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IN MEMORIAM: ARMEN MATIGAN, 99, GENOCIDE SURVIVOR, WWII VET AND ETERNAL OPTIMIST
Armen Matigan
http://www.reporter.am/go/article/2012-03-21-in-memoriam-armen-matigan-99-genocide-survivor-wwii-vet-and-eternal-optimist-
Published: Wednesday March 21, 2012
Matigan during his military service.
Glendale, Calif. - Armen Matigan was born to Ghevont and Lucy Matigian
in Constantinople on May 18, 1912, nearly 100 years ago.
His family was miraculously spared most of the trauma of the Armenian
genocide. When the first world war broke out in April 1914, his father
moved his wife and son to Bulgaria. They were set to move to New York
in 1918 on the very day that the Armistice was declared; they changed
their plans and moved back to Constantinople. His sister, Roupine,
Armen's only sibling, was born in 1920. Armen's father moved to New
York in 1921 to join friends in starting an oriental rug company. His
wife, two children and his mother's uncle, Sarkis, moved together to
New York in 1926.
During the Great Depression his father's business suffered, and
Armen delivered newspapers to help out. There would be stories of
Armen's parents putting newspapers in his boots to keep his feet
warm on snowy days. None of them spoke English when they arrived,
which was tough on a 14 year old, but he loved school and considered
himself very lucky to be in America. He couldn't get over the fact
that a high quality of education was free, and he was so grateful.
His grades were good - he scored 98% on the New York State Regents
exam in geometry, and thought he could do better, so he took the
test again and scored 100%. He went to Columbia University for his
undergraduate degree, which he earned in 1935, and then to dental
school at the University of Michigan. Armen spoke especially about the
intellectual life at Columbia, which was one of the high points of his
life. It wasn't easy for him in college but he loved it all the same.
In September, 1942, during the second world war, Armen voluntarily
joined the Army. He spent time in Virginia, Baltimore, Washington and
California before being stationed in Saipan, in the Pacific, in 1944,
and was discharged as a captain in 1946. He seldom talked about his
experiences in the service, but he is remembered telling a joke that
uniforms came in two sizes: too big and too small.
After the war, Armen took time away from dentistry to join his
fathers business.
In 1953 he met Christine Haroutunian - whom everyone called Achouk,
and they married in December of that same year. Armen opened a private
dental practice in Queens, and in 1961 their son Robert was born.
After he retired, they moved to Manhattan in the mid-1980s and his
love of philosophy took him back to college, Fordham University,
at the age of 75.
Robert, meanwhile, had become an engineer and moved to California. In
2002, Armen and Achouk moved to Glendale, CA to be near Robert. In
the summer of 2009, Christine passed away; their last words to each
other were 'I love you'. Armen passed away on February 21, 2012 just
two and a half years after his beloved wife.
We have fond memories of driving with him to Asbury Park to visit
his vacationing parents, and of him us to the arcade on the Asbury
boardwalk for treats and games. Once a year, we remember spending
time at the Armenian Church bazaar in Manhattan, he would take walks
with us in the neighborhood. During Christmas he enjoyed showing us
the Christmas displays in the store windows on Fifth Avenue.
There was a place near Times Square that was a genuine spaghetti
factory and ten out of ten people would have called it a dive. They
would slab noodles into a bowl and slab some sauce over it, and it
was inexpensive but very good. Armen loved things like that; he was
happier in places like that than in haughty restaurants. Later in life
he developed a fondness for the fries and coffee at McDonalds which
he went every Sunday with Robert. He was incorruptibly unpretentious.
He loved to teach things. His catchphrase when he explained something
was 'Get the idea?'
Armen would always do what was best with integrity in his professional
life as well as his personal day-to-day experiences.
He loved the stock market, and he seemed to be an eternal optimist. We
remember when in October 1987, the day the stock market dropped
about 23% in one session. Armen was sitting with us on the front
porch listening with us to the radio. Everyone else was in despair;
Armen perceived it as a buying opportunity.
He was as persistent, stubborn, tenacious or relentless - you could
choose the word depending on your perspective at the time - as anyone
could be.
But we bring up this side of his personality out of respect for how it
got him through life and with his health challenges during these last
few years. However, we never heard him feeling sorry for himself,
nor do we ever remember him expecting anyone to cut him any slack
out of pity. It's yet another example of how deeply we admire him.
Armen was an exceptionally devoted son, who came to see his mother
almost every day. And, in this, life was perfectly fair to him,
because his own son, Robert, was just as exceptionally devoted to him.
We have never seen anyone show more care for his parents than Robert,
and we extend our gratitude to Robert for what he did for his mother
and his father over the years.
When he died last week he was almost 100 years old. That's a long
life by anyone's standards, and we were all aware of how much his
illnesses had impaired the quality of his life, but it seemed to us
that it ended too soon.
He fought to the end. He was doing his physical therapy and improving
when one night he finally became unresponsive and passed away in his
sleep. We are glad he was spared more suffering, but the sense of
loss is profound. He was a great brother, friend, uncle, and father.
