A Hard Life....

Along the way when you are researching there is always some people that intrigue you. I've come across a couple of people like that and Majeed Rizk is one of them. I first came across his name on the electoral roll for Derdghaya, the reason his name stood out is that his first name is quite unique. In Derdghaya I hadn't come across anyone else with that first name.

Once again his name came up again while I was researching the Simon/Semaan family in Douglas, Arizona. He had married Nazera Simon the daughter of Elias Simon and Missaadi Rizk and he and Nazira had two boys.The name I came across on a WW1 enlistment and 1920 Census was Majeed Ayoub....Lebanese take on the fathers name as a surname sometimes, I explained it in the first or second blog post. But here he has taken on his grandfathers name Ayoub Rizk.

The Ayoub family name isn't from Derdghaya so it had me dumbfounded for a while. I remembered seeing the name Majeed on the electoral roll so I went back to it and found it was the same person, as Nazera and the children's names were listed. I spoke to my father about the name and he told me that he remembered an Ayoub Rizk mentioned in stories, so I assumed that Majeed was his son until I found his father Hanna's emigration records coming through Ellis Island.

I next came across his children names on the 1930 census at a boys home....St Francis home for Orphan Boys in Detroit, Michigan. But there was no sign of either Majeed nor Nazira in the 1930 census. I knew Majeed hadn't died as he remarried in Derdghaya and had another 5 children. I spoke with my dad again and after racking his braid said he remembered a couple of people came back to Derdghaya from America after having shot someone over cheating playing cards and that Majeed was one of them.

This still left a question mark over Nazera as there was still no sign of her. I just put it down to the fact that like so many others she had died from some epidemic that seemed to sweep the world and left it at that.

Then about a month ago I went up to Brisbane for a wedding and thought I'd make a couple of visits while I was there. I visited Nellie (Khoury) Rizk. Nellie's father and my grandfather are first cousins. But little did I know was that Majeed Ayoub was her uncle.....her mothers brother. During the conversation we were having about all things Derdghaya and family she mentions her uncle Majeed, my ears just pricked right up. I asked her if it was the same person and it turned out it was.

I then found out the whole story of Majeed Rizk....He hadn't killed anyone but his wife Nazira had been murdered by their next door neighbor. The lady next door was good friends with Nazira but was a victim of domestic violence, one day while she was being beaten by her husband Nazira intervened and was then set upon by the neighbour who ended up murdering Nazira in his rage. Majeed came home after work to find his wife dead. They say he was never the same after that. He packed up the kids and headed back to Derdghaya where after some years he remarried.

A couple of weeks before meeting Nellie I had been told of a story that happened in Derdghaya where a man was accidentally killed in a dispute over some land....he was just an innocent bystander when he was shot in the neck. The person that told me the story didn't know who had fired the gun.

While talking to Nellie she was telling me how much of a wretched life her Uncle had lived and told me how they were doing some work on the road in Derdghaya and from what understand they wanted to take some of his land and he objected to it. In the dispute Majeed finally had enough and went and grabbed an old shotgun he had. He fired a warning shot, but the gun hadn't been fired in so long the barrels exploded and the shrapnel struck this other man in the neck and killed him.

A Sad Letter on Your Birthday....

Last week I received a copy of a letter a father wrote to his daughter on her birthday. The letter was written by George Azar Khoury in 1966 to his youngest daughter from his first marriage to Lucia Simon. George is my grandfathers first cousin and emigrated to Arizona via Mexico early in the 20th century.

George has always fascinated me while I've been on this journey because he was one of the first relatives I found that had emigrated. I found several instances of him coming through border crossings from Mexico right up until the 1950's.

The letter George sent to his daughter was to wish her a happy birthday. He also tells her about her birth and the death of her mother only days after her birth. He wasn't the most eloquent of writers but you could feel his love and pain through his words.....to tell you the truth it brought a tear to my eye reading the letter. Unfortunately his wife Lucia passed away four days after the birth of her child from renal failure. George writes in the letter that her grief is what killed her as another child had severely hurt herself a couple of days before the birth.

Its amazing what you can learn from a letter. In this letter he writes how when he was young he was studying in a seminary to become a priest but found it wasn't for him as his father had passed away and he had to return home and look after the family. A few years later the village priest who was his uncle passed away and the villagers ask him to become the priest. This is an important thing as at this time our village priests had always been from our village. This has made me curious now to find out who the priest have been in our village church. Derdghaya has supplied many priests and nuns over the years.

Sixety Five Years

Last night I was surprised when I had a message from a distant cousin asking if I wanted to speak with his Grandmother.

