 |
Picture of my father from long ago
|
My father, Harry Yiasemides, passed away on January 17, 2022 at the age of 80. We held his funeral on January 25, 2022. Below is a text of the speech I gave in his honor. I know many of my friends and family were hoping to receive a copy of my speech, and this blog is the perfect medium for distributing it on social media.
"Reverend clergy, honorable and worthy guests and
visitors, beloved friends and family, thank you for coming today to pray with
us, to share in our grief, and to honor the memory of the departed. I see many
people from the local community, from our church, and from our restaurant. Most
of you knew my father as a local business man, a supporter of the church, and
as a loving family man; however, there was much more to my father. It is my
intention to introduce to him in a more complete manner.
He was born on the island of Cyprus on December 21,
1941, at the time a British colony. His father was Yiangos, and his mother
Evridiki. He had 3 older sisters, Nitsa, Soula, and Niki, and a younger brother
Miltiades. My grandfather was a gentleman farmer, and for the society of the
time was considered well to do. They came from a line of distinguished men. My
father grew up in his father’s fields, his citrus groves, his olive trees, his
livestock, and this instilled in my father a deep love of agriculture which he
retained to his last day in this life. He would frequently mention how much he
missed his familial home.
As a very small child, maybe about 4 or five years
old, my father became very ill, with an illness which was almost 100% fatal at
the time as they lacked the modern antibiotics which easily remedy this
illness. He lay in bed for weeks, my grandparents were convinced they were
going to lose him, as a matter fact my grandfather purchased a plot of land in
preparation for his burial. As he lay at death’s doorstep one night a lady in a
red robe came to him in his dreams and said “My child I will save you, I won’t
let you die” In the morning my father jumped out of bed, completely healthy. My
grandparents were astonished, but my father told them about his dream and his
visitor. They quickly scooped him and ran to the church in order to thank God
for his miraculous recovery. As he entered the church, the young Harry pointed
to the icon of the Panayia, the All-Holy Mother of God, the Virgin Mary, and
exclaimed “that is the lady that spoke to me in my dream.” This instilled in my
father a deep love for the Panayia, which he carried with him into eternity.
Later in life, he helped build this very church which is dedicated to our most
glorious Lady the Theotokos, the mother of our Lord.
To continue, I must tell you about the island of
Cyprus. Since the dim reaches of antiquity, Cyprus has always been populated by
Greek speaking people. Beginning in the first
Millennium AD, it would be passed along from one conqueror to the next. First
it was the Muslim Arabs, next would arrive the Crusaders, later on the Ottoman
Turks, and eventually the British Empire would acquire the island in the late
1800’s. For almost a thousand years, the
local Greek people bided their time, hoping to one day gain independence.
When my father was born things were peaceful, and
Cyprus thrived as a part of the British Empire. However, the times would soon
become very turbulent. As a teenager my father joined the revolution to
liberate Cyprus from the yoke of British colonial rule. He played an active
role in the armed revolution and did whatever was ordered by the leadership. After
the revolution, he joined the newly formed military of Cyprus, as was required
of all young men of suitable age, as a member of the elite forces known locally
as Green Berets. For comparisons, they are somewhat comparable to US Army
Rangers. He attained the rank of Senior NCO, and proudly served as a drill
instructor during his tenure of full time service. The political situation in
Cyprus was complex, and violently partisan to a degree with which we are unfamiliar
here in North America. The revolution, military service, and involvement in the
convoluted political intrigues in Cyprus, toughened my father; they made him
into a man that did not give up. We could see this in his work ethic, whether
it was in his father’s fields, in his restaurant, and in his efforts to build
and support this church.
Because of his great love of everything
agricultural, from a young age my father greatly desired to make a career as a
farmer. He joined the local 4H club and eventually came to the US as a foreign
exchange student during the 1960’s. He was hosted by different farming families
in Utah, Florida, and for a time by his Uncle Harry in Virginia Beach, whom he
was named after. He established friendships which lasted a lifetime. He was
greatly impressed by the natural beauty of the US, by the good character of its
citizens, by its effective and harmonious political system and efficient
government administration, by the freedoms which are so fundamental to daily
life, and to the great opportunities available to anyone that wishes to follow
their dreams.
My grandfather needed lots of employees to work his
fields, he hired a lady named Eleni and she worked for him along with her young
daughter Maria. My grandfather was greatly impressed by the good character of
the ladies he hired, as was my father. He and Maria developed a friendship, and
the normal sort of thing happened, they fell in love and were married in 1971.
