Remembering My Uncle Lud

Characteristic of second-generation Armenian sons and daughters he was enriched by his heritage and appreciated it. Dedicated to the Armenian Church, he was among the godfathers of St. Vartan Cathedral in New York City in 1968 when Vasken Vehapar made his first visit to the USA for the Consecration. Lud received the St. Gregory medal from His Holiness, the highest honor for benevolence to the Armenian Church.

Holy Cross (Union City, NJ) was Lud’s home which he loved and where he served loyally his entire life. It was built in 1906 and is fondly referred to as the ‘mother’ church to its sister churches in New Jersey which were established in the coming years. Lud drove to Idlewild Airport (now JFK) in 1956 to greet and welcome the new parish priest who had come to serve at Holy Cross — Father Vatche Hovsepian (now Archbishop). The respect, love and friendship that flourished between Lud and Hayr Vatche during the ensuing years of the pastorate have transcended generations within our family.

Humor: His Hallmark

Gifted with intellect, artistic ability, eloquence and a generous heart, he was additionally gifted with a keen sense of humor and would capture and delight his audiences when he was called to be a master of ceremonies, a toastmaster or a keynote speaker at literally hundreds of banquets, dinners, and programs in the world of sports journalism and the Armenian-American community. I often quote him, “Humor will help you get through the rough times in life.”

Lud had an exceptional talent for retaining jokes and puns and could retell them with perfect timing. He often told the true story of how he forgot his car on the ferry, but the one I love to tell is the true story of the “Cookies.” Lud worked nights because the Dispatch was a morning paper. When he would come home in the wee hours of the morning, he would inevitably look in the refrigerator or the cupboard to snack on something. He was notorious for eating unorthodox combinations of foods. After one of these early morning binges, he said to Joey, “What kind of cookies did you buy? They’re very hard. Don’t buy them again.”

Joey was puzzled, “What cookies? I didn’t buy cookies.”

Curiosity sent Joey on a search to the pantry, “Oh, Lud! You ate these!? They’re dog biscuits!”

“Ha,” he quipped, “No wonder I was barking all night.”

Reciprocal Passion between Family and Friends

Lud and Joey were abundantly enriched with a wide circle of friends and acquaintances. People craved to be around Lud because it was guaranteed that he would transform the grumpiest face into a smile, if not a chuckle. In 1971, more than 800 people attended a banquet held at Schuetzen Park in North Bergen to honor him for his 50 years of service as sports editor of the Dispatch. He was inducted into the New Jersey Boxing Hall of Fame in 1981 and was one of the founders of the New Jersey Boxing Writers Association. At a Kiwanis Club ‘Man of the Year” award dinner in 1986, he concluded in his acceptance remarks, “I’ve had a wonderful life. I’ve enjoyed every minute of it.”

Lud was also an avid book collector, especially acquiring books in the fields of sports, arts and Armenian culture. Lud took me to the Strand Bookstore in New York City the summer before I started college and invited me to select all the books I wanted. He bought them for me, saying, “Ruthie, if you get just one idea — one idea — from a book, it is worth all the money you spent on it.” He bought me a set of Encyclopedia Britannica; and he gave me his copy of Elements of Style, a classic bible for writers.

Lud was forever taking the family and friends out to dinner. Conversations and exchanges at the table continued as Lud would listen and sketch simultaneously making excellent caricatures. It was very common for him to give a person a paper napkin decorated with one’s likeness. His pencil and quick eye were always capturing and creating.

When his health began to fail and he could not go out, my mother, my children and I would visit him. After one of these visits, Mother remarked, “Oh how Lud just loves sitting at the head of his table in his home surrounded by his family and friends.”

That image of Lud that Mother so fully appreciated vividly describes the countless Thanksgivings at Uncle Lud and Aunt Joey’s home. The family gathered waiting for Lud who would be the last one to make his entrance because he covered the Emerson-Union Hill High School football game. A wide circle of cousins, aunts, uncles, and friends, (who otherwise  would find themselves alone on the holiday), joined Lud and Joey’s festive table. We feasted on the turkey of course, and a host of sides and trimmings including the Armenian treasures, Hajmom’s dzedzodz, boreg, and the kufta. Grandma Keshian, Joey’s mother who was an endeared member of their household, made the kufta. She made the best kufta. It is still Cousin Haddon’s favorite.

Lud Shahbazian garnered fame and admiration, never losing sight of his roots. He was a guiding light for me of intellectual sensitivity and tenderness towards people. Lud had a special place in his heart for Father Vahram Nazaretian. He had celebrated the sacrament of marriage for Lud and Josephine in 1925. Every year on their wedding anniversary Lud mailed Father Vahram a letter and enclosed a gift. He faithfully carried out this tender act of grace until Father Nazaretian’s lonely demise in Florida in 1980. I felt his sorrow as I watched him fold the letter that had carried the news.

Every Christmas following his ‘kid’ brother’s death, Lud (whose handwriting was becoming weaker and more illegible) wrote a Christmas check, remembering Alice. Karnig was gone, but Alice was tenderly remembered by her husband’s brother. Nothing can depict more clearly the deep affection Lud and Karnig shared than this gentle act of caring. Lud was a remarkable human being.

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My Uncle Lud rested in God in 1990. I feel his spirit encouraging me every day to find joy in learning, loving and living.