating to the United States in the late 1970s, Kenderian
returned to visit Iraq just in time for Saddam Hussein Enhanced
Coverage LinkingSaddam Hussein -Search using: Biographies Plus News
News, Most Recent 60 Days to invade Iran and shut the borders. And
when he finally was about to get a renewed green card to go home 10
years later, Iraq invaded Kuwait and again closed the borders.
Drafted into Saddam's navy, Kenderian was taken prisoner of war not
long after the U.S. military launched Desert Storm.
But Kenderian finally made it back to the United States, in a
journey snaked with turns of fate, or coincidence, depending on your
view. Four people with ties to Kansas City played pivotal roles in
his homecoming. Three of them live within miles of each other in
Johnson County, Kan.
Hugh Grossman of Spring Hill, one of his POW guards, is still awed
by Kenderian's odyssey.
"For people who need hope, it just lets you know God does watch over
us in strange ways," Grossman said.
Last week, Kenderian gathered for a reunion of sorts with his Kansas
City friends.
"It's a very happy ending," said Kenderian, 45, now of Los Angeles. "I
used up all my bad luck in the beginning. Now I'm going on the other
side of the spectrum."
An English teacher at the American Cultural Center in Baghdad, Barbara
Stoll had to explain to the young man that no, she could not let him
take her classes for free. Besides, she said, your English is so good.
That summer of 1989, Shant Kenderian poured out his story to her. He
had immigrated to the U.S. as a 15-year-old with his mother and
brother when his parents divorced. But he needed to make peace with
the father he left behind, so he had returned.
Within days, Saddam shut the borders. Kenderian was 17. He went to
college in Baghdad to avoid military service, but after he graduated
with an engineering degree, he was drafted into Saddam's navy.
He spent the next 3{ years fighting Iran for Saddam. When the travel
ban was lifted in 1990, Kenderian was desperate to apply for asylum
at the American Embassy in Baghdad. But punishment for a soldier's
visit to a foreign embassy was death.
Stoll arranged for Kenderian to visit her class occasionally and have
an art exhibit for his paintings at the cultural center. Then she told
him to meet her and her husband in the market one Saturday. Daniel
Stoll was the consul officer at the U.S. Embassy in Baghdad _ in
charge of issuing green cards.
"I don't know how he got me _ there were 12 other teachers there and
none of them were married to the consul officer," said Barbara Stoll,
now living in Overland Park, Kan. "I asked him if he knew that,
and he didn't."
Kenderian's paperwork was almost completed when, on Aug. 2, 1990,
Saddam invaded Kuwait. Records at the U.S. Embassy were destroyed.
Kenderian again found himself in the Iraqi navy, and he came to his
life's lowest point. His father had died within a year of Kenderian's
return to Iraq. He had no family left there, he was witnessing the
horrors of Saddam's regime, and he was desperate to return home.
He volunteered for duty on a landing craft that would be near the
front lines once the war began with the Americans. He knew it would
get him killed _ or captured by the Americans.
He did get captured.
Eventually Kenderian was sent to a POW camp in Saudi Arabia in 1991. He
told the guards his story _ that he was a permanent resident of the
United States and that he wanted to get home, not to Iraq.
By the time he landed in Lt. Thomas Magee's camp, the soldiers
believed him.
Magee learned that Kenderian was a Christian of Armenian descent,
making him a minority in Iraq.
The lieutenant invited Kenderian to join the American soldiers'
Bible study. "I found it touching," said Magee, now a lieutenant
colonel who lives in Overland Park. "We were studying the Word with
a guy who was the enemy."
But Magee believed Kenderian. Why else would he expose himself to
persecution in a Muslim country by admitting that he was a Christian?
The lieutenant looked out for him and sent Kenderian's story up the
chain of command in hope someone could help him.
Kenderian knew Staff Sgt. Hugh Grossman in the POW compound for only
10 days of his three months in captivity. But he left a deep impression
on Kenderian.
Grossman brought cigarettes to the heavy smokers in captivity. He
took pictures and would tell jokes to get Kenderian to smile. He gave
Kenderian two sweat suits to replace his prisoner jumpsuit.
And Kenderian was touched by Grossman's understanding of difficult
experiences. Grossman was a veteran of two tours in Vietnam, a soldier
who had known a war unlike the quick victory of Desert Storm.
Kenderian worked in an administrative area as an interpreter. He
spent 16 to 18 hours a day translating, helping the soldiers pacify
the Iraqis, Grossman said.
When Kenderian was transferred to another camp, Grossman couldn't
face him to say goodbye. The soldiers didn't know if he'd make it
home or be turned over to the Saudis, who would send him back to Iraq,
a deep fear of Kenderian's.
"The day he left I was crying," Grossman said. "We didn't know what
was going to happen to him. We were afraid for him.
"It turns out, he beat me home."
When Kenderian was taken prisoner, Daniel Stoll was working at the
State Department in Washington, D.C.
He car pooled with a State employee who lamented one morning that
she was having a hard time knowing whether an Iraqi POW really had
a green card, as he and his supporters insisted.
"The more we talked, the more I suspected it was Shant," said Stoll,
who lived in Overland Park with wife Barbara and worked for the
University of Missouri-Kansas City until he took a job in Qatar
in July.
"I asked her if it was a fellow by the name of Shant Kenderian. It
turned out it was."
Since Daniel Stoll had seen Kenderian's documents showing he had been
a legal U.S. resident, the State Department employee had evidence
she needed.
Within a couple of weeks, the U.S. military sent Kenderian home. On
the trip to America, he wore the sweat suit Grossman had given him.
Upon his return to the States, Kenderian met his wife, Ani, at
church. They have two daughters and a son. He earned a master's and
a doctorate and is an engineer in the space industry.
Kenderian wrote a book in 2007 about his experiences, "1001 Nights in
Iraq," in which he compares his life to Job's. His early misfortune
has been compensated for many times over, he wrote.
"He dedicated his book to his guardian angel," Barbara Stoll said. "I
don't think there's just one."