Three Apples: Beyrouth is Burning
a column by Paul Chaderjian for the Asbarez newspaper Once there was and there was not… I am eight. The year is 1976. I am Armenian. I’m mixed up. And I am writing this with candlelight. Because, there is a war in my country – Liban. I am at home. All the windows and drapes are closed in our home. If a bomb explodes the glass blows and hurts people. So we keep all the windows covered. No glass. No blood. I tell my mother I am bored. She says to put away my toys and do art. My father tells me to read. I tell him I read all my books. He says to write a book. And I’m writing my book. My book is about war. It’s about how crazy people are to kill other people. Make them hurt. Make them cry. Destroy their homes and buildings and highways and the airport. And the new 747 MEA airplanes. The war started when I woke up one morning. I looked at my watch. It was only 7:30. I got up and got out of bed. I went to the living room. Everybody was crowded around the radio. They wer...