Armen Matigan
http://www.reporter.am/go/article/2012-03-21-in-memoriam-armen-matigan-99-genocide-survivor-wwii-vet-and-eternal-optimist-
Published: Wednesday March 21, 2012
Matigan during his military service.
Glendale, Calif. - Armen Matigan was born to Ghevont and Lucy Matigian
in Constantinople on May 18, 1912, nearly 100 years ago.
His family was miraculously spared most of the trauma of the Armenian
genocide. When the first world war broke out in April 1914, his father
moved his wife and son to Bulgaria. They were set to move to New York
in 1918 on the very day that the Armistice was declared; they changed
their plans and moved back to Constantinople. His sister, Roupine,
Armen's only sibling, was born in 1920. Armen's father moved to New
York in 1921 to join friends in starting an oriental rug company. His
wife, two children and his mother's uncle, Sarkis, moved together to
New York in 1926.
During the Great Depression his father's business suffered, and
Armen delivered newspapers to help out. There would be stories of
Armen's parents putting newspapers in his boots to keep his feet
warm on snowy days. None of them spoke English when they arrived,
which was tough on a 14 year old, but he loved school and considered
himself very lucky to be in America. He couldn't get over the fact
that a high quality of education was free, and he was so grateful.
His grades were good - he scored 98% on the New York State Regents
exam in geometry, and thought he could do better, so he took the
test again and scored 100%. He went to Columbia University for his
undergraduate degree, which he earned in 1935, and then to dental
school at the University of Michigan. Armen spoke especially about the
intellectual life at Columbia, which was one of the high points of his
life. It wasn't easy for him in college but he loved it all the same.
In September, 1942, during the second world war, Armen voluntarily
joined the Army. He spent time in Virginia, Baltimore, Washington and
California before being stationed in Saipan, in the Pacific, in 1944,
and was discharged as a captain in 1946. He seldom talked about his
experiences in the service, but he is remembered telling a joke that
uniforms came in two sizes: too big and too small.
After the war, Armen took time away from dentistry to join his
fathers business.
In 1953 he met Christine Haroutunian - whom everyone called Achouk,
and they married in December of that same year. Armen opened a private
dental practice in Queens, and in 1961 their son Robert was born.
After he retired, they moved to Manhattan in the mid-1980s and his
love of philosophy took him back to college, Fordham University,
at the age of 75.
Robert, meanwhile, had become an engineer and moved to California. In
2002, Armen and Achouk moved to Glendale, CA to be near Robert. In
the summer of 2009, Christine passed away; their last words to each
other were 'I love you'. Armen passed away on February 21, 2012 just
two and a half years after his beloved wife.
We have fond memories of driving with him to Asbury Park to visit
his vacationing parents, and of him us to the arcade on the Asbury
boardwalk for treats and games. Once a year, we remember spending
time at the Armenian Church bazaar in Manhattan, he would take walks
with us in the neighborhood. During Christmas he enjoyed showing us
the Christmas displays in the store windows on Fifth Avenue.
There was a place near Times Square that was a genuine spaghetti
factory and ten out of ten people would have called it a dive. They
would slab noodles into a bowl and slab some sauce over it, and it
was inexpensive but very good. Armen loved things like that; he was
happier in places like that than in haughty restaurants. Later in life
he developed a fondness for the fries and coffee at McDonalds which
he went every Sunday with Robert. He was incorruptibly unpretentious.
He loved to teach things. His catchphrase when he explained something
was 'Get the idea?'
Armen would always do what was best with integrity in his professional
life as well as his personal day-to-day experiences.
He loved the stock market, and he seemed to be an eternal optimist. We
remember when in October 1987, the day the stock market dropped
about 23% in one session. Armen was sitting with us on the front
porch listening with us to the radio. Everyone else was in despair;
Armen perceived it as a buying opportunity.
He was as persistent, stubborn, tenacious or relentless - you could
choose the word depending on your perspective at the time - as anyone
could be.
But we bring up this side of his personality out of respect for how it
got him through life and with his health challenges during these last
few years. However, we never heard him feeling sorry for himself,
nor do we ever remember him expecting anyone to cut him any slack
out of pity. It's yet another example of how deeply we admire him.
Armen was an exceptionally devoted son, who came to see his mother
almost every day. And, in this, life was perfectly fair to him,
because his own son, Robert, was just as exceptionally devoted to him.
We have never seen anyone show more care for his parents than Robert,
and we extend our gratitude to Robert for what he did for his mother
and his father over the years.
When he died last week he was almost 100 years old. That's a long
life by anyone's standards, and we were all aware of how much his
illnesses had impaired the quality of his life, but it seemed to us
that it ended too soon.
He fought to the end. He was doing his physical therapy and improving
when one night he finally became unresponsive and passed away in his
sleep. We are glad he was spared more suffering, but the sense of
loss is profound. He was a great brother, friend, uncle, and father.