A little background.....Philips Grandmother is married to Sitti Jamileh's first cousin Philip Salim Zarka. They have lived the last 65 years in Israel (Palestine at the time), having not been able to return during or after the war in 1948.

So after replying to Philips message we switched over to Skype. Philips Grandmother Em Atef is 86 years old and god bless her she remembers everybody from Derdghaya. She was so impressed with herself remembering people she says to me not bad for someone who only lived in Derdghaya for a year and a half. I have to say her knowledge of people was very impressive

The biggest joy I got was that she remembered my grandfather. First question she asked me was who is your grandfather....Najib Boulos auntie.....she answers with joy in her voice ah, Najib Boulos was one of my favorite people, a great man. This bought great joy to me as I never knew my grandfather but everyone has spoken in this tone about him. She then asks who my father is.....Sami auntie I reply, again she espouses what a nice person my father is.

We spoke for around an hour about Derdghaya its current and former residents, family and friends. I have to say it was a pleasure to have spoken to Em Atef and hope one day to make a trip and meet her.  I think next time I talk with her I will do an interview with her about her life as she knows a lot about the family.

Picture Tells a Thousand Words.....

I while back I found a picture of my Great Great Uncle Peter Rashid (Sitti Jamilleh's Uncle) and his family, it was taken for a passport for their return to Michigan from Lebanon in 1923. He had left for America early in the 20th century settling in the Lansing area in Michigan. Here he met his wife Nora and they started a family. To my knowledge he only ever returned on 2 occasions, around 1920 and some time in the early 1950's.

I had already met a couple of his Grandchildren (They would be my first cousins twice removed) through Facebook, so I decided to post the picture in my Old Family Photos album and tagged my cousins.

Well just through tagging one of my cousins I ended up meeting several more. It was such a joy to meet them and everyone has been very kind with their time and knowledge about what they know about their Grandfather. I was also able to supply them with Zarka family tree's which was greatly appreciated.

I have come to the conclusion that sometimes its the little things that bring families together no matter how far they are apart or whether they have ever met.....

Finding New Cousins

In August last year I wrote about finding new family members. That post seems like a lifetime ago now as I seem to get into contact with close and distant cousins nearly every week.

I grew up here in Australia and never had any cousins around because my family was the only one that emigrated. We had some family friends from my Dads village Derdghaya but realistically at the time I didn't realise they were distant cousins.....you have to go back 4 generations to find the connection.

In the last month I have found that my fathers first cousins family live in Melbourne....I was quite shocked, I don't think my Dad even knows this. My parents came to Australia 41 years ago, but I think its been only in the last five years that they have moved to Melbourne. I now have a phone number and more contact and maybe a trip to Melbourne maybe in order.

I've also been able to contact more and more people from Derdghaya whose families have emigrated to America nearly a century ago. This sort of spins me out as they have been the ones that have wanted to know more and more information and have also been willing to provide me with what ever information they have.

Who is buried in the Church

I was watching TV and they were showing how in England some people were buried in the church there. They were usually clergy or rich villagers who paid for the right to be buried there as it was an honor.

This made me remember that my father had told me recently that there were burials in our village church St. Georges. Now the reason for the interest is that one of the original priests there would be one of my ancestral grandfathers and to be buried in the church would be a great honor and give me some bragging rights.

The other thing is that the current church was built in 1911 and they just recently celebrated the centenary of the church. Apparently there is access to lower levels that contain the previous incarnations of the church. I'm thinking this is where the burials are as I don't think they would be recent.

Maybe an archaeological approach on my next trip may be in order.

Story of Elias Makhoul Khoury's Death

In late 1956 early 1957, Elias Makhoul was walking down the main street of Derdghaya when he encountered my grandfather Najib Boulos and another man possibly Eid Raad. He asked the men to go to a certain place where he owned land and dig his grave by the road; the men were startled at such a request and enquired why. Elias Makhoul replied he is getting his affairs in order as he would be dying tomorrow.

Elias Makhoul left the men to their task and kept walking along the road as he was on his way to Neffakiye to collect money from a man that had borrowed a sum from him. Elias Makhoul was quite well off as he had spent a few years in America working and once he came back to Lebanon he was also quite successful in business. Later in life he lent money to people at interest.

Once he got to Neffakiye he was unable to obtain the money so went on his way to Maaroub where another man owed him money. He was also unsuccessful here as well and returned to Derdghaya. 

On his return to Derdghaya he was approached by my grandfather and told that the spot he had chosen was not desirable as anyone passing by on the road could stop and urinate on his grave as they passed. He informed my grandfather of another spot to dig the grave and that when he was finished to come to his house.

Later Elias Makhoul gathered his family around him, his wife Nasra (Nifaji) had already passed by this time. My grandfather attended Elias Makhoul’s house where he was paid a sum of money for his work. Elias Makhoul gave directions to his children of what he wanted done and who they still had to collect money from.

