Ayatollah Khamenei Visits
The Family of Martyr Vazgen Avanesian
Visit Date: 1/1/1985
The Photo of
Martyr Vazgen Avaneisian
Martyred in Dehloran,Ilam
The Spring of 1983
At night I always dreamt of Vazgen and during daytime I looked for him everywhere. For some 7 days and nights I was not myself. I could not feel or understand anything and did not know what was going on about me. Agha Gol gave me such a shock that I was like those who receive sound waves near explosion.
Agha Gol was my paternal cousin and Vazgen was my younger brother. One day at about noontime I was repairing a car when he came and said: come with me, I went to purchase some parts for my car and I don’t know about them as much as you.
I left the shop with my assistant and, in my mechanic’s garment, got into his car. On the way we were busy talking to each other when I noticed that he has stopped in front of the Forensic Medicine Office. Come with me, I want to see a friend for a few minutes, said he.
I said: No, my clothes are not suitable, I stay in the car.
He said: No problem, let’s go, we should meet this friend of mine.
Unwillingly I accompanied him, after we entered the place, I saw that it was so crowded that no one paid any attention to what I was wearing. He went into the morgue there and talked to some person and he took us to the section where they kept corpses in big refrigerators.
Agha Gol’s friend had a piece of paper in his hand and took us to the side of a -3storeyed refrigerator and, one by one, pulled their drawers out. I didn’t understand what was happening; what’s it all about! I only saw for a flashing moment that the face of the corpse in the middle drawer was that of my brother Vazgen! By seeing his face, I could not keep my balance, my eyes went dark and I fell down on the ground.
As I said I lost my mental balance for a week because of the way my cousin told me of my brother’s martyrdom; he was dead and I was mad.
The way my father was informed was not less painful. My father used to sit on a chair in front of our house and chat with friends and neighbours. The same day I was informed of Vazgen’s martyrdom, somebody was going to inform my parents about this. Father was sitting on his chair in the afternoon in front of the house when a man approaches him and asks: Do you know where house No. 8 is in this street.
ـ Here it is, my father replies
ـ Are you a resident of this house?
ـ Yes, I am, what’s your demand, I am at your service.
ـ Do you happen to know Vazgen?
ـ Yes I know him, he’s a soldier.
ـ What’s your relation with him?
ـ My father says: why are you interrogating me? Tell me what you want.
ـ Well, I must know your relationship with Vazgen, says the man.
ـ Suppose I’m one of his relatives.
And the man suddenly says: well, he was martyred two days ago! His corpse is now deposited at the Forensic Medicine Morgue, so please try to contact his father and mother and tell them to go to that morgue to take away their son’s corpse for proper burial.
Hearing this account, my father collapsed on his folding-chair, it was a partial heart-attack which made him to stay at home on a wheel-chair the rest of his life.
Anyway, Vazgen’s military service would finish in about 22 days’ time when he was martyred at the age of 21. My father had five sons and two daughters but Vazgen was the youngest; he was very kind to all and so he was very dear to the whole family.
After the 3rd and 7th evenings of mourning ceremonies following his burial, I could not stay at home any longer and so decided to go to the war-front region in Khorram-abad where he was martyred. There when the military officials found out who I was and why I’ve come, a Jeep was put at my disposal together with a soldier to drive it. On the way to Vazgen’s place of martyrdom, some bombs and shells exploded about us but fortunately none of them hit the car. Anyway, we managed to reach the place which was some 40 kilometers away from Dehloran. First I went to meet the commander of this garrison, that is, Vazgen’s garrison. The commander was the person whom Vazgen always praised for his character.
When I entered his room and as soon as he found out that I was Vazgen’s brother, his eyes were full of tears and he actually wept. Then he pulled himself away from his desk and then I realized that he was sitting on a wheel-chair and that he had lost both his legs from the knees down! I sat next to him and he told me a lot about Vazgen, while weeping. I was silent and only listened to him and he, among other thing said:
ـ He was incredibly selfless as if his soul had separated from his body, as if he was not living on the earth. Lack of sleep, tiredness and hunger did not matter to him. He worked as much as five people, he was restless, he was always on the move. I used to be the last person to go to sleep, but I often noticed that he was still repairing our telephones and the other means of communication. When I woke up in the morning, I saw him already working. Because of his constant labour, we never faced any defects or shortage in our communication system. As you know, good communication is vital for any military unit, it’s as necessary as a walking-stick for a weak, old man.