Sadly, their marital bliss was interrupted, soon after they married, the Turks
invaded Cyprus in July 1974. My father fought in the defense of home and
country, but poor Cyprus was no match for the very large, modern and well
equipped invading army of Turkey. The Northern half of the island was lost to
the Turks, and remains occupied 47 years later. My family, from both my mothers
and fathers side lost everything: their homes, their fields, and all their
possessions. They could only take what they could carry, and became destitute in
one night. My father was heartbroken; his home was lost along with the fields
and citrus groves that he loved so much. Taking my expectant mother, and filled
with the memories of his time in the US, they decided to start a new life in
the New World. Dad would always say “We came to this country with $20 dollars
in my pocket and the clothes on our backs”. They arrived in Dulles airport, in
November of 1974. I was born a few months later, and my sisters would follow a
few years thereafter.
Life in the US was very difficult the first few
years. My father spoke broken English and my mother not at all. They both did
whatever they could to make a living; my mother had been trained as a
seamstress and soon found employment at a tailor shop. My father worked in a 7-11;
he delivered doughnuts for Krispy Kreme, and eventually got into driving
tractor trailers for a short while. Tragedy struck within two years of their
arrival, dad was involved in two separate vehicular accidents through no fault
of his own. He was severely injured, and it took some time for him to recover
his health. But as I mentioned before, life in Cyprus had toughened him, he did
not give up. Receiving a small court settlement from his second accident, he
and my mother decided to go into business for themselves. In 1979 they
purchased their first restaurant, the El Greco in Alexandria Virginia. Soon
thereafter they would leave the mobile home in which they had lived and bought
their first house. Both of my parents were committed to making a new life here
in America, and with great enthusiasm became US citizens as soon as the law
allowed. Dad being a sociable person, made many friends, our home was always
filled with visitors and guests. Those were happy times, with many fond
memories. There are too many stories to tell, but one always sticks out in my
mind. One fine Easter Sunday, we had the traditional cookout in the backyard of
our home in Alexandria, and my dad thought it would be a great way to liven up
the celebration by shooting off a few rounds into the air. This was in a
suburban subdivision, where homes had quarter of an acre lots, there were lots
of neighbors and of course, one of them called the police when they heard
gunfire. The police showed up very quickly, and surrounded our yard, soon a
police Sargent showed up to investigate. He took one look at my dad and
announced to his officers “Oh it’s just Harry, don’t worry about it, I’ll take
care of it.” The good sergeant was a regular customer at the El Greco, and
still remains a friend to this very day. Dad sold the El Greco after a few
years and bought a deli near the Skyline Towers in Falls Church, Virginia. That
did not turn out as well as had been hoped, and dad sold that within a short
time. Soon thereafter in 1986, a friend told dad about a Diner in a sleepy
little town called Fredericksburg that was for sale. And the rest is a history
that we all know well.
Some people would call my father a revolutionary or
freedom fighter, but that was not his most prevalent or outstanding quality.
Others would call him a shrewd business man, but again that was not his most
outstanding quality. Others would call him other things, from quick tempered or
even other things because of his political involvement in Cyprus, but again
those were not his most prevalent qualities, and people that said those things
did not really know him at all. His most outstanding quality was his love.
He loved the Panayia, the mother of our Lord. He
loved agriculture, the citrus groves of his familial home; he loved the animals
that he tended while he was growing up. He loved his family, and would gladly
sacrifice himself for his wife and children. He may have been a strict father,
and sometimes he would forget he was no longer a drill sergeant, but his
children never doubted that he loved them very much. He loved his country, both
the country of his birth and his adopted country here in the US. He loved the
traditions and the history of the Greek people, and he made certain that his
children also learned to love those same things. May father believed in
something very strongly, and I share that belief, we must instill in our
children, and in their children, a love for their heritage so they may always
be proud that they will carry on a legacy of a people and culture that have
endured many thousands of years, since the very beginning of human
civilization. He loved people and was generous to everyone, no matter how
humble. If someone came to the door of his restaurant, without any money, and
asked for something to eat, Harry Yiasemides made certain they were provided
with something; and he made certain that his staff was well aware of this
policy. He always declared “God has given us plenty; we can certainly share
with those that have nothing.” I can say with some certainty, knowing my father
as well as I did, that he loved each and every one of us that have gathered
together here today, and many, many others that are absent and in faraway
places. That was his most outstanding quality, his great love. That was the man
I knew, the man I respected and looked up to, and the man whose very wise
council I will always remember.
Father if you will permit it with your blessing, I
wish to honor my father’s memory and his love for Cyprus and those many places
in Greece and elsewhere which are still under threat today, I would ask that
you call upon the Panayia which has always protected her people, and lead us in
singing the “Τῇ ὑπερμάχῳ”.
Thank you.