After giving his children his directions he sat back on his lounge looked up and seen two doves flying towards him. He started saying “Ijit Nifaji, Ijit Nifaji” (translated Nifaji is here, Nifaji is here). As the doves reached the house his voice lowered still saying “Ijit Nifaji” the doves reached the house and he went peacefully to be with his beloved Nifaji.

To this day his grave still stands where he asked to be buried

Bridge Building

In Derdghaya they predominantly worked the land as farmers. But as the village grew they became well known for their work as blacksmiths and stonemasons. At any one time there could be found six blacksmiths shops and several stonemasons’ quarries.

Sometime in the 19^th century a bridge needed to be built over the Litani River near the village of Qaaqaait el Jisr. The Litani River was the border between the provinces of Saida and Akka. The Governors of both provinces wouldn’t give in to each other so they both sent stonemasons to build the bridge. Each set of stonemasons would work from their side of the province and meet in the middle. As Derdghaya was in the Akka province their stonemasons were requested to do the work on Akka’s part of the bridge.

Both groups of stonemasons started their work but only the men of Derdghaya could get a start on the bridge, every time the men from Saida would lay their stones in the river they would be swept away by the strong current. But so skilled were the Derdghayans they were able to finish their side of the bridge within a week and not a spot of mortar being used because of the precise cutting of the stones in male and female ends. 

The Governor of Saida demanded the Derdghayan men finish the bridge but they refused as the Governor of Saida wouldn’t pay them. They demanded to be paid the same as they had received from the Governor of Akka, one gold piece. The Governor of Saida complained to the Governor of Akka but was met with a response that they have to be paid the same. Eventually the Governor of Saida relented and paid the men and the bridge was finally built. To this day the bridge still stands over the Litani River…..

Derdghaya's History

There is a couple of different versions of how Boulos Rizk came to Derdghaya....this is the story my father told me recently and in turn was told to him many years ago by Said Hanna Elia.

Boulos was the youngest of 5 brothers and had one sister. They lived in Forzol a village on the mountain slopes above Zahle in the fertile Bekaa valley.

Sometime in the late 18^th century Boulos’ sister was to marry. Lebanon of that time was ruled by the Ottomans and the local Wali (Governor) had passed a law saying he would be able to sleep with every bride on her wedding night. Boulos and his brothers objected to this and killed the Wali when he came to claim his prize. 

The family then fled. Boulos ended up in Maghdouche with his mother the rest of the family ended up in various parts of the South. In Maghdouche, Boulos worked the fields for people. The town at that time was predominantly Druze villagers. Here he had a problem with a Druze Sheikh who always accused him of pilfering his fig tree’s even though Boulos protested his innocence the Sheikh never believed him.

Upset by the constant accusations by the Sheikh, Boulos decided to move on from Maghdouche. Boulos loaded up all his belongings on his donkey, sending his Mum ahead telling her he had one more thing to do and would catch up with her before long. Boulos then back tracked to the Sheikh’s orchard and started picking figs, figuring if he was going to accused of stealing the figs he might as well take a share for himself.

While picking the figs the Sheikh caught Boulos and attacked him with a stick. Boulos over powered beat him and threw him in a ditch partially covering him with rocks.Boulos told him that if it was lucky day he would get himself out of the ditch or someone would find him otherwise he would die in the ditch.

Sometime later Boulos caught up with his mother in the coastal village of Sarafand. They continued on to Safad al Batikh. In Safad Al Batikh, Boulos and his mother decided to settle for a while. Boulos took on some construction work. One day while digging a house foundation Boulos and his fellow workers uncovered an old clay pot, the rest of the workers threw it to Boulos and told him to give it to his mother to use. Boulos took great offense to this and threw it back at the workers smashing on the ground. When it smashed on the ground gold coins came raining out of it.....Boulos ran over to gather up the coins but his fellow workers wouldn’t allow him to touch them saying it was his bad luck.

Shortly after this incident Boulos decided he was having no luck in Safad al Batikh so moved to Tibneen. In Tibneen, Boulos built a house and got married. He married his cousin from Taibe. Boulos’ house is still standing to this day. After an unspecified time Boulos moved to Derdghaya and hence the village was started.

Boulos and his wife had many children legend has it he had one boy and several girls. To grow the village every time one of his daughters married Boulos wouldn’t allow it unless the newlyweds settled in Derdghaya. Boulos would give his daughter and her husband a plot of land to build on. Legend also had it that the husband had to be a Batal (Brave fighter) or they wouldn’t be allowed to marry.

From this humble beginning the village of Derdghaya grew….