He talked about Vazgen for almost half an hour with tears in his eyes. Then he pulled his drawer and gave me the booklet of Vazgen’s off-days and told me: Now whenever I miss him, I page through this booklet and talk to him!
I managed to meet three other friends of Vazgen. Each of them wept when talking about him as if they had lost their own brother. Before coming here, I could not believe that he was martyred, no matter how hard I tried to accept it, but after I came and met his commander and his comrades, I became spiritually calm and could believe that he was martyred for what he believed in.
The Visit
A year later, about Christimas, when I came back home from work, I saw two persons walking in front of our house and when I was about to open the door, they came towards me and asked: Whom do you want here?!
I was really surprised: instead of me asking them what they’re doing in front of my house, they ask me what I want here! Anyway I said: this is my house, my home. They then apologized and said: please go in. and when I entered the house I saw two other strangers talking to my parents. At this moment there was a ringing, the door opened and the President, Mr. Khamenei came in. I was shocked!
My parents stepped forward to welcome him. Of course the President’s companions had already informed my parents and my brothers about his visit; it was only I who didn’t know and was so surprised.
This visit was most unusual for us because, we had never heard that he visits the families of Armenian martyrs. In later years, many Armenians were aware of this but then, because our family was the very first to be visited by the President, it was so odd. Even after the visit, when I told others that the President came to our house, nobody believed it! 
Well, the President arrived and was our guest for almost an hour. My father who, after Vazgen’s martyrdom, has been bed-ridden could not sit on a couch and sat on the floor and the President was about to sit next to him on the floor but my father insisted that he must sit on the couch. Anyway they talked with each other warmly as friends. That evening two of my cousins and a few of my nephews were also present in the meeting.
It was Christmas Eve and the President congratulated my parents on the occasion. He also enquired about my father’s health, his course of treatment and what problems he has faced in this respect and later asked us about the character and personality of Vazgen and each one of us narrated our own memories of him such as his being a brilliant student, his scientific knowledge, things he made with his own hands and finally about the way he was martyred and how great was his burial and mourning ceremonies.
President Khamenei said to my father: If you need anything, please tell me, we are at your service. My father thanked him and said: Thank God, there is nothing needed. God had granted me 5 sons and one of them was sacrificed in His path. My only worry is about those soldiers fighting in the battle-grounds, I hope they are not faced with any shortages.
Anyway the President expressed his condolence for Vazgen’s martyrdom and congratulated us for Christmas. Then He spoke of Jesus Christ, his disciples, the early martyrs of christianly and thair status with God Almighty. He really surprised us with his knowledge about Christianity and told us new things that I had never heard; it was doubly sweet for me to hear about Christianity from his tongue. He finally added that our martyrs today are just like the Christian martyrs of the olden times.
He then offered two gifts to my parents and, in a humble voice, asked them to allow his departure. My father tried to get up in respect but Mr. Khamenei stopped him; then he sat down next to him to say good-bye.
We all wanted to follow the President into the street but his companions told us that this would attract the attention of people outside.
Thus the President of the Islamic Republic visited our family in our house in the simplest, friendliest way; not even our neighbours found out anything that he was in our house.it was a sweet, memorable evening. When he had left, the members of our family went on talking about his kindness, humbleness and affection till late at night. Our telephone was constantly engaged because our cousins and others wanted to give the news to their relatives and acquaintances.
The following day we had guests from early morning till late at night! The neighbours, the close and distant relatives who had now learned that the President was our guest the night before, came to ask us about it because no one, up to this time, had heard of Mr. Khamenei visiting an Armenian house.
Our house was the first of many later visits.