May 19, 1915.  Hadjin , Turkey

There was no name yet for the new war. Six months had passed since Turkey joined Germany and Austria in this Great War, and the heat of the war was singeing the edges of its Ottoman Empire . But in the isolated mountain town of Hadjin , life had not much changed. The winter snows had melted, dirt roads were soft and muddy from an early spring thaw, and the days were peaceful. Old men still met in coffeehouses, their exuberant voices ringing as they tossed dice on backgammon boards calling out shesh besh.

Late in the afternoon on this day, Hagop Munushian sat across from his business partner in the local coffeehouse playing tavloo, backgammon. He scratched at his graying mustache, adjusted the red fez that covered his bald head, tossed the dice and quickly moved his white pieces. He smiled, thinking he was about to win the game.

Sipping Turkish coffee from a chipped demitasse, he glanced out the sooty window to watch the comings and goings in the Armenian town he loved. Young girls filled water jugs at the old stone fountain in the center of the square, while women in long dresses sauntered from shop to shop.

Hagop looked beyond the scene, upward to the huge American missionary compound that dominated the rockbound plateau and beyond that to the craggy Taurus Mountains jutting high into the sky. Those were his mountains, where as a young boy he had hiked with his father. Now he was the father caring for his family and teaching his own children about life.   <<READ MORE>>